The first thing Bella noticed as she turned the corner to her street was that there was a strange car on the driveway. It looked expensive but understated; certainly not like the cars that usually parked on this quiet street of suburban Chicago, where SUVs and sensible sedans were the norm. The second thing she noticed as she got closer was the sticker with a blue B on the back bumper, which meant that the visitor was a Barden Bella.

She felt her heart rate quicken for a second before her rational side won out. She knew it was stupid to expect that the Bella that was currently visiting was someone other than the usual mix of annoyingly loud women.

She plodded up the front steps, taking a deep breath before opening the door and walking inside. "Ma, I'm home!"

"Great! You're here." Stacie skipped out of the kitchen and gave her a quick side hug as a greeting. "Can you check the pasta in the stove?"

"I'm perfectly capable of watching water boil!" Someone Bella identified as Beca yelled from the kitchen.

Stacie was already halfway up the stairs and gave Bella a pointed look. "Please?"

Bella nodded, returning her mom's smile and watching her walk the rest of the way up. Once she was out of sight, she turned to toe off her shoes, placing them next to the hall closet and hanging her jacket inside.

She was relieved it was Beca and not one of the others, at least Beca was cool. If cool was a word she could use to describe the people her mom met through her college a capella group.

She tried not to think too much about the fact that she was named after said lame a capella group.

"Hey," Bella called as she entered the kitchen.

Beca peeled her eyes off the pot and smiled at the girl. "Hey, Bells." She gave the pot a weary look and frowned. "You don't have to watch me."

Bella shrugged, hopping onto a stool across the kitchen island where she could watch the pot without hovering around Beca. She took her phone out, intent on killing time scrolling through social media while she waited for her mom to come back.

"How's school?" Beca asked.

Bella shrugged again, not looking up from her phone. "It's fine."

She could feel Beca watching her and she looked up, arching an eyebrow and making her look away awkwardly. She thought about asking Beca about her latest album in an attempt to fill the silence, if only so Beca didn't feel forced to do it.

"Oh!" Beca seemed to remember something and looked back. "Have you seen Aubrey yet?"

The racing in her heart she felt when she saw the car on the driveway came back. "Aubrey?"

"Yeah, I figured you'd be the first stop after she moved back."

"She's back?" Bella asked softly. She swallowed, her heart thumping against her throat. Aubrey was back and she hadn't tried to contact her. "When did she-"

She shook her head. She could feel tears prickling at her eyes despite her best attempts to keep them at bay, one of them rolling down her cheek making her wipe her face angrily. She thought she was over this. It had been years since she'd cried about Aubrey leaving them. Leaving her.

"Bella?" She felt Beca next to her, her hand reaching out towards her arm.

Bella jumped off the stool and backed away. "I'm fine." She chuckled, annoyed at herself for getting upset. "It's fine, I'm not a kid anymore. I don't need my-" The word mom got stuck on the back of her throat. "I don't need her."

"Bella, I'm sorry." Beca bit her lower lip worriedly. Bella could tell she was trying to think of something to say but coming up empty.

She shook her head. "It's fine, really." She wiped at her cheek again and went to the stove, stirring the pasta and forcing herself to focus on the boiling water instead of the pain in her chest. "I'm sure she's busy."

"Maybe she's worried your mom still doesn't want her talking to you."

Bella stirred the pasta, taking a few seconds to digest what Beca had said. She frowned, turning to Beca. "What do you mean still?"

Beca's eyes widened. "What?"

"You said still doesn't want her talking to me. Still." She shook her head confused. "She didn't want Aubrey to talk to me?" She thought back to the last few times she'd asked her mom about Aubrey, how she'd responded. "Mom!"

"Bella, I-" Beca looked full on panicked now.

"Mom!" Bella yelled louder, ignoring Beca.

"What? I'm coming." Stacie entered the kitchen, looking at the stove worriedly and then turning towards Bella and Beca. "Where's the fire?"

"Stace, I-" Beca started.

"Did you tell Aubrey she couldn't talk to me?" Bella blurted out.

Stacie frowned, looking between Bella and Beca for a few seconds and then moving to turn off the stove. "It wasn't like that."

"How was it?"

"I didn't want you to feel like she was only half there."

"So you made her not be there at all? What the fuck, mom?"

"Hey, language." Stacie glared at her.

"No, you have to be fucking kidding me!" Bella threw her arms up. "I thought she left me!"

"She basically did!" Stacie said loudly. She stopped, took a deep breath, and tried again. "It was for the best."

"You don't get to decide that!" Bella's voice cracked.

"I do, I'm your mom." Stacie said softly and shook her head. "I'm sorry, I really am, but I was just trying to protect you."

"I can't believe you did that." She pushed past her and ran up to her room, not able to hold the tears back anymore.

She slammed the door closed, letting out a sob now that she was alone. She thought of all the times she'd considered reaching out to Aubrey but hadn't because she figured Aubrey didn't care, of all the birthdays she'd hoped for a call or a card and ended up disappointed. She'd lived almost half her life thinking Aubrey didn't want to talk to her or see her, wondering what she'd done wrong, but it had been her mom.

She could look for her now. Ask her in person why she'd left, why she'd never called.

She could hear her mom arguing with Beca downstairs. If they were still in the kitchen, she'd be able to sneak out without them noticing.

She made up her mind, grabbing a backpack and throwing in a few essentials. She didn't know if this would go horribly wrong, maybe she'd be disappointed for the millionth time in her life, but she needed to know the truth.

She tiptoed down the stairs, grabbed her jacket and shoes and hurried outside, waiting until the door clicked softly behind her to bend down and put on her shoes. With one last look at the house, she jogged down the street to the bus stop, her heart hammering in her chest.

She didn't know where exactly she was heading, but she knew who to ask. And then… Then maybe everything would be right again.