"Brinley, so good to see you!" Joey stops when he sees me face. "Whoa, what's the matter with you?"

"Everything," I walk over to the chairs by the bed and fall into one, crossing my arms.

"Wow," Joey raises his eyebrows. He clears his throat. "Uh... You wanna talk about it?"

"You wanna listen?" I ask with a quirk of an eyebrow.

"Mm... Probably not, but go for it," Joey says, looking pretty worried.

"Just because I was kidnapped doesn't mean I'm going to run into danger everywhere I go. Do you think I'm going to walk into a restaurant or a hospital or out of my own house and some shady looking man is going to steal me away? Every time? Jonathan's dead! What do I have to fear anymore? Nothing! And I really don't want to spend the rest of my life hidden away in my house because I'm scared to take that chance," I say loudly, all my anger coming out at once.

"Your mom's treating you like a child?" Joey asks feebly, looking a little nervous seeing me like this.

"Oh, not just her," I laugh dryly.

"Your sister?" He asks.

"Not only her," I reply, shaking my head.

Joey seems to understand who I'm meaning. He lets out a sigh, looking at my sadly. "Owen's very protective of you, Brinley. He thinks everything is his fault, and he doesn't want it to happen again."

"But he practically told me that I'm helpless and he's tired of saving me time and time again," I reply, agitated.

Joey looks at me for a long time. "What do you mean 'practically'?"

I frown. "He told me I can never save myself."

"And you drew every other conclusion," he says pointedly.

I gape at him. "Are you saying you wouldn't? He sure sounded pretty annoyed!"

"Look, I don't like fighting with you," Joey says. "But-"

"Then don't fight with me," I cross my arms again. "Agree with me."

"But," he interrupts me, "I think you should give the guy a break. He came in here earlier. He's having a rough day. He's probably very irritable."

"Oh, he is," I assure him.

"And obviously so are you," Joey points out. "You both ran into each other at the wrong time."

I let out a huff, looking down instead of at him. Maybe because I know what he's saying has some truth in it. I just don't want to admit that.

"Look, it's not very often he blows up at someone. He's already stressed out enough as it is. Having you ranting to him probably added a lot to it," Joey says cautiously.

"Oh, so you're saying that I blow up at people a lot? That I'm just an explosion waiting to happen," I ask, temper rising quickly.

"I'm saying," Joey says calmly, "that you are far more emotional than most people know how to handle. It's not a bad thing, and Owen can handle it almost always. But like I said, today isn't the day to cross him."

"Why do you keep saying that? What's today?" I demand, feeling frustrated with literally everything and everybody.

"Owen will explain," Joey says.

"No, he won't!" I say, frowning. "He won't talk to me."

"Maybe he already did try," Joey says over me. "You've got to cool down. Now. If you can't do it here, go for a walk."

"I already went for a-"

"Then go for another one," he interjects me. "I'm serious."

I scowl at him, but I do what he says. I stand up from the chair and walk out the door. The hallway is almost all the way empty except for a few stray nurses. I walk through the mix of them and down the stairs, making a point to stomp on each for my own benefit.

Joey is probably right. Owen has always been so patient with me. Maybe I should've given him a chance to explain himself. The sky above me is almost completely dark now, eight o'clock rolling around. I decide not to walk too far, just around the block.

I sigh, crossing my arms to stay warmer. The cold is nipping at my face, and my cheeks are numb. My hair is blowing in every which direction around me.

And maybe what I said to my mom was a bit much too... What she said was very out of line as well, but I really owe her an apology. Still, going back to the house and facing her doesn't sound too pleasant of an idea right now.

The final turn around the block is through an alley. I cringe, craning my neck to try and see if anyone is left in there. It doesn't seem like it. I bite my lip anxiously. Maybe I shouldn't. Maybe I should listen to the advice and just stay safe and walk the long way.

But it looks empty to me. I take a deep breath. I can do it, I can go through. No problem. No need to be worried.

I speed walk into it. I only focus on the exit, not even wasting a moment looking to my left or right. I breathe quickly, trying to stay calm. My shoe catches something, and I tumble to the ground. My head hits the ground pretty good and I know there'll be a bruise there.

Something crawls across my hand. I shriek, standing up too quickly. I stumble into the nearest wall and I hear a loud cough from behind me. I stand up straight, finding my balance. Something bangs right behind me. I scream, darting out the rest of the alley.

I run straight into someone. We both topple to the ground. My hands catch me just in time before my head touches the sidewalk. I let out a groan, pressing myself of the ground.

"Brinley?" The person asks. I look over and find Owen staring at me in surprise. He's attempting to stand up as well. I ran into him, of all people.

"Um," I look away, embarrassed. "Sorry."

Owen holds out a hand. I look at it for a minute, reluctant to take it.

"You put your hand in it and I help you off the disgusting ground," Owen says in amusement.

I frown. How is he hiding his anger against me so well? Why isn't he yelling at me again? Surely I would deserve it.

Owen takes my hand and helps me up. "Why were you in an alley?"

I look down. "Joey sent me for a walk to cool down."

"Look," Owen runs a hand through his hair. "I'm sorry. I lost my temper and it got too far out of hand. I don't hate saving you, I love to. I love knowing you're safe. I shouldn't baby you, though. I'll try not to do that. I just really care about you and don't want to see you get hurt."

I smile at him. "I know. Thank you for that. I shouldn't have said what I said either. I was far more in the wrong than you were. I'm sorry."

"Don't say that yet," Owen says, looking anxious.

"That I'm sorry?" I ask him, confused.

"No," he sighs. "That you're more in the wrong." He looks at me for a long time and I don't know what to say. Whatever it is he has to tell me, he had better tell me soon. "C'mon, let's go inside."

<•>•<•>

"Glad to see you've made up," Joey says when we walk inside. "She's taking all this surprisingly well... I thought she'd freak out when she found out... You did tell her, right?"

I turn my focus to Owen, who looks nervous again.

"Not yet," Owen replies.

"Oh," Joey smiles sheepishly. "Right then."

"Why don't we go ahead and have a seat," Owen says, shoving his hands in his pockets.

We do so, with him looking nervous and me feeling nervous about what he's about to tell me. By the sounds of it, it isn't going to be good. I brace myself, hands clasped together in my lap.

"I got a call from my dad today," he begins. "He says I have to fly out to Oregon tomorrow morning for a family get-together."

"What's so bad about that?" I ask.

As soon as the words leave my mouth, the door flies open. My mom and Clarin burst inside. They see me and let out a relieved sigh.

"We thought you might be here," Clarin says.

"I'm sorry," my mom says, rushing to my side. "I'm so sorry. I shouldn't have said that, I shouldn't have started-"

"Mom," I interrupt her. "I'm sorry too. I can't believe I told you that. It was very out of place."

"Told her what?" Joey asks. Then he closes his mouth at once. "Sorry. Don't answer. Not my business."

"Um..." I look down at my feet. "Something pretty horrible. I won't repeat it because it isn't true."

My mom envelopes me in a hug, and keeps telling me how sorry she is about what she said. She shouldn't have refused to let me go. She shouldn't have said that about Owen. I tell her it's okay.

She lets me go, smiling softy at me. "I won't baby you anymore. I'll treat you just like normal, okay?"

I smile now as well. "Thank you mom."

And I remember there are other people in the room and there was a conversation going on before she and Clarin showed up.

"About what you were saying, Owen," I look at him. "Could I... Could I come with you and meet your family?"

My mom takes a sharp inward breath. "What?"

Owen looks at her with a sigh. "My dad called and wants me in Oregon in the morning."

She stares at him in shock.

"What's such a big deal about that?" I ask.

"It just is," my mom says quickly.

"Can I go?" I ask Owen now. "Would it be a big deal?"

"It's up to your mom, not me. I would love to have you come and meet all of my family," Owen says, with a pointed look at my mom.

I turn to her now. She looks like she's about to have a stroke. "Please let me go."

"No," my mom says quickly. "I can't."

"You said you wouldn't baby me anymore!" I exclaim. "I'll be fine!"

"I'm not babying you," my mom says with a sigh.

"Maybe it would be a good idea," Owen says to my mom. "For her to know."

"To know what?" I exclaim, annoyed for about the fiftieth time today. "What aren't you guys telling me?"

"Come on, Brinley. We're going home," my mom says in a hurry. "You aren't going and that's the last I'll say on the subject."

"Mom!" I exclaim.

"And you," she says to Owen. "If you speak a word about this, or if you try to take her with you in the morning, I'll make sure you never see my daughter again."

She drags me out of the room, making a huge scene. I'm forced down the stairs and into the car. All the while, I think, what could be so bad that my mom is threatening one of the only people she seems to trust?