Monday mornings were usually the worst, but this one wasn't so bad. For once, she didn't have to work, so she stayed in bed until the sun had climbed high enough to make her room too bright for sleep.
Dog-eared magazines and a pile of laundry kept her company until her mom's voice floated down the hall.
"Leah! Come help me with lunch, would you?"
She groaned, dragging herself out of bed and into the kitchen, hair a tangled mess and mood somewhere between neutral and mildly homicidal.
Her mom, Sue Clearwater, was already chopping vegetables, a soft smile tugging at her mouth. "You're up late," she said, like it was a surprise.
"No work, no reason," Leah muttered, tying her hair up and taking over the tomatoes.
They cooked in silence for a while, the kind of quiet that was comfortable, broken only by the sound of knives and sizzling oil. Then her mom said casually, "I'm going to see Emily later. She needs her bandages changed again."
Leah's hand paused mid-slice.
Before she could reply, her mom continued, hopeful, "Do you want to come with me? Emily misses you, sweetheart."
That hit a nerve. Normally, Leah would've snapped back without hesitation, misses me? Yeah, right, but the words didn't come this time. She just kept cutting, slower now.
Her mom seemed to notice the lack of fireworks and took it as encouragement. "It wasn't Emily's fault, you know," she said softly. "Sam made his own choices. Emily's turned him away more than once."
Leah's jaw tightened. Previously, those words would've bounced off her like nothing. But now… she found herself thinking about someone else entirely.
What would Mike do?
The memory of his grin, that ridiculous confidence, and the way he somehow made her laugh despite herself, it all surfaced at once. He didn't seem like the type to hold grudges. He'd probably say something stupid but kind, something like let it go or life's too short to stew in past grudges.
And maybe, for the first time, that didn't sound impossible.
She exhaled slowly, setting the knife down. "Fine," she said finally.
Her mom blinked. "Fine?"
Leah shrugged, not meeting her eyes. "I'll go with you. Just… don't make a big deal out of it."
Her mom smiled, a quiet, relieved kind of smile, and turned back to the stove.
Leah rolled her eyes to hide her own faint smile. 'Guess I'll be seeing Emily after all,' she thought. And for once, the idea didn't feel like dragging herself through glass.
…
The smell of pasta filled the house by the time the front door creaked open. Her dad's heavy steps came first, followed by her little brother Seth's lighter ones and his voice announcing, "I'm starving!" like he hadn't eaten in a week.
Leah smirked. Typical Seth.
"Good timing," Sue said, pulling the pot off the stove. "Wash up, both of you. Lunch's ready."
Harry Clearwater, still in his work uniform, a smudge of engine grease on his forearm, kissed Sue's cheek before taking his seat at the table. Seth practically dove into the kitchen, sliding into his chair like a race car crossing the finish line.
When Sue served the pasta, Seth attacked his plate like he'd been raised by wolves.
"Slow down, idiot," Leah said dryly. "The food's not going to run away."
Seth mumbled something through a mouthful of food that sounded vaguely like you're just jealous, which only made her roll her eyes.
Harry chuckled, shaking his head. "You two never change." But there was something in his tone, soft amusement, and a trace of relief. His eyes lingered on Leah a moment longer, and she realized he was studying her, like he couldn't quite believe what he was seeing.
She wasn't scowling, wasn't snapping at everyone. Instead, she was actually smiling.
"Everything okay, kiddo?" he asked gently.
"Yeah, Dad. Why wouldn't it be?" she said, twirling her fork.
He didn't push, just gave a small, approving nod. "Good. It's nice to see you… lighter."
Leah shrugged, trying not to blush. "Don't get used to it."
Across the table, Seth grinned, tomato sauce smeared across his chin. "See, Dad? She can be nice. It's like spotting Bigfoot."
She flicked a piece of pasta at him, which hit him square in the forehead.
"Hey!"
"Oops," she said flatly, though her grin betrayed her.
Sue smiled the whole time, the kind of smile Leah hadn't seen on her mother's face in months, quiet, content, and hopeful. For a moment, the house actually felt like home again.
When the plates were empty and Seth began his usual campaign to avoid dish duty, Harry jingled his car keys. "Ready to go?" he asked Sue.
Sue nodded, then turned to Leah. "You still up for it?"
Leah hesitated only a second before nodding. "Yeah. Let's go."
Seth groaned dramatically. "Lucky. I have homework."
"You also have thumbs," Leah shot back. "So use them for something other than video games."
Harry chuckled as they left, Sue shaking her head at their banter. The car ride was quiet but not tense, just the steady hum of the engine, the forest sliding past, and the faint scent of the ocean as they approached Makah land.
Leah watched the trees blur by through the window, her reflection faint in the glass. She wondered what she was even expecting. Closure? Forgiveness? She didn't know.
But for once, she was willing to find out.
…
The drive through the forest ended at a small, weathered house near the edge of the Makah reservation. The Young family home. The sound of gulls echoed faintly in the distance, and the ocean breeze carried the scent of salt and pine through the air.
When Sue knocked, footsteps approached from inside, slow and uneven. The door creaked open, and Emily appeared.
Leah froze.
Half of Emily's face was hidden beneath white bandages, faintly tinged pink where the blood had soaked through. Her other eye was red and swollen, proof that she'd been crying long before they arrived. Despite all that, she forced a small smile when she saw Sue.
"Aunt… you didn't have to come all this way," Emily said softly. Her voice wavered, betraying exhaustion. Then her gaze shifted, and the smile faltered when she saw Leah standing there.
For a long, uncomfortable second, neither spoke.
Leah's throat felt tight. She'd imagined this moment dozens of times, always with anger, always with sharp words. But standing here now, seeing Emily's ruined face and that flicker of guilt in her visible eye… all that fury drained out of her like water through a sieve.
"Hi," Leah said finally, her voice quieter than she intended.
Emily blinked, clearly surprised. "Hi."
Sue, always the diplomat, broke the tension. "We brought the clean dressings," she said gently. "Why don't we change those bandages, hm?"
Emily nodded and stepped aside. "Of course. Come in."
Inside, the house was neat but subdued. Family photos hung on the walls, Emily smiling beside her brother and his kids. Laughter frozen in time, a painful contrast to the fragile silence now.
When Emily offered them tea, Leah declined with a polite shake of her head. She wasn't sure she could keep her hands from trembling if she held a cup.
They moved to Emily's room, where Sue began carefully preparing the clean gauze and antiseptic. Leah surprised even herself when she spoke. "Let me help."
Sue and Emily both looked at her stunned, but Leah avoided their eyes, busying herself with the gauze. "Just tell me what to do."
As Sue gently peeled away the old bandages, Leah got her first clear look at the injuries underneath. Four deep claw marks slashed across one side of Emily's face, the skin still angry and raw, twisting down to her jaw. Leah's breath hitched.
"Emily…" she whispered, voice breaking. Guilt clawed at her chest. 'I should've been here,' she thought.
Emily, sensing her turmoil, gave a small, broken smile. "It's okay, Leah. Really."
But Leah knew it wasn't. Not yet.
When they finished, Sue gave Emily's shoulder a soft pat. "There, all done." Then she looked between the two girls and smiled gently. "I'll give you both a minute," she said, and quietly stepped out, closing the door behind her.
The silence stretched.
Emily sat at the edge of the bed, fingers twisting nervously in her lap. Leah stood for a moment before sinking into the chair across from her. Neither spoke until Emily's voice trembled out first.
"I'm so sorry, Leah." Her eyes filled instantly, tears spilling down her cheeks. "I never wanted any of this. I didn't want him to look at me, I swear. I told him to stop so many times, but he just…" She pressed her hand to the good side of her face, sobbing softly. "I never meant to hurt you."
Leah stared, frozen. Seeing Emily cry always did something to her, it used to make her want to protect her. Now, it just cracked something open inside her chest.
"Stop it," Leah muttered, her voice thick. "Stop crying. You're making me cry too, and it's annoying."
Emily laughed weakly through her tears. "Sorry."
That was it. The dam broke. Leah let out a shaky laugh that dissolved into tears, hot and unstoppable. "I can't believe I almost lost my best friend over a stupid man," she said between sniffles, wiping at her eyes. "Sam… he doesn't even deserve all the tears I shed for him."
When she said his name, she realized something strange, there was no sharp pang, no rush of bitterness. Just… emptiness. Quiet, clean emptiness.
She met Emily's gaze, and for the first time in months, she didn't see betrayal there, only shared pain.
Leah reached out and pulled her cousin into a hug. Emily stiffened in surprise, then melted into it, crying harder into Leah's shoulder.
Neither of them spoke for a long while. Words weren't needed.
When they finally pulled apart, both were a mess of tears and half-smiles, their faces blotchy and red. But something inside Leah felt lighter, like a wound that had finally, truly started to heal.
…
(Please support with power stones, comments or reviews, these are my fuel to keep writing 🐢🐢🐢)