Emerson McKay frowned as Brandon Walsh, his maternal uncle, hesitantly placed a slightly crinkled and torn envelope into his hands, a hesitant look in his eyes. On the front read: "Emerson Byron McKay", printed in what he recognized as his mother's handwriting. The boy frowned, a pang of sadness shooting through him.

"W...what is this?" He looked up at his aunt and uncle, who both wore solemn expressions on their faces. Kelly and Brandon exchanged glances as if waiting to see who would speak up first.

"It's from your parents, honey. Your uncle and I found it while we were going through everything a few years back." Kelly answered, suddenly finding it hard to look her nephew in the eye.

"A few years back?" Emerson echoed, frowning. "Why didn't you tell me when you found it?" He asked in a low tone. Kelly fidgeted with her sleeve, the guilt flooding through her.

"We didn't think you were ready at the time," Brandon was quick to speak up. "Everything was just too fresh, we figured that it'd be best to give you some time to process it all."

Emerson narrowed his eyes, features darkening. "Didn't think I was ready? My mother died before I got to say goodbye for God's sake, and you guys thought I wasn't ready?" the young adult hissed. Brandon opened his mouth to retort, it wasn't like that-

"No, let me talk," Emerson snapped at his uncle, the man who had taken himself and his siblings in after everything had happened. "Do you know how long it took me to find some form of closure in all of this? Not knowing why this happened, or what the twins and I did to deserve this?"

"Em-"

"You guys had the answers the whole time?!" Emerson couldn't help himself; tears began to form in his chocolate brown eyes which he shared with his father. "I trusted you, especially when I felt like I couldn't trust anyone else." He said the last part softly.

Kelly, who was full-on crying at this point, moved quickly to envelop her oldest nephew in a tight hug which he tried to resist at first but allowed it to happen. He finally broke down, hot tears spilling down his reddened face rapidly and sobs raking through his body uncontrollably. Not saying a word, Brandon wrapped his arms lovingly around his family, softly crying with them. This wasn't how things were supposed to turn out. Brenda and Dylan were supposed to have lived long enough to watch their children grow up, have families of their own, and grow old together. Funny how life had a way of fucking up plans so suddenly. So permanently.