The door opened with a soft click, and Chloe stepped into the main sitting room of her parents' suite, one floor down from her own penthouse. An uneaten lunch sat on the dining table just off the kitchenette – doubtless brought up by the kitchen staff and forgotten. Still the sitting area had retained its sterile and overly-clean appearance, but not entirely: Chloe spotted her father's suit jacket draped haphazardly over one of the dining chairs, along with a pair of high heels abandoned in the middle of the room. A designer purse lay against the far wall, its contents strewn across the floor. Muffled voices emanated from the closed bedroom door though Chloe couldn't make out the words. The sitting room was deathly quiet, the only occupant sitting in a tiny huddled ball on the couch, hugging her knees with an old black jacket draped over her chest and legs. The girl stared at the closed door to Chloe's parents' bedroom with wide eyes, tearstains streaking her cheeks. As the door shut, the girl glanced up at Chloe in wide-eyed surprise that immediately turned to excitement only to revert back to fear and nervousness.
Chloe let out a breath, studying the girl carefully. Dark bags under her eyes, holes along the bottom of her jacket, stains visible on her shirt… Her hair, which looked like she normally kept it well combed and brushed, lay matted and tangled against her scalp, the pink highlights Chloe had noticed that morning faded and streaked through with blonde and half-gone at the roots. In Chloe's arms, Bee-atrice quivered, letting out a quiet whine. The girl blinked, only to bury her face back in her knees. Chloe's stomach twisted around in knots.
"How the hell could you have allowed this to happen!?" Chloe's mother's piercing shriek reverberated through the room. The girl jumped, her eyes bugging out. Tensing, Chloe clenched her jaw, pushing the voice out of her mind. The shout came back, louder. "No; how the fuck did you even manage to do this!?"
"We–we were on a break," her father began hesitantly, his voice soft and trembling, before her mother interrupted him.
"I didn't think that would matter to you!" She scoffed. "Monsieur 'I will always be faithful to you'… and now do you see where that got you?" A loud slap echoed through the door. "I should have expected this from a politician."
Chloe frowned, rubbing Bee's back absently. "That's rich, coming from her…" she muttered, shaking her head. The girl on the couch cocked her head in confusion, looking away from the door and up at Chloe. Chloe sighed heavily, starting across the room in the direction of the couch. "You get used to them," she told the girl, pursing her lips and folding her arms. For better or for worse, she had gotten used to her parents' dysfunction. She coughed. "Sorry, what's your name?"
The girl flushed. "I'm, um, uh… Zoe? Zoe Lee," she answered quickly, swallowing nervously, her eyes darting back and forth across the room. The jacket fell off her, and Chloe could see that she still held that same manila envelope, hugging it to her chest. "I, uh, that is – um, my father is, uh–"
"I know." Chloe held up her hand to stop the girl's babbling. The girl jumped, letting out a quiet yelp. "I was watching it on the TV. And I assume since you're still here that they believe you." She swallowed, examining the girl closely. "What you said…"
Zoe looked down at the floor. "I'm–I'm sorry," she whispered, sniffling. "I didn't mean to cause trouble. I just… I wanted to meet him, you know? My–my father."
Chloe snorted, cocking her head to one side. The idea that anyone would actually want to meet the chaos and insanity that constituted her family…
"I swear it didn't mean anything!" her father was insisting. "Audrey, please–"
"Don't you 'Audrey, please' me!" her mother interrupted, rattling the pictures on the wall. "You've been so worried about this stupid fucking campaign it's all you've talked about for the last year! And then you let something like this happen!"
A loud stomp. "This is important to us!" her father shouted back. "You know this! You want this, just as much as I do! And this time, I have a shot at being appointed Prime Minister, once Astier retires in two years! But that will only happen if we win this election!"
Her mother scoffed derisively. "If you win," she repeated. "Do you remember this summer, when you accused me of ruining your reelection chances in Angola? It turns out you did a far better job of that yourself than I ever could!"
Chloe grimaced, looking back and forth between Zoe and the bedroom door.
There was a moment of silence, and her mother's volume suddenly jumped. "You're the campaign manager; manage this!"
Chloe stifled a shudder, giving Zoe a wry look. "Well, how does this compare?" she asked Zoe, letting out a breath.
Zoe's shoulders shook, and she lowered her gaze tears running down her cheeks.
Sighing, Chloe crossed the suite and sat down on the couch opposite Zoe, with the coffee table sitting between them and her back to the bedroom. In her arms, Bee-atrice squirmed, trying to wriggle free. She glanced down, and the puppy stared up at her with wide eyes. Nodding slowly, Chloe placed Bee on the floor. "If you must…" Without hesitating, the puppy bounded under the coffee table and bumped her head into Zoe's foot. Zoe started, stared down at Bee-atrice, and gasped, placing her feet on the ground. Bee nudged Zoe's shin, panting and letting out a light yip.
"Aww… hi, puppy," Zoe cooed, reaching down to scratch Bee behind her ears. Bee's tail wagged energetically as she looked up into Zoe's face and licked her palm. Zoe's frown broke for the first time since Chloe had arrived. "She's so adorable – what's her name? How old is she? What breed?"
Chloe smiled fondly. "Bee-atrice is a Papillon. Almost a year and a half old now," she answered. "Daddy got Bee-atrice for me a year ago spring. She helped me through one of the…" She gulped, blinking away the wetness in her eyes "… through one of the hardest times in my life."
Zoe sighed heavily. Her voice dropped to barely over a whisper, and her hand mid-pet. A vulnerable look crossed her face. "I could have used a Bee-atrice…"
"I… really needed her," Chloe admitted, looking away. "Especially the first couple weeks."
Zoe looked up, her eyes widening. "Was that when you stopped being Queen Bee?" she asked hesitantly.
Nodding, Chloe pursed her lips. "I couldn't sleep, I couldn't stand to be alone, I couldn't do anything after losing my miraculous – after losing one of my best friends." Zoe cocked her head to one side. Chloe opened her purse, and Pollen emerged from it and rose to hover by Chloe's head. "Pollen is the one who gives me my power."
"Greetings, my Queen!" Pollen chirped excitedly, before turning to face Zoe. "And greetings to my Queen's sister, too!"
Zoe smiled, still petting Bee's head. "Hi. It's… nice to meet you."
"It's nice to meet you, too!" Pollen answered, beaming brightly. "It is always so exciting when the hive expands!"
Chloe started, furrowing her brows. Was that what had happened today?
Zoe flinched as the voices from the bedroom grew louder. Her eyes darted toward the bedroom door, her face draining of color. Chloe frowned, her stomach clenching, as the argument continued. Zoe's shoulders tensed, and she shrank back into the couch, pulling away from Bee-atrice. The puppy headbutted Zoe's shin, whining piteously, before backing away and jumping to scramble up onto the couch.
"I guess this isn't exactly the reception you were hoping for," Chloe observed, raising an eyebrow and letting out a breath. Zoe shook her head, her eyes glistening. She hugged her chest tightly, withdrawing into herself. Chloe's jaw clenched. "Unfortunately, this isn't exactly unusual for them. Mother solves all her problems by screaming; Daddy tries to appease her – and sometimes me…" she added under her breath, looking away. Zoe swallowed, still staring transfixed at the door. Chloe pursed her lips, refocusing her attention on the younger girl. "How long have you known?"
Zoe shrugged, looking down at her knees. "A couple of years. Mom told me when I was doing a report on genetics for school – I needed to know what traits I had gotten from each of my parents, but I didn't know anything about my father before then. She explained everything, but she said I had to keep it quiet, that I couldn't tell anyone who he was. But then…" She fell silent, swallowing anxiously, and pulled her legs up to her chest, hugging them tightly. Bee-atrice let out a whine.
"If you had just kept it in your pants, we wouldn't be in this situation!" Chloe's mother snarled, just as the door opened and she stormed out, followed by her father and Jean-Claude. "Or if you had at least made that girl take care of the problem…"
Zoe flinched.
Chloe's jaw clenched, her eyes narrowing. Take care of the problem? When the "problem" was sitting on the couch right outside their bedroom? Chloe wished that she could believe her mother cared… but she had realized long ago that her mother only viewed her as a "problem" most of the time, too.
Ridiculous.
"Y–yes, dear," her father whimpered, wringing his hands together. "I–I thought it was taken care of–"
"Well clearly it wasn't," her mother snapped back, poking him in the chest. "Ugh! Utterly ridiculous!"
Jean-Claude coughed into his hand, flinching and jumping back as Chloe's mother turned her withering glare on him. "I'm sure I can work with this," he insisted, his eyes wide and a nervous look on his face. "We can turn this to our advantage."
Chloe's mother scoffed. "All you can do right now is get rid of this girl before the press take any more goddamn pictures!"
Chloe's eyes darted over to Zoe, whose lower lip was trembling.
Jean-Claude shook his head, quailing under her mother's gaze. Seeming to steel himself, he set his jaw. "You cannot unring this bell," he answered simply. "If the girl disappears, if the press never see her again, if we try to sweep it all under the rug, then questions will be asked. Don't you see? It would be political suicide, if we didn't make some statement about this."
"Then you deny any knowledge of the girl and insist that this was all a hoax by that Loubet bastard," Chloe's mother retorted, her eyes narrowed.
"But–" her father began, holding up a finger, only to be drowned out.
"Oh, for the love of– Why can't you just man up?" her mother demanded, folding her arms and turning away, turning up her nose. "Utterly ridiculous! And to think I picked you!"
"There is already a paternity test," Jean-Claude pointed out. "We can't deny it. If we present a test to show that Andre is not the father, then the other side will insist on running their own, as will the papers. And then we will look even more the fool when their tests contradict ours. No. If we deny, we will lose." Chloe's mother scoffed. Jean-Claude cleared his throat. "But, if we embrace it and lean into it, this could be our golden ticket to another term."
Her mother's eyes widened in surprise.
"What do you have in mind?" asked her father, furrowing his brows.
Jean-Claude glanced across the room at Chloe and Zoe, sitting on opposite couches, with Bee-atrice perched next to Zoe and Pollen hovering beside Chloe's head. Humming, Jean-Claude nodded slowly. "Make her seem welcome, a part of the family. The 'daughter you never knew you had.' Embrace her publicly and include her in the family campaign events. Show that you are responsible and own up to your mistakes." Chloe's mother tsked. "And as for you," Jean-Claude continued, glancing toward Chloe's mother and straightening his back, "you need to welcome this girl with open arms whenever you're in public. You stand by your husband and accept his daughter as your own. He is a family man; you are a nurturing mother."
Chloe's face set in a mask to hide the derisive snort she was trying not to make. Her mother barely accepted her own daughter; how was she supposed to accept Zoe? "Audrey Bourgeois" and "nurturing mother" did not belong in the same sentence.
Her mother's eyes narrowed. "I will 'accept' the girl. In public. For now. But that's it."