All characters belong to Sega/Archie except my OCs.

TW: Mentions of child abuse and suicide

Chapter 24

Amy's pink curls blew in the wind flowing through the open window of the Nissan Altima her fathers had rented for the trip. Her dark green, reflected lighter from the shining sun, were fixated on the grassy plains passing by them. The large fields ran miles ahead of them and miles across from them. Amy couldn't make out many concrete streets besides the main one they were riding on, but she did see a lot of small houses sitting on the vast fields. From her distance, she could see small silhouettes of people and animals wandering around in the fields. She spotted a lot of domestic horses and cows littering the gated fields. Their distinctive smell of manure wafted through the atmosphere. Amy managed to refrain from wrinkling her nose from the unpleasant scent. She'd never seen so much of the countryside before. Benny had only taken her and Marc to visit his family on a few select occasions. Since he still wasn't on the best terms with his family because of his sexuality, he only showed his face during big events such as weddings and funerals that he was personally invited to. Each time, they'd mostly stayed in the urban area of his town. They rarely ever strayed near the wide, open fields Benny once used to spend all his time in. When he was younger, it was once a safe haven; now it only brought back bad memories. He'd only taken Amy and Marc there once, but Audrey barely remembered the view of the fields. She just remembered running around picking a bouquet of butterweeds to give to her fathers. Seeing the yellow fields after so many years reminded her of the youthful innocence she held before the clouds took over her mind and forced her into a never ending sadness.

Her heart increased in speed as she acknowledged the reason she was watching the beautiful yellow flowers pass her by. She tugged at the sleeves of her long sleeved shirt. Although she was sweating from the novel heat of the south, she didn't want to reveal her scars. Not yet.

Swirling butterflies entered her stomach as Benny pulled the car up a small hill where four or five smaller houses lay spaced out at least half a mile away from each other. The family rode down to the very end of the street to a small baby blue house with a large front patio and white shutters. Behind the house was a large field; a red barn house and gardens filled with colorful flowers and plants filled in the wide space. Amy could admit the sight looked as if it were the muse for a painting; it was picturesque and quaint. However, the context of her presence there made the dark clouds in her mind swirl with devious delight.

"Are you ready to go in or do you need a minute," Marc asked as he turned around to look at his daughter.

Amy played with the amethyst ring on her finger. "I think I'm ready."

Marc smiled. "Alright."

He and Benny got out from the car. Amy hesitated for a brief moment, but followed after them. She stayed close behind them as they ascended the steps onto the porch. Benny was the one who opened the screen door and knocked gently on the wooden white door. The three of them waited for a minute before the door creaked open. Behind the white door was a tall, brawny man with chocolate skin, warm brown eyes, and a wide smile. He was dressed in a plaid, short sleeved button up with blue jeans and black boots. His kinky curls were cut short on his head, and his face was shaved clean of any hair. "Hello," he exclaimed, his voice deeper in person than over the phone. "You must be Mr. and Mr. Nieves-Taylor. It's nice to finally meet you!" He extended his hand out to them. "I'm Sterling; Sterling Montgomery."

"I'm Marc," the Hispanic man said as he shook the man's hand.

"My name's Benjamin, but everyone calls me Benny," his spouse said as he shook Sterling's hand.

Marc glanced back at Amy who was hiding behind him. He stepped aside and gently nudged her forward. "This is Amy," he introduced her.

The teen's green eyes inspected the stranger in front of her. From his physique and warm smile, he reminded her of Benny to an extent. He seemed to a gentle giant. Yet, she couldn't ignore the rush of adrenaline flaring up her spine and warning her to run away from him. He was the reason for her violent past, and for that she feared him. She shrunk under his curious gaze. "Hi," she murmured.

"Wow," he said simply as his smile dimmed. He scrutinized her facial features with a crease between his brows. "You look just like your mother…just with darker skin; it's almost uncanny."

Soft blush flourished on Amy's cheeks. At the mention of her mother, the clouds in her mind whipped to the front of her consciousness. She averted her eyes to focus on keeping their malicious phrases at bay.

"I mean it as a compliment," Sterling said. "You're a beautiful young woman, Amy; just like your mother." His smile regained its light. "Come in, come in. Please." He stepped aside to let Amy and her fathers inside. The soft scent of a freshly baked sweet potato pie wafted through the air. The tension in Amy's shoulders faded the slightest bit from the familiar scent of her father's favorite desert. Her light green eyes inspected the small photos on the walls as Sterling led them into the living room. She spotted a wedding photos, family gatherings, and professional family photos of Sterling with what Amy assumed was his wife and young daughter. She didn't to have a good luck at the women before she entered the living room. The large room was carpeted with a rusted brown colored wool. A large flat screen television sat atop a stand with a DVD player and a Play Station Four within its shelves. To the right of the television was a large black rack filled with DVDs and video games. The furniture included a coffee brown colored love seat, Lay-Z-Boy, and couch. At the far left of the room was a doorway Amy assumed led into another room. Across from it was a large window with a rusted red curtain hanging from it. Sterling motioned for the three to sit down.

Amy stayed close to her fathers; she sat between them on the couch.

"You have a nice home," Marc commented.

Sterling grinned. "Thank you. Let me get my wife and daughter. They'd also like to meet the three of you. Is that alright with you, Amy?"

"Um, sure," Amy said. She feigned a tiny smile at the man.

Sterling nodded his head before he disappeared through the doorway. His booming voice along with two softer ones could be heard between the walls. A cheerful squeal echoed through the house. Amy and her fathers raised an eyebrow at the sound. Tiny footsteps clicked against the marble floor of the kitchen towards the living room. A young girl with dark chocolate skin, gleaming brown eyes, kinky curls that were pulled up into two round pigtails, and a missing tooth smile appeared in the doorway. She was dressed a simple tee with shimmering flowers, jeans, and black flats. "Finally," she exclaimed. She practically ran and jumped into Audrey's lap. "Finally my big sister is here! I've been praying to God for a big sister, ya know, and Daddy said it would take a miracle for it to come true, but I knew He'd come through; He always does!" Her hands gently caressed Amy's curls. "Wow, you're so pretty! How did you make your hair pink? Did you dye it?" She leaned close into Amy's face, causing the teen to back up. "And your eyes are as green as the grass! That's so cool!"

"Did you introduce yourself before you jumped on her," Sterling asked in a firm tone as he and a woman entered the room. The woman was a little shorter than Sterling with the same dark chocolate skin as the young girl and carried a slender physique; her kinky curls were pulled up into a bun on top of her head, and she was wearing a simple blue sundress that fell to her knees.

"I'm Melanie," the young girl said. "And you're Amy, my big sister!"

"Hi," Amy squeaked as she feigned a smile. She glanced at her fathers to see they were restraining from laughing at her wide-eyed expression.

"Mommy, look how pretty she is," Melanie exclaimed as she climbed off of Amy's lap. She grabbed her hand and nearly pulled her up out of her seat. "Come meet my mommy!"

The woman chuckled as her daughter dragged Amy up to her. "Hello, Amy. I'm Bonnie," she said as she extended her hand. "It's a pleasure to meet you. I apologize about Melanie's behavior; she likes bothering new people."

"She's not a new person," Melanie protested. "She's my big sister! She's family!"

Her parents exchanged an uneasy glance. Amy widened her feigned smile. "It's okay," she told the older couple before they could speak. She locked eyes with Bonnie and nodded. "It's okay," she repeated.

"Why don't we all sit and chat," Bonnie suggested. "Melanie and I just made some sweet potato pie. Would you guys like some?"

"Sure," Amy said with a shrug. She glanced back at her fathers for a nod of confirmation. They followed her, and the hosting family into the small kitchen. The marble floor squeaked against their shoes. A small kitchen table sat in the middle of the room; it was surrounded by white counters, cabinets, and small photos of flowers. They all gathered around the table as Bonnie began to cut the pie into slices. Amy sat next to Marc, and Melanie sat beside her.

"Aren't you hot in this shirt," she asked as she tugged at Amy's sleeves.

"Not really," Amy lied. She gently moved her arm out of Melanie's grasp. She feigned a smile at Bonnie as she sat down a slice of pie and a glass of milk in front of her. After everyone had their own plate of pie and glass of milk in front of them, Sterling spoke up.

"Well, Marc, Benny, and Amy, this is my family; my wife, Bonnie, and our daughter, Melanie," he explained with a smile.

"You have a very beautiful family," Marc complimented. He looked to Melanie. "How old are you, chiquita?"

"Five," Melanie said with a toothy smile. "I'll be six in July." She poked at Amy. "How old are you?"

"Sixteen," Amy replied. "I'll be seventeen next month."

"Cool," Melanie mused. "You're so much older than me!"

Amy averted her eyes, but didn't respond.

"So, Amy," Bonnie said. "Sterling tells me you're from Chicago. How is it there? I've never been to a city."

"It's okay," Amy said with a shrug. "We live near downtown, but not too close so we're not in the middle of everything. There's a lot of small shops and restaurants where we live. Benny owns his own restaurant; I work there with him."

"Really," Bonnie exclaimed. She turned her eyes to Benny. "What's kind of restaurant?"

"We specialize mostly in soul food and grilled or fried items; it's a strange mixture. I'm from North Carolina so I'm used to the combination of tastes. When Amy moved in with us, she added milkshakes to the menu," he explained.

Sterling raised an eyebrow. "Milkshakes?"

Benny nodded. "Marc used to pick her up from school and drop her off at my restaurant when he had to go back to work; he's a painter and a manager at gallery downtown. The only way to keep her quiet sometimes was to get her ice cream. Rather than having to walk around the corner to the ice cream shop, she suggested we just start serving milkshakes at my joint. Nine years later, and they're one of my most popular items."

Bonnie smiled. "Well, that's an interesting story. So, Amy has been with the two of you for nine years?"

The two men nodded.

"And this was through the foster care program, correct?"

"Yes," Marc said. "I know foster kids don't usually stay with their foster parents for too long because it usually doesn't work out or the children have to be moved, but our situation worked out well. Benny and I were looking to foster a child to practice our parenting skills; we were planning to adopt a child of our own. Amy happened to be our first, and she blended right into our family." He offered his daughter a smile. "She's our little girl."

Amy smiled as she squeezed her father's hand.

"Are you still planning to adopt a child of your own," Sterling asked.

Marc raised an eyebrow. "We're actually in the process of adopting Amy."

Sterling nodded. "Oh. I see."

"She's practically our daughter already, so we figured we might as well make it official," Benny explained. "In a couple of weeks, the paperwork will be complete, and she'll take our last names and we'll be able to have more legal rights with her than we do now."

Bonnie's smile widened. "That's great to hear! Congratulations to the three of you!"

Marc smiled. "Thank you."

Bonnie tilted her head. "The two of you are married, right?"

Marc and Benny nodded.

"For how long?"

"Well, we met when I was twenty and he was twenty-two," Benny began to explain. "We dated long distance for two years because he lived in Chicago and I was in North Carolina. Then I moved in with him, and we got married three years later. Amy moved in with us after we'd been married for five years. We've been together for almost twenty years."

"Wow," Bonnie said with a nod of her head. "That's amazing. How did you guys meet exactly?"

Benny and Amy exchanged a smile while Marc rolled his eyes. "Papa showed up in daddy's family's restaurant in North Carolina dressed in tight black leather pants, knee high boots, and a red shirt covered in glitter and jewels," Amy began to explain.

Marc sighed. "I was just getting back from posing in a portrait for one of my friend's paintings. They love leaving that part out."

Amy ignored him and continued. "Daddy was assigned to be his waiter, and papa starting flirting with him right off the bat. They exchanged numbers, daddy snuck out every night for the entire month papa was in town for commission work, and they've been together ever since." She smiled at her fathers. "Daddy always says papa is the only guy for him." She turned her eyes to Bonnie. "How did you and Mr. Montgomery meet?"

"We've known each other all of our lives," Bonnie explained. "Franklin is a small town; everyone knows each other, and people rarely leave. We were in the same class from preschool all the way up to high school, yet it still took him forever to realize I liked him. He didn't ask me out until our five year high school reunion. We dated for a few years, got married, had Melanie, and here we are." She nudged her husband. "He was too caught up with all the pretty girls when he was young, dumb, and immature."

Sterling rolled his eyes. "No, you just liked playing hard to get whenever I tried flirting with you. At that age, I had time to play games. At least I was mature enough to know when to stop."

Bonnie shrugged. "I guess I can give you credit for that."

Melanie poked at Amy's arm again. "Do you have a boyfriend?"

"Yeah," Amy said. A tiny smile pulled at her lips at the thought of the boy she loved.

"Do your fathers approve of him," Sterling asked with a raised brow.

"Depends on what day it is," Benny admitted. "Some days, yes. Other days, no."

Amy shook her head. "Let's just say he's a work in progress."

"How did you meet him? From school?" Bonnie inquired.

"No. He's our next door neighbor, actually. I've known him since I moved in with Benny and Marc. He and his sister were my best friends growing up. We've had a tumultuous relationship over the years, but we've always managed to remain friends. We formed a crush on each other in middle school, but neither of us knew about it. We didn't know we liked each other until last summer; we were spending a lot of time with each other. We just started seriously dating not too long ago."

"Do you really like him," Sterling asked.

"Yeah," she said with a nod. "He makes me really happy, even though he can be really annoying."

"Are you sure you're okay in this," Melanie asked as she tugged at the sleeves of Amy's sweater again. "Your hands are all sweaty. Maybe you should roll up the sleeves just a little. Here, I'll do it for you."

Before Amy could protest, the young girl pulled up her sleeve, revealing the gruesome scars wrapping around her forearm – and the small red horizontal lines on her wrist. The table went silent as the adults, and Melanie, stared at Amy with wide eyes. For Marc and Benny, they were shocked at the sight of the marks on her wrist. For the others, they were taken aback by all the scars in general. Amy froze under all of their gazes. The clouds circling around her mind rushed to take over her thoughts.

Ha! You couldn't even last a half hour without revealing how ugly you are!

I wonder what all of them are thinking.

Oh, I have an idea!

In their heads, they're telling you how disgusting you are!

Look at those scars!

Look at those cuts!

Look at their faces!

They're all gonna hate you!

That's assuming they don't already.

Remember, daddy dearest did give you up.

He doesn't want you.

He'll never want you.

He'll never love you.

You're unlovable.

Nothing will ever change that.

Amy blinked back the tears that formed in her eyes. "Um, excuse me," she said as she pushed her chair out. She hurried out of the kitchen, through the living room, and out the front door. She'd just closed the door behind her when her tears began to fall. She tugged her sleeve back down and wiped at her moist cheeks. She noticed the two rocking chairs on the porch and took a seat in one of them. She lay her elbows on her thighs and pressed her hands against her face. Silently, the teen tried to will the dark clouds away. She tried to tell them they were wrong; she was beautiful and lovable. Her efforts failed. The clouds washed away her positive thoughts before she could even fully form them. Their insults pressed down against the front of her brain, adding pressure to her forehead. The pain created a headache for the poor girl. Her crying didn't help make it stop; instead, it increased the pressure. Amy wished Marc or Benny would come out and take her back to their hotel. She didn't want to be there anymore. She met her father, swapped a few stories, and ate some pie. The meeting didn't have to be any more than that. He didn't have to know about her trauma. The two of them could just resume their separate lives with the closure of knowing the other was doing fine. Sterling had his perfect little family, and Amy had her fathers. They didn't need each other; they had more than enough love around them. Audrey wanted to go home and curl up underneath her covers with Sonic's arms wound tight around her. He hadn't noticed the cuts the night before, and she thanked God for it. Although she knew he was going to be disappointed in her when he finally did notice the, she didn't quite care. She just wanted to be back in her safe place: her warm bed.

She heard the screen door creak open, but she didn't pull her hands away from her face. In the darkness behind her eyes, she listened to the footsteps against the concrete make their way up to her. She never felt a gentle hand on her shoulder or lips in her hair or a firm grasp around her wrists to pull her hands away from her face. Instead, she heard a soft creak of someone sitting in the rocking chair beside her. "Benny and Marc didn't do this to me," she told the stranger who had come to her side. "They'd never hurt me."

"I know," Sterling's deep voice rumbled through her ears. "I'm sure social services would've taken you away if they'd done that to you." He paused. "Did your mother do that to you," he asked quietly.

"Yes," Amy murmured almost inaudibly. She forced her hands away from her eyes and looked to her biological father's deep frown. "I…I should show you something." She sniffled as her hands went to the hem of her shirt. She hesitated from the dark clouds insults and warnings. She closed her eyes, gritted her teeth, and lifted her shirt. Beneath her long sleeved tee was a spaghetti strapped camisole. Amy had debated showing Sterling her scars, but when she'd gotten dressed that morning, she hadn't made up her mind. By layering up, she had the option to keep the scars to herself if she wanted to. But he'd already seen a small portion of them. Why not show him almost all of them?

A gasp left his lips as Amy revealed the dark, thick scars wrapping around her body like vines. They covered almost every inch of her arms, dipped in horizontal lines across her chest, and covered a good deal of her back. Tiny red scratches accompanied the ones on her arms. The sight of them made his heart sink further in his chest. "Giselle did this to you," he whispered.

"Yeah," Amy replied. "Before I tell my piece, because I don't think I can without crying or breaking down right now, maybe you should tell yours. How did you meet her?"

"I…I was in the marketplace delivering some goods when I saw her shopping around. I remember she was dressed in six inch heels and a beautiful purple maxi dress. She stood out like a sore thumb, but she was absolutely stunning in my eyes. I flirted with her and asked her out. She agreed, and we started seeing each other. I didn't know the little boy was her son when I'd go to her estate. I thought he was a younger sibling or a nephew or something. I didn't know she was married. I didn't even know she was an heiress of a company. I just knew I thought she was beautiful, and I enjoyed the way she made me feel – physically and emotionally. Maybe that's why she liked me so much; I saw her for who she was and not who everyone wanted her to be. She only told me the whole story when she found out she was pregnant. I think she wanted to stay here…with me. When she told me, she was talking about leaving her husband and packing her son up and moving down here. She kept telling me we could raise the baby together, but I wasn't mature enough for a baby. I was nineteen and in trade school; I couldn't raise a baby or support a family. I told her to get an abortion, but she didn't listen to me. I thought she'd wanted to keep the baby for revenge against me, but I didn't let that happen. I signed off my rights the second after I signed your birth certificate. I wanted nothing more, but to make the baby and Giselle disappear. I couldn't have the mistake of sleeping and knocking up a married woman weighing down on my shoulders. Little did I know the mistake was not fighting for my daughter." His eyes scanned over her scars again. "What did she do to you?"

"Honestly, I don't remember in full details. I remember flashes, but I don't remember everything. My mind repressed the memories after… Well, I guess I should start from the beginning." She sighed as Wyatt's words from what seemed like so long ago rang in her hand. "When I was born, my mother didn't have any type of relationship with me. She didn't hold me, she didn't breastfeed me, and I bet she didn't even look at me. Two years later, when her husband filed for divorce, she started hitting me over every little thing. The hitting gradually turned into full on abuse. I remember bruises, deep cuts, busted lips, black eyes, and an unbearable pain. The abuse went on like this for five years before she finally decided she was done with me." Amy paused as the flashes of the memory burned in her mind. Her scars stung as the images of her mother's glassy green eyes and the fire and blades around the whips made themselves visible. "She tried to kill me by beating me to death with a scorched whip and a bladed one. Wyatt called the cops and saved my life."

The lump in her throat began to make it hard for her to speak. "My mind repressed all the memories of life before I woke up in the hospital because it couldn't take the trauma; it couldn't comprehend all the pain and suffering I'd endured. But of course memories don't actually disappear. I had nightmares when I was younger. As a pre-teen, the nightmares turned into thoughts. My thoughts created a never-ending sadness and self-hatred. The sadness turned out to be clinical depression and post-traumatic stress disorder; it was a result of the trauma I'd endured. Apparently I'd always had it, but my brain functioned it into night terrors and gloomy days that I couldn't really understand." She wiped at the tears on her cheeks.

"When I was about fourteen, I began having suicidal thoughts. I was tired of existing, and I absolutely hated myself; I didn't think I deserved to live any longer. Last summer, I attempted to kill myself." She reluctantly looked over to her father. "The boy I'm dating now found me and saved my life, but I haven't gotten any better or worse since then. I've been working on getting closure from this whole situation. I visited Giselle's grave, I reached out to you, and I'm trying to love myself, but it's been extremely difficult. I don't self-harm as often as I used to, but I can't help myself sometimes. I'm just tired and sad and ripping myself apart all of the time. I couldn't control the pain my mother gave me, but I can control the pain I give myself. It's a terrible way to cope, but it's the one thing I always turn to when sleeping doesn't help." She wrapped her arms around herself. "To this day, I don't know why she hated me so much, and I probably never will; it's something I'm learning to deal with even though it makes it ten times harder than it was before."

Sterling was at a loss for words. He stared at his biological daughter for a long moment, unsure of what to say to her. An apology wouldn't suffice for all she'd been through. He couldn't be selfish and assume Giselle's hatred towards her was an effect of the bad ending of their relationship. He didn't know how the beautiful, smiling, kind woman he once knew could hurt her own daughter like this. The thought of trying to imagine Giselle hurting such a beautiful child felt like a knife to his heart. He never knew Giselle possessed such an evil within her bright soul. "Amy," he murmured.

"It's alright," she said. "You don't have to say anything. This information wasn't to hurt you or make you feel bad for me. I just…I wanted you to have an idea of who I am, what I've been through, what I'm going through, and where I'm going. I'm never going to recover from this. I'll always have my bad days, but I'm striving to have more good days; I'm trying to work on simply being happy." She sniffled. "Thanks for meeting with me, but I want to leave now. Can you get my fathers for me?"

Sterling nodded. He wordlessly got up and retrieved Marc and Benny. From a distance, he watched the two men help the teen up from her seat and lead her to the car. Marc sat in the backseat with her while Benny took charge of the wheel. Sterling watched them drive off down the long street and down the hill with his own tears falling from his face.

The ride back to the hotel was quiet for the three of them. Amy silently sobbed into Marc's chest as he held her close to him. The moment they were back in their hotel room, Amy hid beneath the covers of her bed. Benny lay beside her and rubbed his hand on her back. Marc sat at the table coffee table with his laptop, looking for earlier flights they could catch back home. He and Benny knew Amy wasn't going to go back to Sterling's house. She'd done what she wanted to do, and she wanted nothing more than to go home. They promised they could give that to her.

Unfortunately, the earliest flight they could book was for the next morning. Marc and Benny thought it may have been for the best. Then Amy could relax a little bit and sleep. The girl did exactly that. She ended up falling asleep for a couple of hours. Her fathers let her sleep. They understood she'd had an emotionally draining experience and needed to regenerate. When she finally awakened, they ordered pizza and rented a few movies on the hotel television to watch. They curled up together on the small couch and watched the movies while they ate. Around eight o' clock, Marc's phone began buzzing rapidly on the table. Aleena's name read across the top of his screen. He excused himself from his family to answer the phone. He moved to the other side of the room. Amy and Benny watched him as he answered the phone. Aleena's voice quickly hummed through the other end. A crease appeared between Marc's eyebrows as she spoke.

"Tranquilo. Respirar. Entonces habla," he spoke softly to her.

Elena's voice died down as she did as she was told. As her voice buzzed again, Marc's eyes widened. "What," he exclaimed.

Benny got up from his seat and walked over to his husband. He set his large hand on his spouse's arm. "What is it? What's happened?"

Amy turned away from her fathers as her own cellphone began buzzing on the table. Her best friend's name read across the top of the screen. Amy's brows creased together as she answered the phone. Sonia's muffled sniffles rang through the other end. "What's wrong," Amy asked. "Why are you crying?"

"It's all my fault, Amy. None of this would've happened if I'd just snuck through my window that night. It's all my fault. Lo siento mucho. Lo siento much, Dios. Por favor, perdóname," her best friend whispered quickly. She began repeating her last two sentences in an even quieter tone.

"Sonia, slow down. What's going on? Where are you?"

"I'm in the hospital," Sonia managed to say between her tears. "We're all in the hospital."

"What? Why? Are you guys okay? What happened?"

Sonia's voice cracked as she spoke. "It's Sonic, Amy. Sonic…they shot him. They shot him three times, Amy. The doctors aren't sure if he's gonna make it. He's still in surgery, but they said he was in critical condition when someone called an ambulance. It's really bad. They think he's gonna die, Amy."

Amy's dark green eyes widened as she registered her friend's words in her head.

Sonic…he got shot.

They shot him.

It's all your fault.

You should've just slept with him.

Then none of this would've happened.

But you turned him away and started an unnecessary feud.

Now your boyfriend's going to die.

And it's all your goddamn fault.

Tears welled in Amy's eyes. Sonia's voice echoed through her head, but Amy couldn't make sense of the words. The dark clouds consumed her mind. Their taunting voices chanted in her head, blinding her thoughts and vision. She wasn't sure which one fell to the floor first: her body or her phone. No matter which won the race, each one quietly bounced against the carpet as it hit the floor.

Originally, I was going to leave the last chapter up for a while before updating this one, but I think this is just as much as a cliffhanger as the last one.

Please Review!