Adopted by Stromae

treize

It was the middle of the night, three AM, to be precise, that Maelle heard the phone ringing in the kitchen.

Had she not been awake, she wouldn't have woken up. Her mother and father used to tease her about the depth of her sleep, saying that even a mariachi band made up of elephants couldn't wake her from her slumber.

Nonetheless, she was awake, still trying to decipher the complex formulas on her math worksheet. Paul's help had certainly made a difference, but, still, she had trouble understanding the work her class had gone through while she was at home, grieving her mothers death and her father's imprisonment.

She would have ran to grab the phone, but soon enough, she heard the sound of feet on the steps.

She thought nothing of it, though perhaps she should have been suspicious of a call in the middle night. After all, who in their right mind would call Paul and Coralie in the middle of the night on a Tuesday?

It was until Paul appeared in her doorway, a somber look on his face and the portable phone in his hand, that Maelle felt unnerved.

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"He what?" Maelle exclaimed, hardly believing her ears. For a moment, she was absolutely certain that she had falling asleep and this was but a nightmare. After all, this many horrible things could never happen to one person. She cut this thought short as soon as she pinched herself discreetly, but nothing changed.

"They say it's been happening for a while now, but they're not absolutely sure," Paul told her, uncomfortable with the position he was put in. This was possibly one of the hardest things he had ver had to do.

Maelle shook her head, "They're wrong, then. There's no way my father was taking drugs, again. He wanted to get out and try to get custody of me. He was trying!" She sobbed, hardly able to force the words out of her mouth.

Paul closed his eyes momentarily, "They said that someone was smuggling him drugs, Maelle. The board of directors of the rehabilitation facility need me to ask you if t was you," He said, gulping. He was unable to look her in the eye. He couldn't believe that he, the man she was just beginning to resent a little less, was the one who had to question her.

Maelle could help the feeling of betrayal that washed over her. Sure, she hadn't liked Paul in the beginning, but she didn't think he would stoop so low as to accuse her of smuggling drugs into a rehab centre, "Why the hell would I jeopardize my father's recovery? Do you think I wanted him to go back to the drugs? Do you think I wanted him to stay in that place? How stupid to you think I am?" She cried out, unable to meet his eyes.

Apparently, all of the yelling that had occurred managed to awaken Coralie, who came running into Maelle's room, only to find both her husband and her foster daughter, both with tears running down their cheeks, "What's going on?" She asked, panicked.

Paul looked up at her, "Can you give us a minute? I'll tell you everything in a little while," Said he, a look of anguish lacing all of his features.

Once Coralie had departed, Maelle resumed her loud sobbing.

"This means I'll never see him again," Maelle cried out, causing Paul pain at every cry.

"Not necessarily. You'll probably be able to see him a short while," He attempted to console her, but at his words, her head shot up to meet his eyes.

"No, you don't understand," She told him, shaking her head so violently Paul thought it might just fly off, "I never want to see that man again. He's dead to me." She held her legs close to her body, resting her chin on her knees.

Paul flinched at her cold tone. She had been cold to him before, hut never like this. She seemed deadly serious, as if nothing could change her mind. So, of course, as her temporary father, he had to try.

"You guys can get through this, I'm sure of it," He attempted, though he knew it couldn't do much.

She stared at him, "You'll never understand,"

"Then make me understand," He urged. He knew that he was being pushy, maybe a little too pushy, but he was afraid that if she held everything inside, she would eventually combust.

She sucked in a deep breath, "I can forgive a lot, Paul. You have no idea to what extent I can forgive. I can't do it this time, though. I forgave the drugs, even though during that time, I was still grieving my mother's death. Do you know how hard it's been?" She asked him rhetorically, "This is the time that you really want a parent around. My mother died, not jut his wife. Doesn't he know how much I wanted to do anything to take the pain away? I resisted. That's the difference between him and I - I resisted," She told him, shaking her head, "This, though, I can't forgive. I waited so long for him to come out of that place an come back to me, so that we could do this together." She said, face stoic, unapologetic.

In normal circumstances, Paul would have rubbed her back or held her hand - anything to give her comfort. He knew he was in no position to do so.

"Is that too much to ask - to have a father?" She asked rhetorically, to which Paul shook his head, "When he started smuggling and taking drugs in rehab, he kissed goodbye to a life with me in it. He should have known that much. I did everything I possibly could!" She exclaimed, breaking down.

That was when Paul decided that she needed comfort. He pulled her into his arms gently, letting her cry on his shoulder. She sobbed heavily, while Paul cried quietly. He couldn't help but feel pained by the whole scenario. He desperately wanted her to feel better, for her to let him comfort her.

"I did everything I could, right?" She asked him, uneasiness evident in her eyes.

Paul nodded, closing his eyes, "You did everything you possibly could,"

And, with that, her sobs became quieter, until all that was left was the steady flow if tears down her cheeks.

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a/n: omg!!! hi!!! welcome to chappy 13!!! glad you've read this far!!!

yours truly,

-danz