"When are you going to tell them?" Daphne questions.
"Never," Bay answers.
"You know you have to tell them eventually, right?"
"I don't have to do anything," Bay argues.
"They are going to find out."
"Find out what?" Regina wonders entering the room.
Bay turns around, to face her. She exhales, and tries to think quickly.
"That I made you something, and I didn't make them anything."
"What did you make me?"
"A painting. I didn't want them to feel left out that I was giving you an original piece of my work."
"Can I see it?"
Bay smiles, "Sure."
She leads Regina into her studio. She shows her the canvas sitting on her easel.
"It's beautiful."
"Thank you."
"It isn't like the work you usually do."
"You don't like it?" Bay questions.
"I do, it is just not what I expected," she admits.
"Oh."
Regina stares at the canvas. The butterflies cover the canvas as if they are spreading their wings for the first time.
"What inspired this?" Regina quizzes.
Bay shrugs, "I don't know. I just thought I would do something different than I usually do."
"It's beautiful."
"It isn't dry yet."
"That's ok. Bay?"
"Yes?" she looks her in the eye.
"Are you ok?"
"Why wouldn't I be?" she wonders.
"You haven't been acting like yourself lately. You have been so quiet. It is almost as if you're hiding something."
"I have never been good at hiding things," Bay points out.
"You would tell me if something was going on?"
"Yeah," she lies.
"You're sure?"
"Yes," she reiterates.
"Bay, you know that you can tell me anything, right? I wont' judge you."
"I know that."
"I will listen with an open mind."
"I know."
"So if you need to talk you know where to find me."
"Ok," she nods, in agreement.
She pulls on her loose fitting, oversized t-shirt. She pulls up her pajama pants, and finishes blowing her hair dry. She pulls the bathroom door open, and finds her mother standing on the other side, as if she was getting ready to knock.
"Can I help you?" Bay asks.
"I just wanted to say goodnight," Kathryn insists.
"I'm not six anymore, you don't have to tuck me in."
"I know that, I just wanted to tell you goodnight."
"I don't buy it. Why are you really here?"
"I was talking to Regina earlier..."
Bay cuts her off, "And?"
"We are both worried about you."
"Why is everyone worried about me? I am fine."
"You have just been so quiet since Ty went back..."
"I don't want to talk about that."
"You seem like you are down in the dumps," Kathryn comments.
"What makes you think that?"
"Usually within a week you have another boyfriend."
"So you're saying I'm fickle?"
"No," she shakes her head, "I am just saying that you usually recover pretty quickly."
"I see."
"Do you think that he is the one, or something?"
She shrugs, "I don't know. I haven't even spoken to him since he went back."
"Why not?"
"It is hard to get a hold of him."
"You could write a letter," Kathryn suggests.
"I don't want to write him a letter."
"You sound angry. Did I miss something? Did something happen between the two of you that I don't know about?"
"Nothing happened," Bay insists.
"Then why are do you sound so angry at him?"
"I'm not angry at him," she lies.
"Are you sure that you're ok?"
"I am sure. I just wish that everyone would quit asking me that."
"Ok. I'm sorry. Sleep tight," Kathryn leaves the room.
Weeks later it's Sunday, and John, Kathryn, Toby, and Daphne head to church. Bay finds it impossible to attend church anymore, feeling like a hypocrite. After everyone leaves for church she gets dressed, and heads down to her studio. When she reaches the studio she finds the doors open. She steps inside, and finds Regina.
"What are you doing in here?"
"Close the door," Regina insists.
Bay closes the door behind her. Regina stands in front of the empty easel.
"Why are you in here?"
"I was looking for a piece of wire, so I could hang my picture up on the wall. It has been sitting on the floor, leaning up against the wall, for weeks."
"I should have put one on there. I'm sorry I just didn't think about it, when I gave it to you."
"Bay I think that you need to tell me what is going on, before I start jumping to conclusions."
"What do you mean?"
Regina opens her fist. She holds her hand palm up, revealing the unlabeled pill bottle in her hand.
"I wanted to give you a chance to explain, before I flipped my lid."
"It isn't what you think."
"I certainly hope not."
"They're vitamins."
"Bay you really expect me to believe that a pill this large is a vitamin? It is in a prescription bottle, without a label. I was not born yesterday."