𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐋𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫
ᴀᴜᴛʜᴏʀ
𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘯𝘦𝘹𝘵 𝘥𝘢𝘺
𝗱𝗲𝗿𝗲𝗸'𝘀 𝗮𝗽𝗮𝗿𝘁𝗺𝗲𝗻𝘁

     𝐍𝐨𝐚𝐡 stares at her reflection in the bathroom mirror. She thought she was hallucinating when she saw Emily for the first time again—noticing the change in her hair, how she does her makeup, and even her sense of style that's now more Parisian—but she's changed herself. Her messy hair is still a deep red, her eyes are darker than they used to be, and she hasn't seen herself in a put-together outfit since the funeral.

Noah thought she had reinvented herself and had started to accept her mother's death, but her appearance says otherwise. It hits her now that she never even took the first step. Everything feels like a waste. All the endless nights of crying herself to sleep, arguing with Derek over not getting out of bed, draining therapy sessions that felt like they were going nowhere, and using every ounce of strength in her body to grieve the one person she loved more than anything.

"Noah," Derek says softly from the other side of the door. "I gotta go in. You gonna be okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine," she replies.

"Just text me if you need anything."

"Okay," she says, resting her hands on the counter as she listens to his footsteps disappear and the door closing.

Noah huffs to herself and ties her hair up into a messy ponytail. She turns the sink faucet on and grabs her toothbrush. She finds it's now easier to get out of bed and freshen up first thing in the morning. Although she's not thrilled with how everything was handled, knowing her mother is alive and her father isn't has changed everything. Her heart feels at ease, but her mind can't accept it that fast.

She finds breakfast and eats while lounging on the couch with Sergio curled up on the cushion beside hers. She watches the city outside the window, missing the view of the Capitol building at her and Emily's old apartment.

Suddenly, a knock sounds on the door and she sits up. Her heart pounds, knowing that the agents have been called off ever since her father's death. She sets her plate on the coffee table and tiptoes to the front door. She peeks through the peephole and sees her mother, who's patiently waiting, rocking back and forth on her heels and holding a box.

Noah steps back, takes a deep breath, and opens the door for her mother.

"Hi," Emily says through a breath.

Noah feels the cold wind from outside blowing through the warmth of Derek's apartment. She steps to the side to let her mother out of the cold.

"What're you doing here?" she asks as she closes the door behind Emily. "Aaron called the team in."

Emily's ears perk up at the use of her boss' first name from her daughter. "Yeah, I know, but I have some paperwork to finish before I'm fully reinstated. That and Strauss gave me some time to look for a new place and get settled."

Noah nods in response and shifts nervously in her spot. Sergio breaks through the silence, the bell on his collar chiming as he jumps down and scurries up to Emily. He meows and purrs loudly as he rubs against her legs.

"Hi, Serg," Emily beams as she bends down to pick him up and cradle him in her arms. "Oh, I missed you so much too. Were you a good boy?!"

"He was," Noah says quietly. "He missed you a lot."

Emily smiles, having heard that before. Noah used to tell Emily that Sergio missed her and wanted her home when really it was she who wished for her mother to come home sooner. That was before Noah was comfortable enough to be so vulnerable.

The mother stands and notices her daughter's anxious state. "I'm not here to fight."

"I'd hope not."

Emily chuckles shortly and nods towards the couch. Noah walks over to sit down again, watching her mother put the box on the coffee table. It's the size of a shoebox and has French words written along the side.

"I just want to start by saying that I wish I knew what the right thing to say or do is. I wish I could make this better or that I could say something that would bring you comfort, but I'm not sure what that would be."

"I don't think anything you could say would make it better," Noah mutters. "But that's why I just want you to listen to me."

Emily nods, not wanting to say another word unless Noah wants her to.

The teen takes a deep breath as she closes her eyes for a moment. "But not right now."

"Why not?"

"I have to go to Jess'. Josephine is taking me to the school."

"The school?"

"I have to talk to Principal Gallway about missing more school. I just started back about a month ago, so she's probably wondering where I am again. She said we could have a meeting today."

"Let me drive you," Emily offers.

"I already told Josephine—"

"I'll drive you to their house," Emily says, taking any chance to have more time with her daughter. "We can talk a little on the way. Maybe stop by the coffee shop again."

Noah can't tell if Emily trying so hard to regain her trust is breaking or mending her heart. She appreciates the offer and accepts it, but it all leads back to the root of the problem, which is that none of this should of happened in the first place. But Noah has to accept it whether she likes it or not.

"When do you have to leave?" the mother asks.

"Probably in the next few minutes."

"Okay," Emily nods. "Get your shoes, sweetheart."

Noah stands up to get her shoes. She slides on her sneakers and walks back out to the living room. She slides her phone into her jean's back pocket and opens the coat closet to find a hoodie. Emily watches her daughter's every move, feeling a pang of jealousy in the pit of her stomach at Noah's coat in Derek's closet.

They head out of the apartment and to the car. Noah keeps quiet, not sure what to say. She doesn't want to say too much and open up a huge discussion, but she also doesn't want to diminish what's on her mind by having small talk.

Emily drives them to the Finch household, letting the city quietly pass them by. She always loved how peaceful it was in the morning. Her drive to work was an hour before everyone else's, so the roads were nearly empty as the moon was still setting.

"Is it weird?" Noah asks softly, making Emily peer over at her. "Being back somewhere that you left for a long time?"

"A little," Emily shrugs. "But I did it a lot when I was younger. We'd leave a country, go to a new one, go back, go to a different new one."

Noah nods, realizing that she's only ever been to two places before. The first place she knew, she left and never went back.

Emily pulls up to the Finch's mailbox and puts the car in park. She turns to Noah, who's looking out the window towards the house.

"Thanks for driving me," Noah says as she turns to see Josephine opening their front door. "You should thank her," she adds softly. "I stayed here a lot and she did a lot for me that she didn't have to."

Noah gets out of the car and waves at the woman in the driveway with a smile. Jess appears from the front door and quickly closes it behind her before running up to Noah. The blonde jumps into Noah's arms and hugs her tightly.

Josephine smiles at the sweet sight, but it fades as she sees Emily step out of the car.

Noah watches the two mothers gaze at one another. Emily slowly descends the driveway, Josephine blinking with each step Emily takes to make sure that she's real.

"It's a lot to take in, trust me," Noah says to Josephine. "But it's real."

Jess unravels her arms from Noah's body and turns to Emily. She smiles softly before hugging Emily, which takes the woman by surprise. Emily's lips curl into a smile, her mind realizing what's happening before her body can react. She wraps her arms around Jess, knowing that this is her way of thanking Emily for coming back.

Emily pulls away from the embrace and looks up at Josephine. "It's a long story."

"But we can't tell most of it," Noah adds.

"I-I don't know what to say," Josephine stumbles over her words, not being able to look away from Emily.

"You don't have to say anything, I know," Emily replies with a nod. "And thank you for everything. Noah's very lucky to have you. And you too," she says as she turns to Jess.

"We're lucky to have each other," Jess chimes as her arm finds its way around Noah's waist.

"Yes, we are," Josephine says, grinning at Emily. "You should come with us. We can all have lunch after, and maybe you can tell me the parts that you can say."

Emily peers at Noah, who is looking back at her with soft eyes and hints of a smile. Emily nods after taking in the approving look from her daughter.

"Alright, then," Josephine says as she unlocks the car.

The four of them pile in, Jess sitting in the middle seat of the back row. She leans her head on Noah's shoulder and intertwines their fingers. She listens to her mother and Josephine talk, catching up on normal things and leaving the heavier conversation for later. She smiles at the sight of Jess' blonde hair cascading down her arm. And suddenly, it's the first moment that's felt real to Noah since Emily came back.

𝘢 𝘧𝘦𝘸 𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘳𝘴 𝘭𝘢𝘵𝘦𝘳

"Do you need anything?" Emily asks as she parks the car outside of Derek's apartment building.

"No," Noah shakes her head. "Thank you for talking to Principal Gallway. Safe to say that she was too lost for words to even think about holding me back."

"Yeah," Emily chuckles as she watches Noah unbuckle her seatbelt.

"I'll let you know when we can talk," the teen says. "I just need some time."

"I know that it's a lot—"

"Sometimes, I'm not sure that you do," Noah says as she looks into Emily's eyes. "And I don't say that to be mean, but...from where I'm sitting, your return did a lot more damage for me than it did for you."

"Help me understand," Emily says as she peers back into the blue eyes.

Noah looks down, unable to meet her mother's eyes for more than a few seconds. She looks back up and reaches into the cubby at the bottom of her door. She shows an envelope and sits it on the middle console between her and Emily.

"If you wanna know what it was like, this will give you a good idea," Noah says before opening the car door to step out.

Noah walks into the apartment, hearing Sergio meow as he notices her coming in. The apartment is quiet, which means Derek is still at the office. She sees the box Emily left on the coffee table and goes to sit down, Sergio jumping up to sit beside her on the couch.

Noah lifts the top of the box off and peers inside. There's an envelope sitting right at the top, her name written in a familiar cursive. She picks up the envelope and opens it to reveal a folded piece of paper. In the same cursive, there's a short note.

⸻

Noah,

I know it seems like a box of gifts brought back from a vacation, but the only way I was able to find solace in Paris was by finding things I knew you'd love.

Love,
Emily

P.S. As you can tell, I needed a lot of comfort, so I went a little overboard. Oh, and I love you.

⸻

Noah sets the note down on the coffee table and sees a bunch of random keepsakes in the box. She pulls them out one by one, admiring each one. There's a brand new fancy-looking book called "Lourve Guide to the Masterpieces." Tucked in the corner is a white ceramic cup with a drawing of the Eiffel Tower on it. Right underneath it is a special edition copy of "La Petite Fadette" by George Sand, which Noah knows is a pen name for a famous female author, Amantine Lucile Aurore Dupin de Francueil. There are numerous postcards tied together with a red ribbon, each with a handwritten note made out to Noah.

She smiles softly, but a part of her tries to hold her back from accepting it. It feels as though the part of her that's still grieving is clawing at her back, trying everything to keep her from moving on, even though the very thing she was begging for came true.

In her hotel room, Emily throws her coat on the bed and sits beside it. She traces the edges of the envelope Noah gave her. She slowly turns it over and slides her finger under the fold to break the seal. She pulls out a folded piece of paper and reveals what's written on it. Her heart clenches as she eyes Noah's messy handwriting and dried-up dots from what she can only assume are tears.

With a trembling breath and a heart brimming with emotion, she unfolds the letter, her eyes lingering on each word Noah had written.

⸻

Emily,

I think you'd be happy to know I've given into this stupid exercise that Dr. Stephenson's making me do. I only agreed to do it because I know if you were here, you would tell me it's good for me. But then again, if you were here, I wouldn't be doing this.

It's strange, trying to think of what you would say or do if you could see me grieving you. I know what you would tell me, the habits you would make me stop. You would tell me to quit the deprecating jokes and one-liners, stop biting my nails, and try to get out of bed more. Most of the time, the jokes aren't even jokes. Sometimes I really can't move. At first, I felt completely stuck and, some days, I still do.

You've been gone for five months. I can't seem to figure out where that time has gone or how I've survived it. It feels like I saw you yesterday, but it also feels like I haven't seen you in years. It's a weird thing to grieve. My mind replays every moment, every step you took, every blink of your eyes. And then I realize—I can't remember it all. I never thought I would lose it all, lose you. How did I become so comfortable that I forgot to cherish what our life was? It's unbearable and impossible for me to understand.

Of course, not a minute goes by that I don't wish you were here. I think about how much I love you, how much I dream of you, and how much I miss every little thing we used to do together. It's taking me time to enjoy those things again. I can't eat fried rice, read books, or even watch movies we used to binge without breaking down. I end up seeing your face or hearing your voice telling me to stop eating out of your takeout boxes. You've ruined everything I love, but somehow, in the most beautiful way.

It's hard for me to accept that I no longer live on this Earth with the person who brought me into it. You did so much for me, more than I ever realized. I've never had someone love me the way you do and I never had any doubt that you would do anything to protect me. You changed my life and I will never forget that. Even though you're the person who brought me the most hurt, you're also the person I love the most. But now, I live without you. I still have a life. Derek says you'd find comfort in that but I'm not so sure. It's honestly shocking to me that I can live without you. That doesn't mean it's easy, but I get through it. It reminds me of this dream I keep having where I'm standing at the top of a hill and you're down at the bottom. You're running to catch up to me, but you just seem to get further and further away. So far until I can't see you anymore, but then I turn to the sun and I feel a summer breeze and I know you're there, just like you always said you'd be.

I've wanted to run away from everything my whole life, so when I came to Virginia with you, I thought it was the best thing that ever happened to me. I finally got to run far, far away from everything. And now I've lost you and I want to do it again—chase that feeling of safety and a fresh start. Only this time, I know it won't fix anything. Maybe running away with you was the last time I felt like I truly could. I'll never escape you or this hole in my chest.

You weren't perfect, but you gave me everything you had, and I took it. I just never knew that it would cost me the rest of my life without you.

I miss you. I hope you're ok, wherever you are. I love you, Mom.

Love,
Noah