Emma sat at her desk in her room flipping through the photo albums she had kept with her from when she had been a little girl. She had had a camera in her hands for as long as she could remember, and always made sure to take pictures of big events. She had birthdays, vacations with the Morans, big school projects, exciting new finds in the forest, celebrations, anything she could think of that brought joy to her life there were pictures for it. They were her memories, and one day when she was old she could look back on them and remember all the good times in her life – just like she was doing now.

As she looked back on her childhood, she noticed neither of her parents were in any of the pictures. They had never been around for special events. She was always with the Morans. She was happy now. Living with them was the best thing that could happen with her. She had a home where she felt safe, loved, and welcomed. When she came home at the end of the day, there was someone waiting for her, asking her where she had been, what she had been doing, and they took interest in what she had to say. When she was home late, there was someone who worried about her. It was completely different from what she had with her parents, who for most of her life had been gone.

She loved the Morans and she was very happy with them. She never wanted to go back to her old life and couldn't imagine leaving the Morans for anything. However, she felt that peace was threatened. Her mother had returned, and though it was her own doing, Emma didn't like what it meant. Mrs. Goodall was trying all she could to show her she was changing and that she could and wanted to be the mother Emma always needed. Emma was scared that if she let her mother into her life and if she let herself see that her mother was indeed changing into someone more caring and responsible, she would be forced to move out.

Well, not forced. She was sure the Morans would be happy to let her stay her last year until college, but it wouldn't be right. If she forgave her mother, she felt she would have to go and live with her. She was only staying with the Morans because she didn't have parents who wanted to take care of her and parents she could trust. Mrs. Goodall was proving she wanted to be a part of her life, she wanted to take care of her the way she should have been for seventeen years. If Emma forgave her, and let herself trust her mother again, there was no reason to stay. She didn't want to move again. She didn't want to be taken from her family. She didn't want to have to get used to a new life right before heading out and starting her own. She was comfortable with the Morans. She was safe with the Morans.

She didn't want to leave the Morans.

"You were adorable as a little girl," Mrs. Moran said and Emma jumped, startled. She hadn't heard the door open or Mrs. Moran walk up right behind her. She turned around and saw the older woman was chuckling. "Hello."

"You scared me."

"Sorry, but I have been calling you for dinner. Your mother made your favourite."

"No surprise there," Emma rolled her eyes. "She's trying too hard."

"She's new to this, Emma."

"She shouldn't be."

"I know. It would be nice if you did come downstairs for dinner, though. You shouldn't stay cooped up in your room all day long."

"Alright, fine," Emma sighed. She closed the photo album and followed Mrs. Moran downstairs. When she got to the kitchen and saw the meals on the table she turned to her mother, "Vegetarian, right?"

"100%," Mrs. Goodall promised. "I had a little help."

Emma glanced to Mrs. Moran and saw her nodding her head. Satisfied with the answer she took a seat and started eating. Mrs. Moran and Mrs. Goodall joined her.

"So, Emma…"

"Where's Gia?" Emma interrupted her mother and looked over to Mrs. Moran.

"She's eating dinner with Noah's family."

"Noah?"

"Your mother was going to ask you something," Mrs. Moran said. She started to worry about forcing Emma to come to dinner. If Emma kept up with this attitude, she would be forced to play referee.

"I was going to ask what made you want to be a vegetarian," Mrs. Goodall said. "I know it's not easy."

"Why wouldn't I be vegetarian?" was Emma's answer.

"Well, I'm…"

"I mean, why do people become vegetarians?"

"Emma, she was just asking after you," Mrs. Moran said. "Surely you have a reason to share with her."

"When I was thirteen I did," Emma said. "She could have asked me then."

"Is it the healthy lifestyle choice?" Mrs. Goodall wouldn't let herself be discouraged by Emma's attitude this time. She couldn't give up and needed to show her daughter she really wanted a relationship. "Or are you against killing animals for meat?"

"Yes," Emma answered.

"Emma, please," Mrs. Moran scolded the pink Ranger, "It's just a question."

"I don't think I want to talk," Emma said.

"I know you're hurting," Mrs. Goodall said. "I know you have your father and me to blame, but I'm trying to make up for that."

"You can't," Emma growled. She picked up her plate and walked upstairs to her room to finish eating her meal by herself. Mrs. Goodall put her head in her hands and sighed.

"I'm trying Vanessa. I really am."

"I know," Mrs. Moran put her hand on Mrs. Goodall's back, "You're doing all the right things."

"And she still won't… open up to me. She won't talk to me. I know I've screwed up. I'll admit to it. I'll announce it to the world and humiliate myself if that's what she wants…"

"I think this time, the fault is on Emma," Mrs. Moran said. She finished up the last few bites of her dinner. "Would you mind doing the dishes while I talk to her?"

Mrs. Goodall nodded while Mrs. Moran walked upstairs. She didn't knock on Emma's door. She walked right in.

"Grounded."

"What?"

"One week."

"What?"

"You heard me," Mrs. Moran nodded her head and crossed her arms over her chest, her signal that her word was final. "What you did downstairs was disrespectful not just to your mother, but to anyone. That behaviour will not be tolerated in this house and you know better. You're grounded for one week. Starting now. Go help your mother do the dishes."

"You can't do that!"

"Can't I?" Mrs. Moran asked. Emma groaned, got up from her desk and headed down the stairs. She saw her mother in the kitchen by the sink and sighed loudly.

"This isn't fair," Emma said as she picked up a pot and started to dry it. Mrs. Moran came down.

"Maybe when your attitude changes, we can all three sit down and talk about what's fair and what isn't."

"This isn't going to make me like mom anymore, you know that, right?" Emma said as she glanced over her shoulder at Mrs. Moran.

"I don't expect it to. You're not grounded for not liking her. You're grounded because of how disrespectful you were. Keep drying, I still see some wet spots."