Daughter of the Moose (sequel to 'Married to a Moose')

Chapter 32

The next morning I woke up. I got in the shower and allowed the water to wash away all the fear and the numbness away. I realized that although I didn't feel loved some of the time, and I didn't feel at place back at home, they still provided for me and they still cared for me, and that I was sad that they were gone, especially because it was from something I did. The water mixed with my tears and it meshed into a steady stream of water flowing down my face. I probably spent a good 20 minutes in the shower just accepting and releasing my emotions. Once I got out and dried off, I felt so much better. It was as if a big heavy burden of emotion was finally lifted off of my shoulders. So much to where I felt like my parents wasn't the only thing I was getting out, even subconsciously. I threw on a random shirt from my bag and a pair of jeans.

" 'sup guys?" I asked as I walked to the other side of our hotel room where they were sitting. We had 2 joined rooms so that there was no awkward bed sharing.

"Not much. How are you doing?" my dad asked.

"I'm fine. I got some emotions out in the shower and I had some time to think and process everything, and I'm ok."

"That's good. You up for trying to help us figure out who killed your parents?"

"Sure." I said as I poured myself some coffee from the cheap little hotel coffee pot.

"Do you have any idea who would have done this or who wrote the note?"

"No. But the only thing I noticed is that we don't have that color of lipstick anywhere in the house, but something about that shade seemed super familiar, like I had recently seen it."

"That's weird. Any idea who was wearing it?" Dean chimed in

"No. Sorry. I don't remember."

"That's ok. Maybe it will come to you or we will say something that reminds you."

"Hopefully. I wanna gank this thing."

I sat at the table in the room and just listened to the boys discuss everything while I attempted to remember who I saw with that lipstick. Then, their conversation reminded me.

"Oh Dean, did you ever figure out what that demon thing was? Her eyes never flashed black and she was extra strong." My dad said.

"I remember!" I interrupted. "That demon from that hunt. She was wearing that exact shade of lipstick, and a lot of it. It was her. She wanted to kill me on the hunt and she wanted to kill me at my house, but when I wasn't home I bet she just killed them to get at me."

"That would make sense." My dad said. "But the problem is, if we find her, how do we kill her? She apparently didn't die from Dean stabbing her in the heart."

"I don't know how we kill her. I thought she was dead. I hate to suggest it, but we may need Crowley on this one." I said.

"I hate to admit it, but I think you are right. We need his help." Dean said, complete irritation in his voice.