Life in Hiding

40 ~ Fluffy

**NOTE: You might have to reread the last chapter. This picks up right where chapter 39 ends**

I don't say anything on the drive home.

There are honestly no words to truly portray how I'm feeling right now. About Chloe and her horrible situation. About her, lack of a better term, mother and the despicable human being she is. About what comes next. More importantly, I can't stop thinking about my family.

The twins let a miserable high school senior sit with them at lunch, even though I pouted like a baby. Saffron gives me her dessert in hopes of making me smile, even though she has to keep her room clean to earn them. Scarlett... she does everything for me, even though she's basically still a kid herself.

God, look at how I've treated them.

Glancing over at Chloe as I pull into our driveway, I watch her wipe away a stray tear. "Would you like a minute?"

She shakes her head, undoing her seatbelt and I follow suit. Running around, I grab her hand as we move up the porch steps. She doesn't offer a snide remark about me coddling her, instead she gives my hand a tight squeeze and steps closer.

As I reach for the handle, I silently beg for my house to be normal. With one last plea and the thought that maybe I should've texted Scar first, I open the door and prepare for–

Silence?

Taking a tentative step inside, I glance around to find the living room empty. Same in the kitchen.

"Hello?" I call out, genuinely concerned. "Anyone home?"

The pitiful whine of Fluffy from his crate and the echo of my voice is answer enough so I turn to Chloe, who looks so small hugging her sides. "What can I get you to eat?"

"I'm not–"

"A bowl of fruit it is." I decide, cutting her off. I know she's hungry.

"Sage."

"And a tall glass of water." I add, opening the fridge just to peak around it. "Other than myself, of course."

The wink I send her way causes her to scowl. At least it's an emotion.

She picks at her food, eating enough to keep my quiet, but I know her mind is anywhere but here. I open my mouth three times and three times I shut it before busying myself with letting the dog out. I have no right to say anything to her after how I've acted.

Once the bowl and glass are empty, she stands up. Going up to my room, I clear my throat. "Um, would you like to shower?"

"What?"

"Shower." I shift on my feet. "I know whenever I'm upset it feels nice to rinse off, let the water drown out my screams and have the scalding heat make me feel something." Why the actual fuck would I say that? "Or whatever."

She finally looks at me long enough to process what I've said and blinks once. "I guess."

"Cool." I run to the hall and come back with a towel. "Here's a towel, black just for you." Going through my drawers, I shove a pile of miscellaneous articles on top of the towel. "Clothing for when you get out, including fuzzy socks. Anything else?" I rack my brain before snapping my fingers. Duh. Opening my closet, I pull out a worn, black sweatshirt and add it to the pile. "Your favorite."

"Thanks," she whispers, barely visible over the stack of shit I've handed her, and walks to my bathroom.

"I'll be–" The door shutting cuts me off. "Right here if you need me."