[RE-WRITING] The Righteous Man's Daughter {Dean Winchester's Daughter}

02. the pizza man

CHAPTER TWO

THE PIZZA MAN

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minnesota
present day

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Miranda -- that was her name.

I remembered it from the third grade when I came home with a genealogy project and started asking questions about the Reese family history. They sat me (and Henry, since he'd never been told either) down and explained everything. For that whole conversation, and weeks afterwards, one sentence was repeated countless times; "Just because you don't share our blood, doesn't mean you're any less a member of our family." Finally, I'd gathered the courage to ask if I could meet her and they spilled the last of the beans, telling me she'd been murdered. The police never found whoever did it.

"Charlie?" Arianna's tone was light as her hand waved in front of my face, snapping me out of my thoughts. When I turned to look at her, she noticed the tears running down my cheeks. "What's wrong?" She quickly asked, her grin dropping off of her lips. "I promise I won't actually call Hoarders, I was just joking."

I opened my mouth to respond, but I couldn't find the words. Arianna watched me cautiously, pity shining in her brown eyes. I hated that look. I handed her the envelope to read and returned my attention to the photo. From left to right was Dad, Mom, (most likely) Miranda, and some guy I'd never seen before.

Before I could think about it too much, Arianna dropped the envelope onto the coffee table and wrapped her arms around my shoulders, squeezing tightly. "Charlie…" She said again, this time her tone matching the pity I saw in her eyes.

Suddenly, my mind and heart became overwhelmed and I let out a soft sob, turning and wrapping my arms around Arianna. Hearing the strange sound that emitted from my throat, Turtle made his way into the living room from wherever he'd been hanging out and sat at my feet, placing his head between my knees. The three of us stayed like that for a few minutes until I gathered my emotions and stuffed them away to deal with later. Pulling away from Arianna, I gave Turtle a scratch between his ears and patted his side gratefully.

"Thanks," I mumbled, speaking to both of them. I wiped my face with my hands trying to clear away the tear tracks down my cheeks.

"Is there anything I can do to...help?" Arianna offered, unsure of what she should've been doing. I had no clue either.

"I feel like I should read her letter now, but I'm not sure if I'm ready." I admitted, glancing to where it sat on the table.

She nodded in understanding. "Do you want me to be here when you do?"

"Yes," I answered swiftly, barely letting her finish the question. We sat in silence for a moment, both of us staring at the envelope like we were waiting for it to open itself and scream at us like the howlers from Harry Potter.

"We should probably throw all of this crap back in the closet, right?" Arianna suggested, being the first to break the silence. As if he heard the question, Turtle answered with a bark that seemed to say yes, you really should, it's a horrible mess and I can't stand that smell.

Seriously, what died in one of these boxes?

I nodded with a lazy grin and felt grateful for her help dragging the containers and cardboard boxes and other shoe boxes into the closet. With the both of us working on it, the task went by quickly and it was nearly six o'clock by the time we found ourselves sitting on the couch again with evenly paced breaths. As if her phone was waiting for us to be finished, it went off with a sharp ding! sound. She checked it and a frown fell on her face, glancing at me with guilt written across her features.