𝐬𝐮𝗺𝗺𝐞𝐫 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐬𝐚𝐥𝐭 | 𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐢𝐝
After coming home one night from sneaking out to a party, seventeen year old Sabrina finds her mother, father, and sister dead. While FBI agent David Rossi investigates this case, he cracks it a...
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Sabrina Woods
The moment we all sat down for dinner that night, the tension in the air seemed to only build.
I was trying to recover from my embarrassing bathroom break, unable to look Spencer in the eye as he sat across from me at the dining table. His cheeks were flushed and he seemed nervous, trying to make eye contact with me as the garlic bread and pasta plates were passed around the table.
While Michelle sat to my right, Mags plopped herself into the vacant chair to my left, leaving Nix to take the seat at the head of the table next to her. Directly across from him sat Hotch at the other head of the table, his eyes briefly watching Nix's every few minutes.
All of the children sat at a smaller table, much better built for short and stubby legs. Both Nix and Mags continuously turned their head to face the small table to watch Hallie in fascination, hearing her talk to the others.
Bile still burned at the back of my throat as I thought of the two of them embracing her, Hallie letting them as if she'd known them forever- as if she'd missed them, without even knowing them.
It was a hard pill to swallow that Nix wanted to be apart of Hallie's life, and I seemed to physically reject that pill when I was hunched over the toilet in my bathroom, Spencer witnessing and desperately trying to help me.
It felt like I blacked out during dinner. It was quite obvious the profilers around the table were concerned, Nix not taking a second glance at me as his eyes stayed pinned on Hallie, and Mags sending me an occasional eyebrow raise. Michelle and JJ sent me small, encouraging smiles as they chewed through the pasta Dave had made, and I tried to keep from twirling the pasta around my fork absently like a child.
When everyone stood up to clear their dishes, I sprang to my feet and grabbed the plates from them all with a small smile. Before anyone could protest, I was dropping all of the dishes into the sink and soaking them in soapy water.
My head was pounding against my skull, not allowing any room for coherent thoughts, making my brain function on autopilot as I began to scrub at the dishes.
