ℍ𝔸𝕌ℕ𝕋𝔼𝔻 - ᴛʜᴇ ᴍɪᴋᴀᴇʟꜱᴏɴꜱ

𝖈𝖍𝖆𝖕𝖙𝖊𝖗 𝖓𝖎𝖓𝖊𝖙𝖊𝖊𝖓

❧ jenna finds out the truth—and takes it remarkably well ❧

≪•◦ ❈ ◦•≫

Everything had gone to shit faster than Amalie could keep up with.

The past week felt like a fever dream. First, there was the revelation that she was fated to be with the world's most powerful family. She didn't know much about the details yet, but she did know Elijah. And Elijah, at least, made her feel...something good. Something steady, even amidst the chaos.

Then, Alaric had daggered him. Amalie's stomach twisted at the memory of Elijah's skin greying, his anguished cry echoing through the dining room. The image hadn't left her mind, and she hadn't spoken to anyone since. Instead, she'  spent her days hiding in her new apartment. She was glad none of them knew where it was. She played Monopoly with her ghosts, Ana and Max. They made for unconventional company, but she liked it that way. She had to move the pieces for them, roll the dice, and make sarcastic commentary while they bickered over property trades and taxes. It was a peculiar sort of solace—quiet moments in a storm she couldn't control.

But just as she was beginning to settle into the illusion of peace, Isobel had shown up. Elena's birth mother, Alaric's not-so-dead ex-wife, and the surprise that had rattled Jenna's world, showing up on her doorstep. Jenna, who was unaware of the supernatural secrets swirling around her, felt blindsided. She'd looked Isobel in the eye, heard the woman speak, and seen every answer to her painful questions unravel in an instant.

Why had Alaric kept this from her? It would've been so simple—he could've just said that she had run away, they had issues. Or at the very least, let her know Isobel was still alive.

Then there was Elena, who had known about Isobel all along. The lie lingered like a bitter taste, which made Jenna feel betrayed on all sides. So, when she finally broke down, she'd packed her bags, her tears barely dried, and told Elena that she needed out—just a few days of peace and quiet, away from everyone, away from the drama, to work on her college thesis and escape. And Amalie had been the only person she trusted enough to ask for refuge.

Amalie's eyes drifted to the clock on her wall, watching the seconds tick by, wondering how Jenna would look when she arrived, and what words might be left unsaid between them.

A faint knock sounded at the door, and Amalie's heart gave a small, unexpected lurch. She opened it to find Jenna standing there. She looked utterly worn. Her hair was tied back in a loose ponytail, her face bare of makeup, and her eyes were swollen and red, like she'd spent the entire night crying. She clutched a small suitcase in one hand and a canvas bag in the other.

"Hey," Amalie said softly, stepping aside to let her in. "Come on in."

Jenna gave her a weak smile, stepping into the apartment and glancing around, taking in the space. "Thanks for letting me crash here," she murmured, setting her suitcase down by the couch. "I just...I couldn't stay there anymore."

"You don't have to explain," Amalie replied, taking the bag from her and placing it near the suitcase. "You can stay as long as you need." She gestured toward the small kitchen. "Coffee is in the cabinet by the sink, and the bathroom's just down the hall. Oh, and I only have the one bed, so if you want, I can take the couch."