𝐏𝐈𝐂𝐓𝐔𝐑𝐄 𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐅𝐄𝐂𝐓 │ 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐧

𝐓𝐖𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐘 𝐅𝐎𝐔𝐑

THE NEXT MORNING, EMBERLY SAT outside her house in her car, the engine still running. Her hands gripped the steering wheel, her fingers tapping rhythmically against the leather as she weighed her options. Flee or go inside. She wasn't ready to face what waited beyond those doors. After last night's dinner, when everything fell apart, this house felt less like home and more like the place where her mistakes were laid bare for everyone to judge.

She already knew what awaited her inside: the disappointment in their eyes, the endless questions, and the way they'd tiptoe around her from now on, as if she might shatter.

Her phone buzzed again in the cup holder. The screen lit up showing contents of missed calls and texts. Most of them were from Evelyn, some from Jessica, and even a few from Spencer. The sheer volume of messages was overwhelming, but she hadn't had the strength to answer last night. She'd only replied to Evelyn once to say she was fine and staying at a hotel, just to stop the constant ringing.

Fine. What a lie. She wasn't even close to being fine. 

With a frustrated sigh, Emberly tossed her phone onto the passenger seat. The battery was almost dead anyway, just like her resolve. She couldn't keep running. She had no money, no plan, and she felt sick. It had been over twenty-four hours since her last drink or pill, and the withdrawal symptoms were creeping in—the headache, the nausea, the heaviness in her limbs.

Her reflection in the rearview mirror looked unfamiliar, her dark-rimmed eyes staring back at her with a mix of defiance and defeat. 

Before she could change her mind, Emberly killed the engine, grabbed her keys and phone, and stepped out of the car. Every step toward the house felt heavier than the last, like she was trudging through quicksand. She hesitated at the front door, her heart pounding in her chest like a drumbeat. This is it. No turning back now.

Her hands shook as she slid the key into the lock, hesitating for a moment before finally turning it. The air was heavy, suffocating almost, and the sound of muffled voices from the living room made her stomach twist into knots. She placed her keys on the table, her hands trembling slightly.

Before she could decide whether to retreat or face them, Evelyn appeared in the doorway.  Her expression was soft, hesitant, like she wasn't sure how Emberly would react.

"Hey," Evelyn said gently, walking toward her. Without warning, she wrapped Emberly in a hug.

Emberly stiffened. "What are you doing?" she asked, frowning. Evelyn wasn't the touchy-feely type, and after last night, she'd expected anger, not...this.

Evelyn pulled back, keeping her hands on Emberly's shoulders. "You texted me that you were fine, but we were still worried about you. We just want to help."

"We?" Emberly asked, her eyes narrowing.

Evelyn gestured toward the living room. Emberly followed, her stomach tightening when she saw who was waiting for her. Jessica. Mark. And Spencer. Her heart sank.What is he doing here?

"What's going on?" Emberly asked, her voice tinged with suspicion as she stopped short of the living room. 

Jessica stood, her expression calm but tinged with sadness. "Can you sit down? We just want to talk."

"No, I'll stand. Someone want to tell me what this is about?" Emberly crossed her arms, her guard instantly up.

"Emberly, we want you to know that everyone here loves you," Mark began, his tone measured but firm. "If there's anything you ever want to talk about, you can come to us. We're all here because we're worried about your well-being and safety."