A/N This chapter contains trigging content in the form of mild grief. Please remember to vote and/ or comment if you enjoy it.

It is the day after the interview and I am returning home for a week of rest. By home I mean my parents' place, not my apartment in Monaco. There is something or rather someone I need to confront. I am not looking forward to it but it has to be done. I find myself gripping the steering wheel of the hire car a little too tight. The reason why I am nervous about this is my mum and I have been against each other ever since the accident claimed my brother's life. I understand why she wanted me to quit racing but I couldn't just give up. I promised Jules that I would keep going. All of these thoughts swirl through my mind as I spot the house that belongs to my parents. I soon pull up on the driveway. I am about to knock on the door but for some reason, my fist stops short. Dammit, why has it got to be so hard? I take a deep breath as I try again. This time I am successful.

"Philippe,  Qu'est-ce (who is it)?" I can hear my mum yelling.

"C'est Jess. Elle est à la maison (It's Jess. She's home)," Comes the response from my dad. He lets me in. At least someone was supportive of my decision to stay in Motorsports. I join my mum in the kitchen.

"Maman, veux-tu de l'aide (Mum, would you like some help)?" I offer. She looks at me in horror. It's as if she has seen a ghost. She gestures for me to go away. Well, that means that she still hates me. I make a beeline for my bedroom. To my surprise, it is similar to how I left it. Even the couple of Formula 1 posters I had are still there. I am careful as I take them down. They are a reminder of what could have been if I had gone into Formula 1. Maybe I could ask Mercedes EQ if they would be able to sell them to make money For Susie Wolff's women in motorsports initiative. After placing them in my backpack I slump onto my bed. My thoughts soon drift to the day of my brother's funeral where the issues with my mum started.

It has been a week since my brother's death. Today is the day that I have been dreading. It is the last day that I have to say goodbye to my brother. I am currently getting ready to go. I am glad that the entire Formula 1 community has rallied behind me and my family.

"Jess, es-tu prêt à partir (Jess, are you ready to go)?" My mum asks.

"Je n'ai pas le choix (I have no choice)," I reply. I can feel the grief that laces my voice. I am hoping that my mum will let me remain in motorsports. I don't know why I am thinking about it now when I need to concentrate on my speech. After what feels like an eternity in the car we have made it to the venue. I am not surprised that the entire Formula 1 grid is here. This is it. I timidly step out of the car. My eyes soon settle on my brother's teammate. He looks just as bad as I did the day after. I suppose that it is because they were good friends. He excuses himself as he spots me.

"Jess, I'm sorry that it was your brother," He remarks as he joins me.

"Max there was nothing that you could have done. They shouldn't have raced that day," I responded. I soon found Charles. To my horror, he looks worse than me. I put it down to the fact that he and my brother were close. I make my way through the small crowd of drivers. I just need a hug right now and Nyck isn't here. I should have told him to come. Oh well. I can feel my emotions run high as I reach Charles. Instead of saying anything, he pulls me into a much-needed hug. The gesture manages to kick start the tears. I still hate the fact that everyone is pitying me when I don't need it.

"Thank you, Charles," I whisper.

"Don't worry about it," He replies. I may hate the pity but at the same time, I feel like it will make me a better person. Now that everyone is here the service gets underway. The thing is I will be called up to say something but there are no words that can describe what my brother meant to me. Not now at least. As the service goes on I am pleased to find that my parents saved me from the pain. It has been an hour since the service and I am concerned about the way my mum is behaving.

"Jess nous devons avoir une conversation (Jess we need to have a conversation)," My mum calls out. I join her in the kitchen where I assume she is making dinner.

"À propos de quoi (About what)?" I ask as I sit down on one of the kitchen table chairs. The thing is I know exactly what she is going to talk about.

"Je ne peux pas te laisser continuer à courir (I can't let you continue racing)," She comes out and says it. The thing is I can't. Part of the speech that I would have used was the fact that I would stay strong and continue racing.

"Regarde Maman tu ne comprends pas j'ai promis à Jules que je continuerais à courir (Look mum you don't understand I promised Jules that I would continue racing)," I reply. I know that she won't be able to live with herself if another Bianchi was lost to motorsports. Dammit, why does it have to be so hard?

"Jess, je ne peux pas te perdre aussi. J'ai besoin que tu arrêtes (Jess I can't lose you too. I need you to stop)," She has now decided to plea with me. I take a deep breath.

"Je suis désolé Maman mais je dois (I'm sorry mum but I have to)," I say as I get up. It looks like I will have to move out to pursue my career. I head back to my room where I start packing. I have always dreaded the day that I have to move out but I was hoping that it would be under more desirable conditions. I am suddenly hit by another wave of grief. I just wish that this nightmare will end. The thing is I know it never will unless I can change my last name. I can feel the tears starting again. I am soon brought back to reality by my father.

"Jess. Ta mère a raison, mais tu dois le faire. C'est ce que Jules aurait voulu (Jess. Your mum is right but you need to do this. It is what Jules would have wanted)," My dad says as he places one of my Prema t-shirts in my bag. I am glad that he respected my decision to stay in motorsports. With the help of my dad, I quickly finish packing. I really don't want to go but if I don't I won't be able to race. I follow my dad to the kitchen.

"Christine, nous devons parler (Christine, we need to talk)," My dad gets to work on defending my decision. I find myself sending a text to Nyck.

J: I need a place to stay

N: Why?

J: my mum won't let me race unless I move out

N: I'll see what I can do

J: Thank you

The bickering between my mum and dad only gets worse. Thankfully mum let my other siblings be with their friends. After five minutes of yelling my mum finally gives up.

"Vous ne comprenez pas que je ne peux pas vivre avec l'inquiétude de savoir que ma plus jeune fille risque sa vie (You don't understand I can't live with the worry of knowing that my youngest daughter is risking her life)," She finally comes out and says it. I hate the fact that I have to choose my family or my career. I can't just abandon my family but I have to race for Jules. I can feel my anger boiling away. There are so many questions I have. Why did it have to be Jules? That is the biggest question I have. It has been a week and I am finally moving out. I am relieved that Nyck reached out to Charles' father and he allowed me to stay with his family. I am saddened by the circumstances of my departure but I know deep down I need to make it to at least Formula 2. Thankfully Charles and his father have arrived to pick me up.

"Souviens-toi de Jess, tu es le bienvenu à la maison quand tu es prêt (Remember Jess, you are welcome home when you are ready)," My dad says. He pulls me into a hug.

"Peux-tu dire à maman que je suis désolé(Can you let mum know that I am sorry)?" I ask. I will have to make amends later.

"Oui. Bonne chance champion (Yes. Good luck champ)," He replies as he releases me from the hug. I soon join the pair in the car. Charles' father is quick to start the hour's journey to Monaco. I find myself staring out of the window. I will miss France but I have to go. Maybe one day I will return. My body feels numb with the shock of leaving.

"Jess, je dois m'excuser (I need to apologise)," My mum pulls me out of my thoughts.

"Non Maman je n'aurais jamais dû partir (No mum I should never have left)," I retorted. That day would be considered the third-worst day of my life.

"Mais tu avais raison. Tu avais besoin de faire la course. En plus tu as bien fait la semaine dernière (But you were right. You needed to race. Plus you did well last week)," She says with a wink.

"Attends, tu as regardé la course (Wait, you watched the race)?" I am stunned. To prove that she did she recounts how I fought off Jean-Eric.

"Maman, que diriez-vous de ça, j'accepterai vos excuses si vous et papa venez à Rome en tant qu'invités (Mum how about this I will accept your apology if you and dad come to Rome as my guests)," I counter. It's a start but I don't think I will truly forgive her for making me choose between my career or my family. At least we can make amends during the race in Rome. I get to work on organising something with the team principal.