I told you guys i couldn't stay away! So, i send out a warning before anyone starts this story. The main character suffers from an eating disorder, so if that is a trigger, please be careful. I hope you guys all enjoy!

There was something about New York in the fall that made Emma Shepherd smile. The air, still clogged with noise and the heated stench of trash and exhaust, was just slightly crisper. The leaves falling around her feet, and the nip that disappeared by midday just warmed her heart in a way she hadn't felt in a long time. She glanced at her watch, wincing, and knew even with the extra steps she'd taken to prevent it; she was going to be late. Again. Ms. Goode was constantly penalizing her for being late to class, and no matter what Emma did, she was at least five minutes late every day. Oh well.

She slipped past the lobby of the studio, waving a rushed hello to the receptionist before flinging her bags down in the changing room and tugging off her school uniform. She'd managed to get her black practice leotard on under her collared polo and plaid skirt, and girls weren't required to wear tights under the uniform skirts. Emma usually wore her pale pink tights under hers, anyway. They were quite distracting sometimes, but they saved valuable time. She didn't bother checking her reflection in the mirror; she wouldn't like what she saw anyway.

Whipping her shoulder length curls up into a bun, Emma burst into the studio, tape for her toes in her teeth. Her best friend, Hallie, already stood against the barre, rolling her eyes as she stretched. Emma hopped her way over to her, still trying to adjust her tights. Out of the corner of her mouth, Hallie whispered, "You're late, Ems."

"I know, I know. I was trying to find a library book last period and I got distracted."

Reaching her arm over her head, Hallie laughed. "Well, lucky for you Goode isn't here yet, either. No telling what she'd make you do this time."

Emma copied her movements, blue eyes wide. "Wait, are you serious? I beat her to class? Oh, she is so never living that down. Besides, today shouldn't be too bad. We're probably only doing basics and then finding out our parts for the recital."

Hallie, her sunshine blonde hair twisted high on her head, studied her friend closely. "What's different about you?"

"I don't know. I haven't done anything different."

"There's something definitely off, though. Are you feeling all right?"

Emma's narrow fingers subconsciously flew to her cheeks, and she tried to ignore how disgustingly greasy her skin felt. "No, I feel fine. Just a little tired."

Hallie narrowed her hazel eyes, but before she could press on, the door flew open, and the receptionist, Elise, breezed in. "Sorry, girls. Ms. Goode's daughter was in an accident earlier and she won't be coming in today. Class is canceled."

The class tried to look disappointed; they were supposed to live, breathe, and eat dance, but sometimes having a break from practice that lasted three hours every night was a welcome change. Emma blew out a breath, smiling as the girls filed back into the locker room to change back into their street clothes. Hallie, ever graceful in her movements and beautiful in a way Emma could never understand, pulled a skirt over her muscled legs. "So, some of the girls and I were talking- you know, before you decided to make your grand appearance- and we were going out for pizza after class. Interested?"

Emma paused as she pulled a warm sweater over her head. She was hungry- no she wasn't. She'd had a cup of coffee this morning, and had half an apple at lunch. She wasn't hungry, no matter how delicious pizza sounded. She still needed to drop four pounds to reach her goal weight. No pizza. She was strong.

"Oh, I can't. My mom's making dinner, and I promised to be home in time. She'd kill me if I wasn't."

"Okay. So are things cooling down between your parents then?"

Emma shrugged her thin shoulders as she tugged her hair out of her bun. "I guess. My dad's still not home as often, but they're both trying, I think. At least Mom is. It's- it's kind of sad to watch, honestly. She's getting desperate."

Hallie reached out and grabbed her friend's hand, ignoring how cold her skin was. "I'm sorry, kid. I'm always here, Ems. You can always call."

"I know, Hal. Worst best friend ever."

Barking out a laugh, the blonde swung her gym bag over shoulder. "Yeah, you suck too."

Emma was soon the last girl in the room. She stood there, in her tights and sweater, staring at her reflection in the full length mirror. Her hands trembling, she pulled the sweater off, leaving her shivering in her leotard. Through the thin material, every bone from her clavicle to her pelvis was visible. They were sharp, looking as if they could simply rip through the thin fabric. She ran her fingers over her ribs, feeling every dip in between. She turned around and looked over her shoulder, arching her back. Every knot in her vertebrae strained against her skin. She was emaciated looking; even with her blind eyes she could see that. But there was still fat, disgusting fat to grab on her belly, and the skin on her inner thighs still danced when she moved, no matter how many times she ran or how many times she leapt across the dance floor. There was still room for improvement.

Moving her critical eyes to her face, Emma's mood only darkened. Her cheekbones stretched against her skin, creating deep hollows in her sallow, greasy skin. Her hair at her temples was thinning; her thick dark hair that had always marked her as a Shepherd. Her blue green eyes marked her as her mother's daughter, but she was a Shepherd, through and through. Her older sister, Annie, had inherited the Montgomery genes: Flaming, gorgeous red hair and a temper to match. God, Emma missed her. Annie was studying abroad in England, much to their mother's dismay. She loved Hallie but Annie was her true best friend. She would see how sick her baby sister was. She would stop her from hurting herself, and would help her feel better. She needed her.

Shaking her head, Emma pulled her black sweater on again, and the warm skirt of her uniform. She peeled the tape off her battered feet before tucking them into wool socks and converse. As she left her second home, Emma bitterly wished the lie she'd fed Hal was true. She'd be lucky if either of her parents would even come home tonight. Another reason she missed her sister. The only good part of her parents being so distracted with work and ignoring each other was that there was no focus on Emma- or if she ate dinner. Humming to herself as she walked the six blocks home, the brunette wondered if Annie would do something about their parent's behavior. She was the brave, bold one; she had no trouble confronting those who needed confronting. Emma, on the other hand, was happy to let other people do the talking while she stood in the back ground.

Maybe she should at least try something, anything for them to remember that they once loved each other madly. They did still, Emma knew. She saw it in the way her mother waited up every night she was home for her father, or the way she always put his favorite mug out on the counter every night, waiting to be filled the next morning. They were little things, but they were filled with desperation to be noticed. Her father's signs were a little more subtle, things he'd done for so long he probably didn't even realize he was doing them. Letting the scruff on his face grow out because he knew she liked it, and playing their song in the morning while they got ready, singing along as he worked his hair into effortless looking, handsome waves. The signs of being married and once being happy.

Her front door was soon in front of her face, and Emma couldn't shake the feeling that being home before the sun set was wrong, like she was forgetting something important. Tugging off her coat her mother insisted she wear this morning and hanging it on a hook, the teenager called out, "Hello? Anybody home?"

When she was answered with heavy silence, Emma shrugged and headed upstairs to her room. She didn't often have a night not loaded down with homework, but tonight she only had to read a few chapters from The Great Gatsby. Changing clothes for the third time that afternoon, she pulled on a blue cami tank top and grey sweatpants before digging for her phone. She had no unread messages, which was nothing new, before sending both of her parents a text that she was home. Neither replied, which again, was nothing new. They always insisted on their daughters having their phones on them at all times for safety reasons, but rarely answered their own. Having nothing else to do, Emma read. And read. She read until she finished the book before rolling over and reading the next one waiting on her shelf. She could forget the pangs of hunger and weakness echoing in her stomach when she read.

Annie had never been that interested in read growing up, focusing more on math and science in school. They differed in more than just looks, despite how close they were. Emma's fiery sister ran track, and was offered scholarships to many different schools for her speed, but she declined them all, and opted to go to Oxford University for their brilliant science program. Her essay and accolades in high school got her accepted to the prestigious foreign university, and had taken her from her sister, who desperately hid how badly she didn't want her to go behind her immense pride. She'd left in July, and very little contact had been made sense, not for lack of trying. But four months with only three phone calls and a handful of emails were not enough after fifteen years of roommates. Emma hadn't realized she'd fallen asleep until she heard the door slam shut behind someone. She jerked up, eyes hazy. The sound of heels on hardwood announced her mother after five hours of being alone. It was only nine, which for a surgeon was basically five. Suddenly fizzing with excitement, Emma pulled on an oversized cardigan as she hurried downstairs. Her mother was already in the kitchen, digging in the fridge.

"Mom!"

The red head startled at the sound of her name but smiled brightly at the sight of her daughter. "Em, I didn't know you were home," She moved away from the light of the fridge to hug her daughter. "Hey, sweetheart. I missed you today."

Emma hugged her back tightly, realizing just how much she missed her. "Well, if you ever checked your phone, you would know I was home."

Pulling away, Addison laughed mockingly. "Ha ha. So why aren't you out with your friends after practice?"

"Class was cancelled and I had a lot of homework I needed to get to. I decided not to go."

"Okay," Going back to hunting in the fridge, her mother asked, "Did you already eat?"

Emma froze; glad her mother was turned around. But, the lie was reliable and ready on her tongue. "Yes. I wasn't all that hungry so I made a sandwich and some chips."

Sighing, Addison gave up and closed the door. "Looks like I'm having that too. I meant to get off early and go grocery shopping, but obviously that didn't happen," She looked up hopefully for a second. "Have you heard from your dad? Will he be home tonight?"

Shrugging, Emma answered in a forced light tone. "I haven't heard from him, but that doesn't mean he won't be home. I didn't hear from you either."

Even with her convincing forced tone, her mother deflated before eyes. "Yeah. I'm sure he'll be home later. It is early. Well, not for normal people standards, I suppose."

"Mom, why don't you just order take out? You know that's what you really want." Emma tossed their various collections of takeout menus on the island in the middle of the kitchen. Addison smiled as she shifted through them, searching for her favorite Indian place. She dialed the number quickly, asking her daughter if she wanted anything as she did so. She didn't frown or make any notice that her daughter was once again forgoing food.

Emma wandered back upstairs and took a quick shower, standing under the spray of water until the steam filled the bathroom and fogged up the mirror so she couldn't see her reflection. She pulled on the clothes she'd had on previously, moving lightly down the stairs again to the spicy aroma of Indian food. Her weak and betraying stomach growled, and she clapped her arm around it tightly, as if that could stifle it. Thankfully, her mother was enjoying her dinner too much to notice.

Emma stuck her head in her parent's office, half expecting her dad to be sitting at his desk. The room was disappointingly dark. Sighing, the teen trudged into the living room, where her mom sat with her dinner and a surprisingly large glass of red wine. Emma plopped down beside her on the couch, a puff of air exploding out of her body. Addison looked sideways at her, mouth full. "Long day there, Em?"

"Oh yeah. I had to deal with patients complaining all day, standing on my feet for hours in the OR, and I didn't even mention my colleagues and all of their sappy lives. Oh wait, that was your day."

Reaching over Addison attempted to tickle her daughter, but before she could graze her fingers over her side, Emma jerked away; afraid she would feel how disgusting she was. But again, she didn't truly notice. "You're a funny, funny girl. You get that from me, right?"

"I always thought she got it from me."

The unexpected voice made both of them jump. Emma smiled widely at the sight of her disheveled father at the doorway. She leapt up, ignoring the black spots that danced across her vision. She threw her skinny arms around his neck, squeezing him tightly. "Dad!"

"Hey, kiddo. How was your day?"

"Better now that both of you are home." At her comment, Derek's eyes flicked to his awaiting wife, who watched him unabashedly. As soon as their eyes met, she smiled as wide as her daughter, but her happiness was not returned.

His smile returned was fake, but what stung more was that he thought she wouldn't be able to tell. Arms still around his daughter, Derek said, "Did you have a good day, too?"

Addison tried to ignore the ever-growing pain in her heart and tried to pretend that everything was fine for her daughters. "It was fine. Long. A lot of patients."

Emma glanced between them, almost choking on the awkward, heavy air filling the room. She leaned into her dad's chest again and announced, "Well, I think I'm going to bed. Good night, guys. I love you."

She looped her arms around her mother, letting her squeeze her for an extra moment. "Good night, Mom. I love you."

Her mother held her arms for a moment, palm caressing her face. "I love you too, baby. Get a good night's sleep, okay? You're looking a little pale."

Emma nodded and slipped out of the tense room, leaving her parents alone. Addison cleared her throat awkwardly, and gestured to the takeout containers on the coffee table. "I ordered extra, if you're hungry."

Avoiding her eyes, Derek murmured, "No thanks. I ate before I left the hospital. I'm gonna take a shower before I go to bed."

Before his foot hit the first step, Addison gave it one last desperate try. "Derek, please. Talk to me."

Barely sparing her a glance, her once loving husband kept going. "Not now, Addie. I'm tired."

Addison's eyes fluttered shut as she heard their bedroom door slam shut. When she opened them, she was surprised to find tears escaping down her cheeks. She sat on the couch, defeated. Absentmindedly, she twisted her wedding ring on her finger, wondering when it stopped holding any meaning.

Upstairs, her youngest daughter stared out her window, wondering when she was going to feel human again.