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Chapter 2

Sunday; Eve of the elections.

...

Frankie woke up to the sun shining on her face. She must have forgotten to close the blinds, she thought in the drowsiness between sleep and wake. She had vague memories of watching Gossip Girl until her eyes cried for some sleep, but she couldn't recall switching the laptop off, or placing it away. The night before. Jeez. Suddenly all the memories came crashing back on her, and she had to shut her eyes closed once again and take a deep breath to keep it together. She hadn't even properly woken up, yet, and she was already feeling exhausted.

She felt unusually warm, as well, and strangely cramped, and that's when she realized that both her brothers were still sleeping in her bed. She turned her head slightly to her sides, sleepy eyes taking in the scene, and she smiled to herself at the sight of their presence. They looked so peaceful. On her left, Miles was cuddled up on his side, his arms trapped in the little space between them; his head was so close to hers that his hair lightly brushed on her forehead, as she turned towards him. She could feel him breathing, warm air gently stroking on her bare shoulder every time he exhaled. On her right, Hunter was a unique mess of limbs and covers, and the sight of her twin all wrapped up in the floral print of her comforter almost made her giggle. He had turned on his stomach, during the night, and he was taking up a significant portion of the mattress, for someone so skinny. His right arm was outstretched, protectively wrapped around her waist, while his forehead rested by her shoulder, his face buried in the sheets underneath her.

She honestly didn't remember ever sleeping with both her brothers. She had shared the bed with Hunter countless times, growing up, even though not so much in recent times. And she had probably fallen asleep in between them on the backseat of the car, in a few occasions, but this was different. Yesterday had been scary, and painful, and she had felt frightened and hurt; but the sight of the two of them, watching over her in their sleep; the memories of how sweet and comforting they had been to her; waking up to their warm bodies next to hers, it truly made her feel better. Almost… at peace. She took in the feeling, while it lasted. Soon they would all wake up, and then they'll have to get out of her room, eventually, and face their parents. Again. Frankie didn't want to think about it, now. She closed her eyes, wishing to be able to keep it all out for a little longer. She concentrated on the regular rhythm of her brothers' breathing, and she lingered in the feeling she felt right now. She was home. She was safe. She was loved. And God, she loved them both, so much.

Hunter was the next one to wake up, a little while later. He turned around, and stretched his arms, before stopping in mid-air as he realized where he was, and the memories of the night before resurfaced. Frankie couldn't suppress a smile, at the sight of his disoriented face.

"Good morning!" She whispered, rolling gently towards him.

"Hey," he replied, sleepy voice and a genuine smile, "How are you feeling?"

"I'm okay. I've slept really well. Thank you for staying!"

His smile widened, as he let himself fall back on the pillows. Their whispering voices, or maybe the movement on the mattress, ended up waking Miles shortly after. He rolled on his back, scratching his eyes and stretching his cramped arms, before turning back towards them with a sleepy smile.

"Morning, sunshines," he mumbled as he yawned, resting his head on his folded arm.

She sat up, and she stretched to check the time on the clock on her bedside table. 8:24 a.m. They hadn't slept that much, after all – although she wasn't sure what time it was, when they had finally collapsed – but their parents were for sure up already. Her spirit sank a little, at the thought of their parents, the memory of her dad's hurtful words still too fresh. She inhaled deeply, her eyes closed. She felt her brothers moving, sitting up next to her, and as she opened her eyes again she took in the sight of their sleepy heads, messy hair and all. Her own hair was probably a picture, as well, since she hadn't even cared to blow dry it, the night before. Oh, well.

"So… I guess we should get up, and face the family, uh?" She asked, her cheerful voice a vain attempt to hide her feelings about it. In response, her brothers fell back on the pillows with an almost identical groan, Miles staring at the ceiling while Hunter lifted an arm to hide his head beneath it. She stroked them gently on their bellies, with a teasing smile. "Come on, we'll have to, sooner or later. Better get it over with, right?"

"Right…" was the unconvinced reply from Hunter. Both boys sat up, though, looking tired, and a bit defeated. It was going to be a hell of a day…

...

It was around 9:00 a.m. by the time they came down, washed up and dressed. The breakfast table was set up on the patio, but there was no sight of their parents. Normally their dad made a point of taking Sundays off, but with the polls opening tomorrow he was probably hiding somewhere with his campaign staff. None of the kids were missing him, to be completely honest. As they sat down and grabbed some juice, however, their mother appeared, dressed and made up, and took a seat with them.

"Good morning, peanuts!" She greeted in a cheerful tone.

This was typical Hollingsworth protocol, they'd seen it countless times: ignore the ugly fighting of the night before, and act like absolutely nothing wrong was going on. They were all used to it, by now, but frankly they really couldn't be bothered to play along with the charade, this time. Their mother didn't seem to mind the silence, though, and she sipped her coffee absentmindedly, flicking through some notes for the post-elections party.

As she took her first bite of croissant, Frankie's phone buzzed in her pocket. It was Winston, just a quick text:

Seems like Zoё came through. Check this.

A link followed, and as she clicked on it she was redirected to the local edition of the newspaper. 'Degrassi Nudes Mistress Revealed', the headline titled, 'The Mastermind Behind It A Grade 10 Student Of The Community School'. Frankie couldn't help but let out a sigh of relief, scrolling down the article. Zoё's name was never mentioned, for privacy reasons, but that 'Grade 10' attribute was enough to clear her from the ordeal. She turned towards her brothers, her phone handed out, but her mother stopped her in her tracks:

"Frankie, dear, no phone at the table, please. Put it down."

She didn't have time to objects, as her father chose that moment to walk up to them, followed closely by Andrea, his campaign manager.

"Good morning, family!" he started, cheerfully, placing a paper on the table in front of them. "Excellent news came in, turns out that a culprit was named for that scandal at school. Frankie, darling, this looks especially bright for you."

"We were thinking of releasing a statement, our staff is already drafting it," Andrea intervened. "Just to distance ourselves from the rumours in a definitive manner."

"Absolutely." Their dad agreed. "We should resume the tough line we discussed at first, highlight the damage that was done to our family, and to my daughter especially. Frankie, what do you think, would you like to help us with the draft? We will need you for the picture, of course, before the press release."

Frankie stared at her father without a word, a look of disbelief in her eyes. His casual tone was incredible, she thought. How could he just walk in like this, like nothing happened? She jumped up on her feet, her pain and anger clearly spelled out on her face, and then she just left. Miles and Hunter followed suit, without a sound. Even their mother looked startled, for a second.

She ran up the stairs, straight to her room, slamming the door angrily behind her. Miles and Hunter reopened it right away, quietly following her inside. The concern was visible on their face, but Frankie barely noticed it. She was fuming.

"How could he do that?!" She spat out, hands in her hair, pacing up and down the room.

"Franks… calm down…" Hunter tried, an arm stretched towards her.

"Calm down?!" she almost attacked him, "He waltzed in like nothing happened! How could he talk to me like that? How? Like I would ever want to work on his stupid statement, after he demanded I take all the blame!"

She wasn't making any sense, she knew it, the rage building up inside her with every word she yelled. She kicked an innocent chair that was in her way, but it didn't make her feel any better.

"Hey…" Miles chipped in, his voice soft and urgent at the same time. He walked up behind her and she felt his hands gently grabbing her trembling shoulders. He held her in place, resisting her fight, and spoke quietly. "You're right, Frankenstein. But it's not Hunter's fault…"

And at his words, she lost it. She raised her eyes towards Hunter, who indeed looked hurt from her yelling at him, and she felt awful for that. Her stomach ached, and she could feel the tears building up, ready to come down. She leaned back into Miles's arms, shaking.

"I'm sorry…" she whispered feebly, looking pleadingly at her twin. He shrugged in response, a silent It's okay on his face.

Miles wrapped her in his arms, his head resting on top of hers. She turned her face to hide her tears from Hunter, but a loud sob betrayed her. She had always been a crier, Frankie, but she honestly couldn't remember ever crying as much as in the past twenty-four hours. Miles kept holding her, gently stroking her arms for comfort.

"I know, it sucks," he whispered in her ears. "But you'll be okay, I promise."

And she really wanted to believe him, she really did. But this wasn't a fight with a friend at school, something you knew you would get over, eventually. This was her dad. How can anything be okay, when your own dad doesn't even see you as a person who has feelings? She felt fragile and small in a way she never had before. She felt hopeless.

Miles squeezed her gently, and that reminded her that at least she wasn't alone. Her brother turned her around to face him, and slowly wiped the tears away from her cheeks. He placed a soft kiss on her forehead, warm hands holding her face. She leaned in towards his chest and let him cuddle her, too overwhelmed to do anything else.

"We're going out, okay?" he proposed a second later, pulling back to look at her. "I'll take you wherever you want, shopping, whatever. We can have lunch somewhere nice in town. We need to get out of here, trust me."

She turned around, searching for Hunter. Her twin was still leaning against the door, where he had been the whole time. He sent her a little crooked smile, nodding encouragingly.

"Sounds good," he conceded.

Frankie took a deep breath. She didn't feel like going out, to be completely fair, but she didn't feel like staying home either. Miles was probably right, they needed to get out of the mansion. The mere idea of her father, downstairs, made her stomach ache again, like it was knotted up.

"Yeah, okay," she agreed, at last. "Let's go."

...

It had been a nice morning out. The sun was shining, the weather perfect, so they had decided to head for the beach. They had spent a few hours there, not doing much, really, and they had had lunch at a Fish & Chips terrace on the lake. On the way back home, Frankie had picked up a stack of magazines that she claimed would get her through the afternoon, and both her brothers had smiled at her enthusiasm for something that small.

Back home, they had headed straight to their rooms, not really wishing to run into their parents. They all felt like they needed some alone-time, as well; as much as they had wanted to be physically close, and take care of each other, they also weren't used to be constantly watched over.
As he squeezed her hand before letting her go, Miles was happy to see Frankie was way more relaxed, finally, and back to her usual cheerful self. That was the thing, with Frankie: she tended to react really strongly to everything, but her moods were able to change from one end of the spectrum to the other in a matter of seconds. When something upset her, or hurt her, she felt absolutely desperate, and she really was no good at hiding it, unlike Hunter or Miles; but when whatever had triggered her was over, or away from her sight, she was quick to recover, let someone comfort her, and embrace the good sides of life again. Miles thought it must be exhausting, to be like Frankie, constantly letting your emotions overcome you. At the same time, he envied her recovery time, as for him it was unheard of. Yes, when he was upset he rarely let it completely throw him off tracks and stop functioning, but then it took him days, sometimes weeks, to actually feel better about it.

Still, he was glad his sister was the way she was, at least he always knew how to handle her. Seeing her in one of her 'down' moments was awful, and it hurt like hell, but it generally never lasted long. Miles kept repeating this to himself, as he gathered the will to do what he had to. He had waited way longer than he should have, he knew that, but now it was time to own up to what he had done. He owed it to everyone, really, and especially to Frankie. He just couldn't bring it on himself to make her feel hurt, again, after all she'd been through in the past few days, and especially now that she was smiling again. But he knew he had to, he couldn't keep hiding this from her, it would make him feel sick.

Knowing that it was the right thing to do didn't make it any easier, though, and Miles found himself pacing nervously outside of his mother's study for ages, short of courage to walk in. He had debated whether to come clean just to her, or to both his parents together. The idea of facing his father alone was out of question, as after the recent outbursts of violence Miles didn't feel at ease at all, being locked in a room with him. Confessing it only to his mother was tempting, but then he knew that his dad would get involved, and it would probably be worse, so he concluded that telling them together was his best bet. He could hear his parents' voices behind the closed door, and he knew they were alone, as the campaign staff was not allowed in this part of the house. It was his best shot at privacy, now or never.

He felt confident enough that his father would not dare to hit him, in front of his mum, but still his heart raced like crazy in his chest, as he walked closer to the door. Still, even if his dad went all ballistic on him, maybe he deserved it, this time. After all, this was no small prank to confess to: he had done something incredibly stupid, and put the lives of a lot of people in danger – including Frankie's. Gathering his strength, and trembling as the nervous wreck he was, he finally knocked weakly on the door, before opening it and rolling inside.

"Mum… Dad… I have to tell you something."

His parents interrupted their talks, turning around to face him, surprised. And Miles's heart sank, because he definitely didn't have what he needed to do this. But he had to, he knew that. Bracing himself, he stared straight into his mother's eyes and started talking, quietly. Word after word, he saw her face drop, her eyes wide in shock.

The silence that followed was almost unbearable, to the point Miles wished they would start yelling at him already. Eventually, his father gestured helplessly at him, before finally finding his words.

"Are you kidding me?" he burst out, disbelief in his tone. "Are you children timing these little stunts of yours, to be sure to ruin every last second of this goddamn campaign?!"

"Miles," his mother started, addressing her agitated husband, "That is hardly the point though, right? I mean, what were you thinking?" This was for him, and the way she looked at him froze the blood in his veins. "Your sister was trapped in the school, how could you do that?!"

"It was an accident!" He pleaded, desperate for them to believe him.

"So, enlighten us, how did you accidentally light up your school?" his father's furious voice interjected. "Again, might I add?"

Miles felt the familiar, crippling anxiety building up inside him. God, he hated his father, hated him, he could barely stand the sight of him. Yet, part of him, deep inside, had spent the last twenty-four hours torturing himself, using words surprisingly similar. Because he had started the fire, he had put his sister in danger – and no, he couldn't even bring himself to think of what could have happened. And the guilt was eating him alive.

His mum interrupted his misery, her phone already in her hands and a practical tone to her voice. "I have to call the school, set a meeting with Mr. Simpson as soon as possible. Go get ready, now, we'll leave immediately. Come on, Miles!"

He raised his eyes to hers, feeling completely defeated.

"I just… have to do something, first," he pleaded, gaining himself an exasperated look from his father.

"What could you possibly have to do right now that is more important than this?!" he spat out, sardonic, almost challenging him.

"I have to tell Frankie." He stated, blankly.

Not even his parents seemed able to respond to that.

...

He stared at Frankie's door for a good few minutes, before finding the nerve to knock. He felt sick in his stomach, to be completely honest, he really wasn't ready to do this. But did he have a choice? Of course he didn't. He definitely didn't want her to find out from someone else, and he was about to go and make a potentially public admission at school. He owed her the honesty, at least. Gathering every ounce of strength he didn't have, he stepped into his sister's room, to find her lounging on her bed with a magazine.

"Miles!" she greeted, getting up to welcome him in. "Is everything okay?"

Her voice sounded vaguely surprised. After all, they had just agreed to go their separate ways for a bit. She looked good, he thought, almost cheerful, the summery floral dress she wore bringing out her sun-kissed skin from the morning out. The few hours they had just spent at the beach almost felt like another life, right now. He literally dreaded what he had to do, he knew she would not look this happy and relaxed after the talk they were about to have. But he had to do it, there was no way out.

"Franks, I've just… talked… to Mum and Dad," he started, vague enough.

"About what?" she asked, a slight concern suddenly appearing on her face at the mention of their parents. When he didn't reply, she locked her eyes in his, inviting him to go on.

"…Sit down. I need to tell you something important."

Frankie looked puzzled, but did as he asked, and sat down cross-legged on her bed. He mimicked her, taking a seat by her side. God, was this hard. Miles kept looking at her, trying to start, and then moving his eyes away, suddenly regretting it.

"Miles… he didn't hurt you again, did he?" she asked, worrying for the worse.

"What?" he asked, puzzled. "Gosh, no- Franks, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to- It's nothing like that."

"Then what is it?"

He opened his mouth to start, but nothing came out. He looked straight at her, helpless.

"What are you scared of?" asked Frankie, not understanding. And how could she?

He hesitated, moving his eyes away from hers.

"I'm just afraid… that you won't look at me the same way, after I tell you."

"That's impossible," she reassured him, confident.

"I would wait until you hear it, if I were you…" He mumbled, moving his eyes away from her, again.

With a loud sigh, he reached back to his pocket, and handed her the sealed envelope he had carried with him.

"What is this?" asked Frankie, looking puzzled.

"A goodbye letter."

"You're leaving?" she questioned, a hint of panic in her voice.

"No, I… I was about to, yesterday. I came to school to give this to you and Hunter, and say goodbye." She looked confused, her eyes moving from the letter, to him, back and forth.

This wasn't going to get any easier, ever. So he locked his eyes firmly on her comforter, braced himself, and started talking, in a low, detached voice. He told her everything, starting from the incident with their father and Hunter: how lost and hopeless their mum had made him feel when she hadn't believed him; how he had tried to talk to their dad, just to get belittled and derided, again; how he had come to school, looking for them, decided to take off. The rage building up inside him, at the sight of their father's smiling face printed on all of those damned flyers for the renewal project, and how he had felt the urge to destroy them, erase them.

And then he stopped, unable to continue. He raised his eyes meaningfully to Frankie, who suddenly moved back from him. Her mouth was open, looking for words, her eyes wide and hurt. Miles thought he had never felt this bad in his entire life.

"Are you saying…?" she hesitated.

"It was me. I started the fire," he whispered, and he quickly looked away, unable to face her, as she brought a hand to her face. "I'm so sorry, Franks. I never meant for it to happen…"

He really needed her to say something. He selfishly hoped she would forgive him, but he would have taken anything else, her shouting, crying, insulting him. None of it came, she stayed quiet, frozen in her place. He didn't dare to look at her, as he knew he would have to face her tears. Hurt, again, because of him. He needed more time, to let her process it, to talk things through, to make up. But time was a luxury he didn't have at the moment, as he heard their parents opening the front door, downstairs.

"I… I have to go, Franks," he said, awkwardly breaking the silence. "I have a meeting with Mr. Simpson."

He waited one more second, reluctant to go, but when he realized that she wouldn't speak to him, he just resigned to leave her alone. He finally shot her a quick glance, and found her still sitting where he had seen her last, not a single muscle moving.

He wouldn't believe it possible, but this was even worse than he had ever imagined it would be.

...

The ride back from school in the car was filled with tense silence. As soon as they parked in the driveway, his father walked out slamming the door behind him, and he marched inside the house without looking back. Miles and his mum followed, but without any trace of the same fury. His mother actually looked more tired than mad, Miles thought, as he hesitated outside the car, not really knowing what to do with himself. She gave him nothing but a quick glance, as she headed towards the door at a steady pace.

"I'm sorry, Mum!" he pleaded, stopping her in her tracks. "I really am," he continued, as she turned around to face him.

Her expression softened, as she saw the anguish on his face.

"Well, it's over, now," she said gently, covering the few steps that separated them. "You were very, very lucky that no-one got hurt, Miles. I hope you realise that."

Miles felt his chest tighten, and the uncomfortable sting of hot tears collecting at the corners of his eyes. As he always did, he focused on pushing them back, a well-oiled machine at that. His mother placed a soft hand on his arm, gently squeezing him for comfort. And he closed his eyes, and cherished the feeling of her brief touch, exhaling his guilt. A moment later she was gone, disappeared inside the house. He was left alone.

He retreated to his room, collapsing on his bed straight away. Staring at the ceiling, he tried to empty his mind, shutting away the wreckage that had been building up in there since the day before. Facing his parents, and then the principal, had been incredibly draining, but he did feel better, now that he had owned up to his mistake. His father despised him, his disappointment clearly showing, but there was nothing new there. And his mum had been worried, and astounded, more than angry, he could see that. Frankie was the one who really concerned him, as he didn't know what to expect. She had obviously been hurt by the truth, as he had anticipated, but her reaction left him not knowing what would come next. And then there was Hunter. Miles had been a real coward, there, and he knew it – he just hadn't been able to tell him in person. He was likely to know, by now, of which he was glad. Miles endangering their sister was probably the worst thing he could ever do to Hunter, and he really wasn't in a hurry to face him. Life sucked, seriously.

A gentle knock on his door pulled him out of his miserable thoughts. He sat up on his bed as his sister peeped through the door.

"Can I come in?" she asked, quietly.

Miles nodded his permission, turning around to face her as she leaned against his desk, her arms crossed over her chest.

"How did it go?" she asked, her face void of emotions.

He shrugged, lowering his gaze.

"I've got community service. Dad will pay for the damages, and they agreed to keep it quiet."

Frankie nodded, a sigh escaping from her.

"So… he bailed you out?"

He nodded, confirming. For once, he couldn't read her tone. Was she pleased he hadn't been kicked out? Was she disappointed, did she hope for a harsher punishment for what he had done? As relieved as he was to not have to face criminal charges or expulsion, Miles himself thought he deserved more than what he got. But Mr. Simpson seemed to believe in his good intentions. He had looked at him like he could see right through him, like he could tell how horrified he was by what he had done, by what could have happened.

Frankie interrupted his train of thoughts, as she moved closer to sit down on his bed. She turned around to face him and gave him a knowing look, one that – again – he didn't really understand.

"I've talked to Hunter," she informed him.

Miles flinched uncomfortably at her words. Whatever was about to come, it wouldn't be nice.

"How did he take it?" he asked anyway.

"He wanted to kill you, so, not well."

Her tone of voice sounded lighter than her words, but Miles didn't dare to look at her, afraid of what he would see.

"We've read your letter," she added, softly.

Again, he didn't reply, not knowing what to say. He had written that letter at his lowest point, and he had wanted her to have it so she could understand why he'd done something so careless. That didn't overcome the fact that this was the most vulnerable he had ever let himself be in front of them, and he was honestly quite scared of what she would say next. He didn't normally let people come this close to him, not even his siblings.

"Miles, whatever Dad told you, to justify what he did to you… it wasn't true," she continued, as he stayed quiet. "You're not bad for us, you're not ruining our family. That's just insane!"

He looked up briefly to her, and saw some genuine concern in her eyes. He knew it himself that he shouldn't let his father's remarks get to him, by now; still, every time, he couldn't help thinking that maybe he was right.

"Franks… I burnt our school down. With you in it!" he whispered, barely audible. "Obviously I am bad for you…"

"Miles… you didn't do it on purpose..." she remarked, softly. "Yes, it was scary, and who knows what could have happened but… it was an accident. Listen to me… It was an accident! It could have happened to anyone. I wasn't even supposed to be in that room, nobody was, you couldn't have known. And even if you did, I know you weren't trying to set the building on fire…"

"Stop, Franks… I…"

"Look at me." Reluctantly, he did as he was asked. His sister's gentle eyes were scrutinizing him, a sense of urgency in her. "It wasn't your fault. It happened, it was a terrible accident, nobody got hurt. Cut yourself some slack, Miles, please…"

"You could have died." He stressed, a broken whisper.

"But I didn't." She sounded definitive, her brown eyes looking softly at his. "I'm sorry for how I reacted, earlier. I didn't mean to make you feel guilty, I was just… in shock, I guess."

His eyes hitched uncomfortably, as he forced himself to face her. She was being kind, and he didn't deserve it. Frankie gave him a little smile, and suddenly he felt overwhelmed by it all, by her forgiveness. She had forgiven him, unlikely as it might sound. She gave him a little caress on his cheek, almost knowing what was going on inside his head, and then leaned in and wrapped her arms around him. He hugged her back, hiding his face in her neck, taking in the comfort he was given. She stroked him soothingly on the back of his neck, and Miles felt more relieved than he thought he should, the guilt almost dissipating into Frankie's generous gestures.

"And yes, Hunter got over it, by the way. He doesn't want to kill you anymore," she clarified as she pulled back, shoving him slightly on the side with a little Frankie smile. This made him chuckle, despite his best intention. God, he loved her. He just hoped she knew.

...

That evening, the atmosphere was tense, at the dinner table. There were little more than twelve hours left, before the polls opened in the morning, and both their parents could hardly hide their nerves. Andrea and some other staff had been hovering around the house for most of the day, but they had finally left an hour earlier, leaving behind a pile of notes for the photo-op in the morning and the press conference prep that would follow. The kids had tried to sneak out of the dinner, but their mother was having none of it. At the look she gave them, they all felt compelled to reconsider their fight, and reluctantly followed her to the dining room. They mostly sat in silence, as their parents exchanged a few jumpy comments on the last opinion polls that seemed quite tight.

Miles wasn't sure what Hunter thought of him, yet, as they still hadn't talked. He wasn't being hostile, and Miles knew he could trust Frankie's talent for talking him down, but at the same time there was an unspoken uneasiness between them. Frankie noticed it too, and tried to do her best to smooth things over, leaning towards Hunter and silently sending him some meaningful glares. She knew her twin wasn't really mad at Miles; they had talked things over, extensively, and he had agreed with her that it had been an accident. He was probably just shocked, much like she had been at first, and maybe he needed a bit more time to process what had happened.

"So, tomorrow morning you mother and I will head to the ballots by eleven, to cast our votes," their dad announced, interrupting Frankie's thoughts. His voice still gave her chills, after yesterday, and she couldn't help but wonder if she'd ever hear an apology, from him, for the way he'd treated her. She highly doubted it, to be honest.

"We'll spend most of the day at the headquarters downtown, to follow the exit polls," he continued. "We were thinking that since school is closed, you children could come along, hang out there. It would be a nice situation to take an updated picture of all of us for the press release. What do you think, Frankie?"

Frankie froze in her seat, at the unexpected direct call.

"I was quite sad you couldn't join us, today," he continued, "Everybody misses you, on the campaign."

She didn't know what to say; she didn't want to say anything, to be exact, and already she could feel her stomach ache, twisting and contorting at his words. Could he really be so clueless? Or was he purposely trying to punish her? The silence felt uncomfortable, as she perceived everyone's attention pointed at her: her parents, waiting for her to say something; her brothers, shifting in their seats with concern.

"I… I don't think that is a good idea," she whispered.

"…Excuse me?" her father replied, puzzled, but was interrupted by the sound of Miles's fist slamming on the table.

"Can you really not see that you're hurting her?!" Miles asked in disbelief.

Their father looked taken aback, and Frankie let a quiet sigh escape her as all of his attention switched to her brother. Her dad was sporting the usual, mocking glare he reserved for Miles alone.

"And you're clearly the one with the best interest of this family at heart, right Miles? Because I seem to recall you almost burnt your sister alive, along with the rest of your school!"

Everyone froze at the harshness of those words, and Miles looked like somebody had just stabbed him in the back. It was such a low blow, even for their father, and suddenly Frankie felt compelled to say something, do something.

"But he didn't do it on purpose!" she cried.

"Frankie, shut up, I'm talking to your brother!"

"Leave her alone!" Miles shouted, and their dad lost any remnants of his cool at that.

"Let's make this clear once and for all, I'm not going to accept these tones, understood? Not from your sister, and certainly not from you!"

"Why, are we supposed to sit down and smile politely, while you throw your frustration around at us?" Miles was fuming, she could tell. He had stood up from his chair and was leaning threateningly against their father across the table. Frankie had frozen in her seat, her face blank, and next to her even Hunter was holding his breath.

"Boys, calm down, please, both of you," their mother intervened, trying to sound conciliatory. "Miles, apologise to your fa-"

"Hell no, he's the one who should apologise!"

"Enough! This is ridiculous!" Their father stood up, furious, pacing towards his eldest. "I'm not going to have this level of disrespect at the dinner table. If you have something to say, Miles, you can do so in my study, now!" And with that, he grabbed him roughly by the arm and pushed him out of the room, across the hall and into the office. A door slammed, and all they could hear, after, were muffled sounds that clearly masked some shouting from both parts.

Back in the dining room, nobody dared to say a word. The only sound came from their mother's cutlery working against the porcelain plate, while the twins weren't even moving, let alone eating.

"This isn't right…" Hunter finally muttered under his breath. Frankie raised her head in his direction, her own concern reflected in her brother's tone of voice. Their mum dropped the fork and knife at the side of her plate, and raised her eyes towards him.

"What do you mean?" she asked.

"I mean, the yelling, this… How long has this been going on, and we treat it like it's nothing, but-" He was clearly getting agitated, Frankie could sense it, but their mum interrupted him.

"Hunter, you know how your father and I feel about your brother's attitude. All he needed to do was apologise, and then-"

But they never got to know what would have happened, then, because in that moment they heard a loud noise coming from the study. It was a sound of wood crashing, like something heavy stomping against the wall, immediately followed by loud noises of objects falling on the floor and glass breaking.

"What the-" Hunter started, but Frankie was already on her feet, headed across the hall. She vaguely heard the other two getting up, chairs streaking against the hardwood floor, and following her outside. She ran along the corridor, but when she finally reached the study and slammed the door open, she stopped still where she was.

"Oh my God!" she whispered, covering her mouth with her hand.

The scene in front of her was unlike anything she had ever seen. Her brother, Miles, was on the floor, his back sprawled against the bookcase – or what remained of it, as a couple of the wooden shelves had twisted out of the light metal frame. All around him were the books and various objects that had fallen down at the impact, and shattered glass from a vase and some ashtrays. And Miles – gosh, Miles… the pain and sheer terror on his face were something she wasn't prepared to see, and it hit her so hard she had to grab the door frame not to fall on her knees. His eyes looked like those of a wild animal, and were pointed right across the room; there, their father stood facing him, the image of rage, hands clasped tight against the edge of the mahogany desk behind him.

Frankie set out to step inside the room, but a firm grip on her shoulders blocked her in her place. She turned around to see Hunter, his face white and his eyes wide and scared, and she saw her own panic reflected in them. Right at that moment, their mother stepped in front of them and into the room. She seemed hesitant for a split second, but then she walked right across towards their father, placed a hand on his arm, and softly murmured, "Come on, love… come with me…"

And Frankie in that moment knew that she would never forget the look on Miles's face, as he watched their mother take away their dad, out on the patio, without as much as a glance in his direction. He looked completely broken.

The moment their parents stepped out of the room, she felt Hunter let go of her, and they both rushed towards their brother.

"Miles… Oh my God, what did he do…?"

"Franks, careful, there's glass everywhere!" Hunter warned her.

Like she could possibly care about the glass! She didn't have it in her to argue with him, though, so they both carefully stepped on Miles's sides, and helped him to his feet. He shut his eyes as he got up, his face a mask of pain (her heart skipped a beat at the sight, and she wanted to scream, and burst down in tears), but he didn't make a sound. Frankie grabbed him by his arm and ushered him out of the room, Hunter close behind them. She tried to be gentle, but her heart was racing at full speed; she didn't even stop when she saw Miles stumble, visibly in pain, as she wanted him out of that damn room, quickly. There would be time for apologies, and softness, later; now it was just pure, absolute fear.

A/N: Just as you thought the poor kids had been through enough... Monster of a chapter, this one, full of many different things. It was exhausting to write, and now I feel like I have tortured poor Miles as much as humanly possible!

SERIOUS NOTE: at some point, when Miles was about to talk to his parents, I had him voice that "maybe he deserved it", referred to the eventuality of his father hitting him. This obviously does not reflect my own views, as I don't believe anyone deserved to be hurt, belittled, or humiliated, ever. It just felt like something that Miles would think, given how guilty he was feeling towards his sister.