𝐀 𝐍𝐞𝐰 𝐇𝐨𝐦𝐞
ᴀᴜᴛʜᴏʀ
𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘯𝘦𝘹𝘵 𝘮𝘰𝘳𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨
𝗱𝗲𝗿𝗲𝗸'𝘀 𝗮𝗽𝗮𝗿𝘁𝗺𝗲𝗻𝘁

     𝐍𝐨𝐚𝐡 wakes up this morning feeling conflicted. A small voice in the back of her head tells her to run to her mother and forgive her, but her fragile mind tells her to pull back. It's a constant back and forth, wishing she could forgive her mother as easily as she came back, but a shred of doubt hiding in her mind whispers to her that she should be careful where her trust lies.

Noah walks into the kitchen and finds Derek cooking breakfast at the stove. She can smell the usual aroma of bacon and coffee. Her footsteps sound softly, making Derek turn around.

"Hey, kiddo," he chimes. "You hungry?"

"Yeah," she replies as she sits at the table.

Derek spins around to look at her, surprised by her answer. She hasn't been hungry for breakfast since she first started living with him. He looks her over, making sure she's okay, but she seems normal. But not the normal he's grown to know, the kind of normal he's missed.

"Alright," he says softly and makes a plate for her with scrambled eggs, bacon, and buttered toast. "All yours, short stuff."

Noah takes a bite of the eggs and hums. "If I had known you make good eggs, I would have accepted breakfast a long time ago."

Derek chuckles and shakes his head as he sits across from her with his own plate. "So, how you doing?"

"Fine," she shrugs as she takes another bite. "I think Emily's looking for apartments. I'll have to move in with her soon."

"Isn't that what you want?"

"Yeah, but...I don't know," she pauses for a moment. "I'm kinda gonna miss this. I got used to it."

"Used to me?" he jokes.

"Yes," she giggles. "But also the place, my room, this part of town. I just learned the walk to school without looking at the street signs and I figured out exactly how many steps it is from my bed to the fridge in the dark."

Derek chuckles again and puts his fork down. "I get it, but this is what you want, we both know that."

"I don't want to start over again."

"It'll be the last time—"

"Will it?" she asks with a sigh. "I've done this three times now. A new start, finding a new home, trying to fit into it. I'm just tired."

"Noah," he says softly as he leans forward. "Not everything that happens to you is going to be bad. If all you expect is the worst, that's all you'll get. Most times, people set themselves up to get what they think they deserve, and you don't deserve that."

"I think I'm just sad," she says softly. "I haven't really taken the time to process any of it."

"Sad is better than angry," he replies with a shrug. "Take your time, kid. She's not going anywhere."

"Do we know that for sure?"

Derek shakes his head, dismissing her sarcasm. "Just talk to her. It's just Emily."

Noah wishes she could think like him, but the doubt nags at her again. The fear that she and her mother will never be back on track.

𝘢 𝘸𝘩𝘪𝘭𝘦 𝘭𝘢𝘵𝘦𝘳

Noah walks out of the apartment and locks the door behind her. She heads down the metal flight of stairs and looks around for her mother's car. Once she spots the new car, she rushes over and climbs into the passenger seat.

"Hey," she says softly as she buckles her seatbelt.

"Hi," Emily chimes. "How are you?"

"I'm fine," Noah replies. "How are you?"

"I'm okay," Emily says with a bit of hesitation. "I read your letter."

"Mhm," the teen hums.

"I think it put a lot of things into perspective. Hearing about your feelings and a small part of what it was like when I was gone. I just...I'm sorry."

"It's okay—" Noah shrugs, but Emily shakes her head.

"No, baby, it's not okay," the mother asserts as she wraps Noah's chin with her hand. "That was the whole point of your letter. You were in pain and I allowed it. I let them send me to Paris without you, even though I knew the pain it would cause both of us."

"We can't change it now," Noah says softly.

"I know, but I want you to know that if I could, I would."

Noah nods softly as Emily lifts her thumb from the teen's chin to stroke her cheek. Noah takes a deep breath and looks far into her mother's eyes. The familiar brown color that Noah could never bring herself to forget, and how they always looked back at her with this longing feeling.

"I was thinking we could have lunch and then look at some apartments...? I don't want to choose one without you."

"Yeah," Noah replies. "Sounds good."

Emily drives them to a small cafe, a place that they always go to for coffee and small meals. Noah remembers begging Emily to stop in the mornings before school when she had time to drive her. All the times she pleaded to stop by for a bakery treat before they went home for the day and practically pulled Emily's arm through the door every time they passed by.

Noah stands in line beside her mother, rocking on her heels. Whenever there is a quiet moment, her familiarity with Emily's presence seems to be thrown out the window. It reminds her that they're unsure what to talk about, knowing that there are a thousand things to catch up on but that speaking about them will remind them of their distance.

They place their usual lunch orders, Noah sticking with the Italian wrap and an iced coffee while Emily opts for one of their salads and a black coffee. They sit in the corner by a large window, eating quietly between the two of them until Emily speaks up.

"How has school been? And your friends?"

"Fine," the teen shrugs. "It was hard catching up after the time I took off, but Principal Gallway called in a lot of favors for me, so I kinda didn't have a choice. I caught up on my work and took the exams, but my GPA sorta took a hit."

"You'll get it back to normal, I know you will," Emily says softly.

Noah smiles momentarily and nods. "Yeah, other than that, it's fine. Everyone is good for the most part. Jess is Jess, overworking herself with school and chess and work. But she's been really strong for me, which I know was kind of hard on her. And Liv joined a band, so she spends a lot of her time with them. Ronan and Tate have been busy with football, but Parker didn't join this year because he wants to spend more time with his mom."

"Has he visited his Dad?"

"They've talked on the phone, but he doesn't really wanna see him. And the lawsuit still isn't over."

"Still?"

"Apparently he's fighting it. Don't know how, it seems obvious that he was the problem, but...that's kind of what's pushing Parker away."

"But he's okay?"

"He's good. He's seeing this girl who's really nice. And she's not jealous when he hangs out with us girls. I don't know, he's different—the good kind."

Emily shows a smile that demonstrates her pride, the electric feeling of knowing that Noah has done well for herself.

They finish up their lunch and head to the first apartment on Emily's list. She has all of the addresses written on a post-it note and Noah recognizes the first street. Her school is only a few blocks away and it would cut her walk time almost in half. As they arrive on the street, Noah peers up at the tall apartment building.

It would be odd to live in a place with people living above and below them. She was used to the quiet nights but has gotten a taste of apartment living with Derek. They walk into the lobby, which seems a bit rundown, unchanged for years. An older man at the front desk grabs a key and hands it to Emily, giving her the apartment number for them to find themselves.

As they get on the old birdcage elevator, Noah looks at Emily through her peripheral, wondering if she feels a bit out of place as well. Emily's small chuckle gives her the answer.

The apartment is vintage, old but not ugly. There are hardwood floors all throughout and the rooms are separated by large arches with regal carvings. The living room area is small, the lack of a dining area meaning they would have to be blended into one. The kitchen is humble, about the same size as their old one.

Noah ventures down the short hallway, finding a room on each side. She walks into the first, taking in the square bedroom with a bathroom attached. It's small but the sunlight pouring through the windows gives it a cozy feeling. She turns to walk into the other room, noticing its odd shape with random nooks created from the walls.

Imagining all her belongings in the room, something feels off. Her head says it's a nice place but her heart can't imagine it as home.

Emily leans against the doorway. "Doesn't feel right, does it?"

"I can't put my finger on it," Noah mutters, realizing the windows don't let in any of the sun.

"I can't see us here," Emily adds under her breath.

With that, they walk out of the apartment, and on to the next, hoping to find one that makes it hard to leave.

They visit two more apartments, but they don't feel right either. One of them was too small and the other was aesthetically disappointing. They arrive at the last one and Noah notices that it's a brownstone, a tall townhouse with elegant windows and a well-tended garden on the small lawn.

There are two glass front doors that lead to a small mudroom entryway. Through the farmhouse door, there's a small living room to the left with large bay windows that have a built-in seat underneath and an archway leading to the dining room area. Through the next opening, at the back of the townhouse, is the kitchen. The actual kitchen is slim with dark cabinets and white countertops. On the other side is a long kitchen island with a fireplace behind it. 

By the front door, the staircase takes them upstairs, into a hallway. The first door is the laundry closet and down the hallway is a spacious master bedroom and bathroom. Continuing up the stairs, there's a closet, a full bathroom, and two more bedrooms. One is a perfect square with another set of bay windows. The other is an open space with large windows overlooking the backyard and the city.

"Wow," Emily mumbles as she walks into the last bedroom.

"This is crazy," Noah adds while she walks around the space. "This is bigger than my room at our old place."

"Do you like it?"

"Yeah, it's cool," Noah chimes. "Do you?"

"I think it's great."

"Do you see us here?" the teen asks softly as she sits on the windowsill.

"Depends," Emily shrugs. "Do you?"

Noah's eyes line the room, tracing its shape. She can imagine her bed, her posters along the long wall, and her desk against the windows. Everything that the old place offered her, she can see herself accepting here too. It feels safe and almost like it was built just for the two of them.

"I think it's perfect," she chimes. "It just needs our stuff and then I think it'll really be ours."

"Yeah," Emily beams and sits on the windowsill beside her daughter. "I'll put an offer down when I get back to the hotel."

"Honestly, nothing is better than the old place," Noah mentions with a small frown.

"I know, I miss it too."

"The day we cleaned it out felt so weird," Noah mutters, catching Emily's attention with the rare mention of her daughter's time without her. "I would have done anything to stay. I thought about sabotaging the open house, but the realtor knew my face."

Emily chuckles and puts a hand on her daughter's knee. "I think this place will be just like the old one."

Noah nods, though a sharp twinge of nostalgia and guilt tightens in her chest. How could someone feel guilty over a place—a home? It was just walls, after all. Yet those walls, shaped by Emily's love and care, became the foundation of something more. Emily had transformed it into a shelter, molding it around their new life, her new role as a mother. It was the first place Noah had ever truly felt at home—a dream made real, built with quiet, perfect intention.

𝘢 𝘸𝘩𝘪𝘭𝘦 𝘭𝘢𝘵𝘦𝘳

Emily brings Noah back to her hotel room, telling her that they can relax until dinner time. She's honestly just happy that Noah is open to spending so much time with her. They have been sitting on the beds, channel surfing in a comfortable silence.

"Are you hungry?" Emily breaks the silence and turns to look at Noah, who is sitting on the other bed.

Noah nods and turns the volume on the TV down.

"What do you want to eat?"

"I don't know," Noah replies as she peers up at the ceiling. "I'm up for anything."

"We could go to Rodriguez's," Emily suggests their favorite Mexican spot.

"That place closed down," Noah informs her.

"Really?"

"Yeah, not enough business."

"What about Belle Terre?" Emily asks as she stands up, walking around the hotel room to prepare to leave.

"They changed how they make their pasta," Noah says quickly.

Emily hums softly as she thinks of an alternative. "The Chinese takeout place?"

"Eh, I don't really like that place much anymore," Noah replies honestly.

"We used to always go there," Emily says, a hint of whining in her voice.

"Well, it's not the same anymore," the teen shrugs.

"Then, what is?"

Noah glares at her mother, not appreciating the tone of her voice. "Why are you getting mad at me?"

"Every place we went to before isn't good anymore?" the mother asks.

"It's not that, it's just that it's different."

"Where do you want to go, then, Noah?" Emily asks, her tone biting.

"I don't know," Noah replies, becoming visibly upset as she stands from the bed. "I don't know if I wanna go anywhere anymore."

"We used to go to all of those places," Emily argues once more.

"Well, they're not the same," Noah snaps. "And we're not the same we that we used to be. You're not the same person you were and I'm not the same girl that you left behind!"

"What does that have to do with where we eat?!"

"Because I left all those places behind when you were gone!" Noah shouts with brows knit together with anger. "And I don't like them anymore!"

"Alright," Emily says sarcastically and throws her hands up in defeat.

Noah rolls her eyes at her mother's actions, watching as she grabs her purse. "Where are you going?" she asks, still annoyed.

"I don't know."

"Why are you mad at me?" Noah says, almost sounding like a child.

"I don't know!" Emily says, louder this time.

The teen watches as her mother swings the door open and walks out, slamming it behind her. Noah stands still in between the two beds, speechless at her mother's outburst. It's always her that loses control, never Emily. Her mother was always the calm one, approaching everything with love and understanding. The outburst is just further proof of how Emily has changed, and what being away from her family did to her.

Noah gives her mother some time to calm down, knowing that she would never leave without her. She throws her jacket over her shoulders and slides her shoes over her feet. She makes her way to the elevator, searching for her mother through the lobby and in the dining hall. She doesn't find her, but when she steps outside, she sees her mother by the pool.

Emily sits on the edge of the concrete, her feet swirling through the illuminated turquoise water. Again, another odd view, wondering what her mother went through that made her so different. In a way, she seems free, possibly from the sheer relief of having her life back. Perhaps it's the comfort of knowing she doesn't have to look behind her shoulder anymore, waiting for shadows that will never return.

A swirl of smoke clouds around her face, the breeze drifting it to the side and into the night air. In the cold air, the smoke is strikingly visible, intertwining with the cloud of her mother's warm breath. Noah's eyes squint, wondering if she's seeing the sight correctly.

"What the hell are you doing?" she asks, standing beside her mother.

"What does it look like?" Emily mutters as she waves the cigarette.

"Why?"

"I was depressed and hiding in France, what do you expect?"

Noah's face loosens as she senses her mother's emptiness, anger turning into concern. Her mother is in pain, just as much as she is.

Noah takes the cigarette from between Emily's fingers and tosses it in the pool, instantly putting it out. Emily watches her cigarette float at the water's surface, its lifelessness resembling her own. In the corner of her eye, she can see her daughter untying her shoes and sitting beside her, rolling the ankles of her jeans to put her feet in the water.

"I sat in the apartment for the first three months," Emily says softly, making Noah gaze at the side of her face, the mother too inconsolable to meet her eyes. "I couldn't move, couldn't speak. I didn't hear my own voice for three months. I didn't think I wanted to...I was scared that it would remind me of yours."

Noah's chin crumbles and her brows lower in sorrow.

"I felt pulled away from you. Knowing it was my fault made it feel a thousand times worse. I shouldn't have let them take you away from me. Honestly, I begged JJ, but she said it was no use. It was the only way that we would both be safe."

"Did you really think so?"

"Not at first," Emily replies honestly. "But when I think about it, if he had found us together in another country...no one would have been able to help. And, let's be honest, if you had known I was alive, you wouldn't have been as scared as him. You needed to be under the impression that the only person he was going after was you. And even that didn't stop you from doing whatever you wanted."

Noah smiles softly and shakes her head. "I was doing whatever I wanted because I was giving up..."

"What do you mean?" Emily asks as she peers at her daughter.

"I was afraid of him," the teen says quietly, almost too scared and prideful to admit it. "But I wasn't really afraid of him finding me. It's weird to explain. I wasn't afraid of the end...but I was afraid of what he'd do to me to get to the end."

"Noah..."

"Sometimes, I would see him," Noah whispers. "He would just appear. And he would talk to me, taunt me. I knew he wasn't actually there, but it felt so real...I think there was a time when I did think it was real."

Emily's eyes are on the water, but Noah knows that her attention is solely on her daughter. She's listening to every word, which is probably breaking her heart, but this is the first breakthrough they've had where one of them hasn't gotten overwhelmed or angry.

"I don't see him anymore, though," I assure her. "Ever since you came back and the team caught him."

"I'm sorry—"

"It's not your fault," Noah finally admits. "I know I've been acting like it was, but it's not. It never was."

Emily can't help the smile that forms on her face. It's a relieving one, a curl of her lips that speaks her love for her.

"I know it's different," the mother sighs. "All of this. Finding a new place, adjusting to how things are now. But the only thing that hasn't changed is how much I love you. Because I've always loved you more than I could ever explain in words."

Noah smiles with watery eyes. She reaches out, combing the end of her mother's hair that stops just below her shoulder. "You grew out your bangs," she mutters. "I liked them."

Emily peers into Noah's eyes as she speaks softly. "I had to be unrecognizable."

"I think you still are," Noah whispers.

Emily's brows furrow for a moment. "What?"

"I don't recognize you, Emily," the teen says bluntly. "You're not the person I once knew."

"I guess neither of us are."

"But you're different. No one sees it...but I do."