Law and Order- complete

III

Chris^

Last night, after walking back into the house, I immediately went to my room and closed the door. Chris and Cameron were, of course, still downstairs and pigging out on the cookies. Because of the way the dining room was set up, I don't think they noticed me come in.

After showering and changing into a sports bra and joggers, I'd watched Criminal minds until I dozed off, telling myself that in the morning, I'd talk to my mom and hopefully knock some sense into her without Chris being around. I have the feeling that he intimidates her, as unusual as it sounds.

My plans had gone to complete shit when I woke up this morning to the sound of Blake Shelton being blasted on the Alexa downstairs. I mumble incoherent curse words as I yank the duvet from over my body and stiffen m,y legs in a stretch, soothing over the spot where my wound is still healing before tossing my feet over the edge of the bed and standing to my feet.

I decide to throw an olive green crewneck and make my way out of the room, looking over the railing and at the foyer and not seeing much. So I walk downstairs, the music assaulting my ears now that I was closer to it and making my face twist up in suspicion.

I reach the bottom of the stairs and peer over to the living room, my face falling at the sight of Cameron with his XBOX hooked up to the TV. Miranda sits in her recliner, wearing an oversized gray tee dress that stops mid-calf. She's on her phone, playing Candy Crush, I suppose. But I don't miss the dark circles under her eyes and the overall exhausted look on her face.

I want to approach her, but I stop, my brows creasing when I realize that Blake Shelton's voice is coming from the kitchen, along with the smell of sizzling, crispy, bacon and a spatial grazing a pan to cook what I assume is pancakes.

My legs carry me around the kitchen, when I pass the dining room I see that the mess from last night is still there. The only thing cleaned is the tray that held all the cookies.

I mentally groan as my eyes fall upon Chris, wearing Miranda's apron as he hisses when a piece of bacon grease hits him. The kitchen is an absolute fucking mess; pots and pans everyone, pancake batter wasted on the floor, boxes and wrappers that he'd used splattered across the island. Miranda hates her kitchen being dirty but I've got the feeling that's something else she's willing to compromise for this slob.

I turn away before he can see me and head back to the living room, seeing that Miranda was no longer on the couch, I look up the stairs. I couldn't hear shit with the overwhelming music so I assume she was there.

I take the steps in twos. I know she was probably up there to pee but I wanted any chance I could have alone with her because what I just saw -Chris cooking breakfast while his shithead son places video games on the living room TV- was something I don't think I could get used to.

"Mom," I say, entering her and Ellen's room. I look around, feeling a slight twinge when I realize the room is practically empty with the exception of their bed in the middle of the room and the nightstand next to it. Everything else is in cardboard boxes lined up against the wall, some of the boxes opened and dug into like she needed something she'd forgotten was packed.

"In here." She calls from the bathroom past their closets. I walk to the sound of her voice, sighing when I see her palms on the sink as she exhales a deep breath. She looks up to me and I'm met with a sadness in her eyes I'd never seen, and my plan to bombard her with questions falters once more, and all I can do is wrap my arms around her.

"I'm fine, Mija, don't," She objects warily, pulling me away. I only look at her, my chest aching again. I hate that she's going through so much stress. I know it's her fault, but she doesn't deserve it.