𝟎𝟗𝟑. 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐛𝐚𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐨𝐨𝐦 𝐦𝐢𝐫𝐫𝐨𝐫

















𝟎𝟗𝟑. 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐛𝐚𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐨𝐨𝐦 𝐦𝐢𝐫𝐫𝐨𝐫

you're on your own, kid ──── taylor swift


( i typed "bathroom mirror" so many
times in this chapter that my phone
began autocorrecting )











































☀︎ 𝐛𝐫𝐨𝐨𝐤𝐥𝐲𝐧'𝐬 𝐩𝐨𝐯





𝖨 𝖲𝖳𝖠𝖭𝖣 𝖡𝖤𝖧𝖨𝖭𝖣 𝖬𝖠𝖳𝖨𝖫𝖣𝖠,𝖯𝖴𝖫𝖫𝖨𝖭𝖦 𝖬𝖸 𝖥𝖨𝖭𝖦𝖤𝖱𝖲 𝖳𝖧𝖱𝖮𝖴𝖦𝖧 𝖧𝖤𝖱 𝖧𝖠𝖨𝖱 𝖠𝖲 𝖨 𝖠𝖳𝖳𝖤𝖬𝖯𝖳 𝖳𝖮 𝖡𝖱𝖠𝖨𝖣 𝖨𝖳.She just watches me in the mirror as I pull strand after strand over the other, hoping I'm doing this right as it's been a while. I've braided my hair in the past, but now that it's shorter, I don't do anything to it.

Matilda, though, has long hair that definitely could do with being cut, but she seems adamant on keeping it this long, claiming that her mother always liked that she had such long hair, and that it could be pulled into the nicest of hairstyles such as twin braids.

That's why I'm spending the early hours of the morning braiding her hair── because Matilda asked and because her mother used to do it for her in the mornings she felt good. If I can help Matilda remember something good of her mother, it'll make me feel like I've accomplished something after I barely helped Emory last night.

Sure, I was there for her, and we definitely became better friends, but I now don't know what I'm supposed to do. As of right now, I am the only person who knows the truth she's so afraid of. She confided in me in a way nobody has, and I could barely get a word out after I found out the truth.

Chandler Groff is her biological father.

I mean, what are the freaking chances of that? I have about a thousand questions── all that can't be answered unless he offers the answers. I doubt Groff will give us any answers, especially since he's looked her in the eye, knowing that she was his daughter, and he didn't say a damn thing.

What if he doesn't know? No. He must know.

The way he looked at her when we met him, it just looked... eerily similar, like he could place her. Also, I can still hear the way he said her name that day. There was some kind of familiarity in the way he pronounced her name, like he knew of her despite her not being in the articles that had been written about us.

If he knows that Emory is his daughter, why is he not trying to do something? I know she won't, you know, forgive him, but he could come forward and, I don't know, apologise. Hello, he literally ran Emory's mother out of town just so his secret love child wouldn't be heard of. He sounds like a fucking dick, and Emory deserves an apology from the man she shares blood with.

Unless... and it may seem crazy, but what if Emory was right in saying that he had something to do with her mother's death. Surely not, right? Don't get me wrong, when we met Groff, I thought he was fucking strange, and there's definitely something off about his entire family, but for him to kill Emory's mother seems extreme.

After Emory walked off last night, claiming she was going to bed, I sat in the bathroom, just staring at the blood on the floor from Emory's wound, a great pain in my chest as I remembered that she had suffered a great deal without any of us knowing. For her to confide in me in the way she did means a lot, but I let myself cry last night as I was reminded of all those things she'd do to herself just to feel better. Looking at Emory from afar, you'd never think for one second that she'd ever consider hurting herself in such a way.

Then again, you never know what somebody is going through, not until you unpick them piece by piece and reveal the most horrific of things.

I've since cleaned the blood from the bathroom floor as I didn't want Matilda to see it. Now I'm just wondering how Emory is doing and if she wants to talk again because I really do want to try and help, if that's even possible.

I want to check on her, run upstairs and ask her if she's okay, see if she's told Kiara, but I'm staying put, focusing on something like Matilda's hair so I don't run off and make matters worse.

"Brooke?"

I snap out of my thoughts, realising I'm just staring at Matilda's hair, only one braid currently holding. I find that the braid actually looks pretty good. "Hm."

"Are you okay?"

I nod, exhaling a heavy breath. "Yeah. I'm, uh... I'm okay. Sorry."

Her lips press together, forming a thin line. "Okay."

I clear my throat, knowing I need to start up some kind of lighthearted conversation so she doesn't grow suspicious of my silence. "My dad used to braid my hair," is what I choose to say. "He used to call them 'Brookie Braids'." I laugh fondly, remembering something so gentle and loving about my father from when I was her age. It's just a shame he wasn't like that my entire life, but then he wouldn't be my dad, would he?

Her eyebrows pull together. "Brookie?"

"My dad used to call me that," I explain, a faint smile on my lips as I recall something good about my father. "I was Brookie and John B was Bird."

Matilda pouts, looking like she's trying to hold a laugh. "Brookie and Bird?"

I tug on her braid gently, bringing that airy laugh out of her. "What's wrong with that?"

"Sounds like a bad TV show," she retorts.

My mouth gapes, feeling slight offended. "Wow."

"Sorry," she whispers, our eyes meeting in the full length mirror that's propped up against the wall in mine and JJ's room. "My mom used to call me Mattie." I catch the drop in her tone as she mentions her mother, and I offer her a small squeeze on the shoulder.

"That's nice," I say, parting her hair into three sections. "Cute."

"Better than Brookie," she murmurs. I breathe out a laugh, tugging her hair again.

"Hey, baby, why──" I look away from Matilda, her hair in my hands, and I find JJ coming into the bedroom. He stops, noticing I'm with Matilda. "Hey, Tills."

"Hi," she beams, looking way more excited to see him than when she saw me this morning. To say that JJ wasn't too thrilled about this six-year-old girl just appearing out of nowhere, he seems to like her plenty now. I mean, he's already gifted her a nickname that only he calls her.

JJ looks back to me, leaning against the doorframe. "You look beautiful," he states, but I know that is not what he was going to say beforehand.

I inhale, pinning him with a hard look as I feel my cheeks heat. "Thanks."

"Gross," Matilda grimaces, face recoiled in disgust.

"Think you're just jealous," JJ replies, lifting his shoulders in a shrug. "Anyway, why's the bathroom mirror smashed?" Right, I haven't had time to explain the smashed bathroom mirror to anyone as it's so early in the morning, and I didn't think anyone would notice.

Although, it seems I was wrong as the one person who I thought would never care about the bathroom mirror is asking me about said bathroom mirror.

Now, I could lie and say I smashed the mirror── for what reason, I don't know. Or I could tell the truth and tell JJ that Emory smashed it, but she told me not to mention her breakdown nor the secret only we know. I could just say she smashed it as she was upset but she's okay now. Would that be okay? I don't know.

I open my mouth to lie or tell the truth, I don't know, but I open my mouth to speak when Pope peers around the doorframe and asks, "Why's the bathroom mirror smashed?" He glances at the little girl whose hair I'm still trying to do. "Hey, Matilda."

She smiles at Pope. "Hi."

I stare at the two boys standing at the door, now realising I have to think of something. "Uh, well, the──"

"Hey!" Kiara steps up beside Pope, now three people crowding the doorway. "Hi, Matilda." Kiara waves at her, she waves back. "Why's the bathroom mirror smashed?"

"My God, do you all use the bathroom at the same time?" I ask, waiting for somebody else to pop out and piss me off, but nobody appears... for now. "Who else wants to know? Sarah? John B? Cleo? Where they at?"

Pope's face scrunches, head rearing back. "Did you wake up on the wrong side of the bed?"

I glare at him, jaw hard. "No."

"Yeah, baby, are you okay?" JJ asks, and I have to refrain from throwing something at them.

"Why's the bathroom mirror smashed?" Matilda asks, smiling innocently like she's not adding to this frustration, but it's pretty impossible to be mad at her so I just force myself to smile.

"Hey. I asked first," JJ fights, jabbing a finger in Matilda's direction. "Why's it smashed? I gotta take a leak."

"The smashed mirror isn't stopping you, JJ," Kiara comments, crossing her arms over her chest as she leans back against the door.

Something must click in JJ's head, I don't know, but he steps away from the door upon realising that he can use the bathroom regardless of the smashed mirror. "Oh, yeah." He leaves two people to now stand and crowd my doorway.

I clear my throat. "The mirror is──"

"Hey, why's the bathroom mirror smashed?" Sarah asks, replacing JJ in stepping into the bedroom with Pope and Kiara because everybody just needs to be inside my room. Her lips upturn, the sweetest, brightest smile on her lips as she looks to the girl whose hair I'm still trying to do. "Hey, Matilda." She waves her fingers at her.

Matilda waves, giggling softly. "Hi."

I feel like I've been hit with some serious deja vu right now, so I need to clarify why the bathroom mirror is smashed before the final two people of our crew stumble in here and ask the same fucking question that I don't──

John B pokes his head in. "Hey, why's the──"

"Fuck off!" I yell, knowing he would be the one to knock me over the edge.

"Language!" Matilda shouts, clapping her hands together, twisting away from me as I try to hold her hair.

"Woah. Somebody woke up on the wrong side of the bed," John B comments, and now I wish for an anvil to fall on my head. Or maybe for it to hit everybody else on the head... besides Matilda and JJ, of course.

"Seriously, can you just answer the question?"

"I'm trying to──" I sigh, deciding that I will not be the one to deal with this as I had nothing to do with the bathroom mirror. "You know what, why don't you ask Emory why the bathroom mirror is smashed?"

"Why would we ask Emory?"

"Emory isn't here," Kiara says.

My mouth gapes slightly, my eyes narrowing as I try to figure out where she went so early in the morning. In fact, why is everybody awake this early in the freaking morning. "What?"

"Did she smash the mirror?" John B asks.

"Huh. That's weird," Sarah comments, looking over her shoulder as JJ barges through the doorway that's now crowded by everybody but Cleo.

"Did Emory smash the mirror?" Kiara asks, concern etched in her voice.

"Emory isn't here?" I ask, feeling JJ sit down on the bed beside me. He leans in, pressing his mouth over mine quickly as I stare forward at Kiara, needing the answer.

"Ew. Come on, man," John B groans, beginning to leave which will leave some room in the fucking doorway. Thank you, JJ.

"No," Kiara replies, and the realisation of where she could've gone hits me. Surely she wouldn't have gone to confront Groff, right? If she thinks he had something to do with her mother's death, she surely wouldn't go see him, would she? Shit.

"Wait. So Emory smashed the mirror?" Pope asks, repeating the exact question everybody has already asked.

I open my mouth, and Sarah speaks. "Why?"

"Oh, my God," I breathe out, letting my head now hit JJ's shoulder. "I swear, you're like puppets."

Matilda laughs, completely turned to me now, half of her hair still not in a braid. "Like Kermit?"

"I'm totally Kermit," John B speaks up, appearing out of fucking nowhere. I thought he left.

JJ rears his head back, nose scrunched. "Why?"

"I'm the leader of us," he argues, but that's not a reasonable reason for him to think that he deserves the title of Kermit.

"More like a side character," Kiara mumbles.

Damn straight. This is my story, thank you.

"This is not a serious conversation, is it?" Sarah asks, looking around at each of our friends, likely trying to figure out why she ever left the Kook life for this.

"You are not the leader," JJ fights, raising his arms in exaggeration.

John B scoffs. "And you are?"

"I think I'm more like the leader," Pope decides, and I seriously wish I could disappear with a click of my fingers because this cannot be the conversation we're having in my bedroom at six o'clock in the morning.

"No, I am the leader. I'm Kermit," John B defends, holding his hands up.

"You're like the rat," Matilda comments, amusement buried in those blue eyes of hers. "You know, Rizzo?"

"Oh, my God."

John B's mouth gapes, each of my friends laughing, including myself, at Matilda's comment while he looks downright offended. "I don't like you," is all he utters before he actually leaves. Ah, thank you, Matilda.

Matilda pouts. "That was mean."

"Wait. So Em is not here?" I ask again, looking towards Kiara who is still leaning against the door, arms crossed.

"Did you not hear her earlier, like──"

"I'm sorry." I press my lips together, frustration dripping off me as it's too early for this shit. "Why are you all in my bedroom at six o'clock in the morning?"

"Hey!" JJ frowns. "My bedroom too, Sunny."

I sigh loudly, placing a hand over his mouth as, while I love him, I need his cuteness to stay quiet. "Where'd she go?" I ask Kiara, hoping nobody fucking interrupts me again.

Kiara shrugs. "Don't know. I've tried calling her, she won't answer." She has her phone, that's a good sign. I could track her using that fucking Find My Friends or whatever app we all share, and I can check if she's insane enough to actually go and confront her biological father. "Why'd she smash that mirror?"

"You'll have to ask her," I reply casually, standing up from my bed.

"No, I'm asking you. Why'd she break that mirror, Brooke?" Great. I'm about to argue with Kiara over her girlfriend like I have any clue in the world why she does what she does. I mean, I know she was upset last night, but I'm not in any place to discuss that with everybody else, not even Kiara.

"Hey!" Matilda shouts. "What about my hair?"

"JJ or, uh, Sarah..." I wave my hand towards Sarah as I pass by her, already pulling my phone out my back pocket. "Finish Matilda's hair."

"Woah. Where are you going?" Kiara asks, snatching my wrist, causing me to nearly drop my phone much like that fucking whiskey bottle from last night.

"Hey! The counter is sticky!" John B calls out, and that is just another thing I don't need to deal with right now. "What's going on?" John B asks, once again appearing out of nowhere and right in front of me.

"Nothing," I utter, clicking on the app that tracks us so none of us end up, you know, dead. "Why is everybody awake anyway, what's going on?"

JJ grins, tugging at the finish braid of Matilda's hair. "It's sunny, Sunny."

Matilda's nose scrunches. "That wasn't funny."

"Well, nobody asked you, kid."

"Can you just do my hair?" If I wasn't worried about where Emory was running off to, I'd finish her hair but I need to go and find her. I can't have her running off to find Groff, not right now, not when we should figure out how to approach this without anything bad happening.

"Tills, do I look like I can do your hair?"

"But──"

"I'll do it," Sarah offers, already moving to stand behind Matilda.

I nod, relieved Matilda's hair will get done today. "Great. I need to──"

"Where are you going?" Kiara asks again.

"Nowhere. I'll, uh, be back in──"

John B grabs my shoulders, forcing me to stop running off, but I really don't have time to just stand and chitchat. "The Swell, B."

I pause, a resounded sigh falling past my lips as I should've known the Swell would be good today as the waves I saw just outside this morning were glorious. If I surfed, I'd be dying to get out there, but I'm not fully equipped to surf just yet. JJ's tried to teach me on some of the other days when the waves are just as good as they are today, but it's taking me much longer than I thought to understand it.

It's a beautiful day that, no matter what you're doing, you hit the break regardless. It's a day the whole island comes to enjoy, especially if you grew up in the Outer Banks. To me, it's a day where I sit on the beach with my sketchbook while my friends have the greatest time on the water.

Don't worry, I will be doing that today, I just need to check in on Emory.

"I'll be back soon, okay? I'll get Emory."

"Emory?" Kiara splutters. "Why are you──"

"I'll explain it later, Kie, I promise. Just..." I move away from my brother, pushing my feet into my Converses, marking where she is on my phone. "I'll meet you at the beach!"

"Wait. Did Emory actually smash the bathroom mirror?" Pope asks, peering around the doorframe to my bedroom.

I ignore him, moving towards the front door. "I'll be back soon!"

Kiara steps forward. "But──"

"Bye!"





















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𝖥𝖮𝖫𝖫𝖮𝖶𝖨𝖭𝖦 𝖤𝖬𝖮𝖱𝖸 𝖮𝖭 𝖥𝖨𝖭𝖣 𝖬𝖸 𝖥𝖱𝖨𝖤𝖭𝖣𝖲 𝖫𝖤𝖣 𝖬𝖤 𝖳𝖮 𝖧𝖤𝖱𝖤── 𝖠 𝖧𝖮𝖴𝖲𝖤 𝖨 𝖣𝖮𝖭'𝖳 𝖱𝖤𝖢𝖮𝖦𝖭𝖨𝖲𝖤.I assume it's hers. Well, her father's. Her adoptive father, by the way, not her biological one. Shit. This family shit just got more complicated now.

I stand in front of a house that I find is quite close to Matilda's. Shit. I was supposed to have dropped Matilda off at her house as I don't want anyone to worry about her whereabouts, not that I think anybody will, but I basically just kidnapped a child for the night, like, oops.

I'll take her home when I return to the beach. She'll likely argue but she can't just stay with me constantly, not when she has a grandmother who must love her and foster care sniffing around.

Whatever. I can't think of that right now. She's safe with my friends, that much I know, so I just need to knock on this door, find Emory, and drag her back home so she can spend the day with us rather than sulking about this secret that she can't do anything about for now.

I step up to the front door, prepared to knock and potentially meet her father── her real one, as her mother put it in the letter── but then I hear a familiar voice behind me. "Hey!"

With my fist raised and ready to knock on the door, I look over my shoulder to find Kiara storming over to me. Yeah, I should've known she'd follow me. I just ran off and told her I was going to get her girlfriend, so it's not much of a surprise that she's followed me.

I step back from the door. "Kie, hey, how are──"

"Cut the bullshit, Brooke, what's going on?" She stops in front of me, looking angry in the way she glares at me, like she wants me gone. If it were possible, I think she'd turn me into ash. Crazy to think she and I were once all over each other, huh? Now she looks just about ready to kill me.

"I-I can't tell you, but Emory──"

"What is going on with Emory? I want you to tell me, Brooke."

"I can't tell you. It's her business."

"Yeah, well it seems she's been talking to you for whatever reason, so why? What is she hiding?" I stare at her, hinting a slight twinge of jealousy in the way she speaks to me, like she's hurt that Emory turned to me when it was a complete coincidence that I found her in such an upset state last night.

"Kie, I think you need to talk to Emory..."

"I'm asking you, Brooke," she repeats, stepping closer to me, and I swear I can feel the angry heat of every word as she utters them. "What is she hiding? What happened? Why did she smash the bathroom mirror?"

My head falls into my hand. "Can we stop talking about the bathroom mirror? It's no big deal. You fucks are all attached to it for some reason."

"I want to know why my girlfriend is smashing mirrors, Brooke."

"Okay, Kie──"

"What the hell is going on?"

Kiara and I look away from one another, our breathing heavy as we have good lungs for arguing, thank you, and we find Emory standing at the front door with her arms crossed like she can't believe that this is what she's had to come outside to see.

Kiara sighs, relieved. "Oh, thank God." She moves towards Emory, going to wrap her arms around her in a tight embrace that has Emory stumbling. "Are you okay?"

Emory chuckles softly, placing a hand on her back. "Y-Yeah, I'm..." She looks to me over Kiara's shoulder. "What are you doing here?"

"Oh, Kie just thinks we're having some kind of affair at six thirty in the morning," I comment dryly, not amused in any kind of way as, like I've said, it's too early and I don't find anything funny before eleven o'clock.

A laugh ripples out of Emory, and it doesn't sound fake at all, not like many of her laughs from last night. She sounds a lot better than she did last night which is good to see, but it still makes me fearful as she's always appeared free spirited and happy to me, but then she's turned to hating herself in the dark without anybody knowing. I just can't be sure how she really feels.

Kiara scoffs, pulling back from Emory, their hands finding comfort in each other's. "I didn't."

"Yeah, as if I'd have an affair with her," Emory ridicules, looking over at me.

"Excuse me. I am a catch," I argue, and I don't know why I argue it. I just want to set the record straight that I, Brooklyn Routledge, am a catch to men and women, thank you.

I am a catch, right?

"Yeah, sure you are, B."

I tilt my head, smiling innocently as I say, "Well, your girlfriend thought so at one point."

Kiara's eyes widen, mouth clamping shut as Emory applauds── actually claps her hands at me for that comment. "Wow, B. Feisty."

"Look," Kiara starts, eyes flitting between Emory and me. "Can somebody just explain what's going on?"

"Uh, you're the ones who showed up at my door," Emory argues.

Kiara frowns. "Em..." Her head drops, noticing the bandage that wraps around Emory's hand. "It was you that smashed the bathroom mirror... Why? What's going on?"

She sighs, nodding her head towards the front door. "Come inside. I'll explain."

Slowly and slightly hesitantly, Kiara and I step forward, entering the house that Emory only lived in for, like, a day before she took off. The moment the door is shut behind us, I find that this is not any kind of liveable home. It doesn't look like somebody is actually living in it, not with the stacks of opened boxes that cover the floor.

Following Emory, we cross into the living room that only has one brown leather sofa and a TV, this room also scattered in cardboard boxes that I assume holds all their belongings, and they just never unpacked. Lying upon that sofa is a man── a man I can only assume is Emory's father.

He's sleeping, mouth hanging open. Unshaven, hair unwashed and unkept, looking rough and rugged. One arm dangles off, a beer bottle in that hand. Littered at his head and feet are pill bottles and more empty cans and bottles of various types of alcohol ranging from whiskey to cider. This is not a pretty sight to see, not at six o'clock in the morning, but it also feels awfully familiar.

You know who this reminds me of? Luke── JJ's father. He spent his mornings and evenings in this exact position, drunk and high off his head. I recall seeing him in a similar state just two years ago when we needed the keys for the Phantom so John B and Sarah could get off the island.

God, that feels like a million years ago now.

I glance to Emory, noticing that she remains completely emotionless. "That's Dad," she says before moving on and away from this room. There's no point in introducing us to him as he's not in any kind of state to meet us.

We pass by the kitchen that appears to be, well, once again swarmed with empty bottles of alcohol and pills. Dirty dishes are stacked high in the sink, takeaway containers are laid out across the counter, and there's a faint stench that comes from being in this entire room that I need to get away from. Again, I feel as though I'm back in that house before we turned it into a home.

We enter the hallway, walking past a bathroom, a bedroom I assume is her parents, and then we enter her bedroom── or what would've been her bedroom had she lived here for longer than twenty-four hours.

Sitting in her room is a single bed, the covers haphazard to suggest she has slept here lately. A desk is pressed against one wall, a laptop sitting upon that. Besides the laptop is a pile of her clothes which fall to join the floor too. She uses two cardboard boxes stacked on top of one another as a bedside table, half a bottle of vodka sitting on top of it which worries me as I don't know when she's drank that. It could've been her breakfast for all I know.

My eyes skim the room, finding it hard to imagine Emory in here when she fits so well in our home, in our life. This isn't what I ever imagined for her, living in a house where there's no love, no life, nothing. It's very obvious this family doesn't have money, but her father must be getting it from somewhere to pay for this home. I can take a wild stab at where he's getting his money, but I don't say it outwardly.

Emory steps over to the bottle of vodka, huffing out a laugh. "Hard to believe I have no relation to that guy out there, huh?"

"Don't say that," Kiara insists, stepping up to her and yanking the bottle from her harshly. "Now can one of us tell me what's going on? Please."

I look to Emory, knowing only she can make the decision to tell Kiara. Emory goes to sit down on her bed, pulling her legs up to cross them. "I found out who my biological dad is," she tells, staring at the floor rather than at Kiara.

"You did?" Kiara grabs the chair from the desk, pulling it across the floor to sit opposite Emory. "When?"

"Last night." Her head lifts, eyes finding mine.

Kiara also looks towards me, and I suddenly feel as though I'm on the spot. "W-Why are you── What do you know?" Kiara asks, flitting her eyes back to her girlfriend.

"Brooke found me," Emory explains, still choosing to stare down rather than at Kiara. "I was, uh, a little... drunk. It had been a long day. I fought with my dad again, and I just... I just needed a break so I came home and... yeah, not my proudest moment."

"And you..." Kiara inhales sharply, eyes staring at the wound on her hand.

"I'm fine, Kie, I just got upset and smashed the mirror── sorry about that, by the way."

"Oh, no big deal. Everybody seems to miss it though," I deadpan, thinking back to the painful conversation I just had this morning about that damn bathroom mirror.

Kiara reaches her hand out, slipping it into Emory's bandaged one, and I catch a subtle smile touch Emory's face as she intertwines their fingers together. I, on the other hand, feel as though I'm completely invading on a moment that is supposed to be theirs, and theirs alone.

Emory looks up, finally meeting Kiara's gaze. "My mom left me a letter," she continues. "Brooke read it last night."

"And it tells you..."

"Everything," she confirms. "About both my dads, about my mom's life before I was born, about moving away, about... everything." With her other hand that isn't holding Kiara's, she plucks the letter out of her back pocket. She unfolds it, holding it out to Kiara. "Here. You can read it."

Her eyes widen. "Are you sure?"

"I would've told you anyway, Kie, you know that." She waves it towards her, allowing Kiara to take the letter with both hands.

She peers down at the letter. "It's in cursive."

"Yeah, can count on my mom to write something I can't fucking read," Emory mutters, sounding amused by that fact. One of the last things her mother left for her is a letter she struggles to read, like, how convenient.

It doesn't take long for Kiara to read the letter, likely because she doesn't have to read it out loud as Emory is not too keen on it ever being said again. I think, looking at her, I fear she's in some kind of denial which, I guess, makes sense. She's technically grieving both the loss of her mother and her father with the reveal of this news, so I can understand why she's refusing to truly accept that she is not a Thorne through and through as her mother put it.

When Kiara refolds the letter, silently letting us know she's finished reading, she just stares at the floor for a beat, obviously trying to process it. I had a similar look on my face when I read it as I found it so fucking strange that we, of course, took a job helping a man who just coincidentally ended up being her biological father.

Seriously, how does that happen?

"You had a brother," Kiara whispers, an ounce of upset in her tone as we know that her half-brother died alongside his mother, Larissa.

Emory sighs, that news almost worse than knowing who her biological father is. "Yeah, I did. Kinda sucks that I don't. I-I mean, it's sad, you know, but I can't do anything about it now."

"Groff. That's your dad," Kiara confirms.

"Uh-huh." Emory nods.

"Shit. What are you..." Kiara's head shakes as she comes to a stand, obviously needing to pace like Emory did last night, this news weighing down on her. "What are you gonna do?"

"Well, I was thinking of just passing it on to the next person," she responds, smiling sweetly like that isn't the worst idea I've ever heard.

Kiara gives her a hard stare. "Em, this is serious."

"I am serious." Her eyes flit to me. "What about you, B? You want a dad? Yours is dead."

I rear my head back, surprised by the awfully forward comment. I shake my head, knowing I don't need to relive having a dad. "I'm good."

"Okay." She whistles. "Oh, what about JJ? His dad sucks, right? Does he want mine?"

"No, I don't think so," I reply, disappointing her again. "Look, Emory, this isn't like a disease, you can't just pass it on."

"She's right, Em, you can't just pass it on, you need to──"

"No, guys, I don't need to do anything," she interrupts, looking from me to Kiara. "Look, I let you two read that letter because I trust you both. Now, you two are the only ones that know and it's gonna stay that way, alright? This is not going to leave this room, okay? I don't want to go and confront Groff. I don't want another dad. I've got one. He's passed out in the living room, okay?" She points towards her bedroom door. "That is my dad. That has always been my dad."

"Okay," Kiara bites out, pushing the letter back into her hands. "Fine. I'm sorry, it's just... not ideal, I guess."

"I know, and I'm sorry, I just..." She drags her hands through her hair. "I don't want to deal with this. I-I don't need to deal with this, not now, not ever. I trust that you won't tell anybody else, alright?"

I nod, but she already knows I won't say a word. "Okay," Kiara replies. "I won't tell anyone."

"I just wanna forget about it so please help me forget."

Kiara looks skeptical, likely wanting Emory to discuss the situation more, but I know a perfect way in which Emory can truly escape from this hell that she's created in her head. I look to her, smiling widely. "I have the perfect idea."

We're going to join everybody at the beach. We're going to enjoy the waves. We are going to forget.












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soph speaks

i loved writing the dynamic between matilda and the pogues, it was cute

hahah emory wanting to "pass it on" is funny bcos she literally does

jj and emory will find out they're related obvs but we've still got some time before that happens

thankyou for reading!!

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