Emily was folding the stack of adorably tiny newborn clothes they'd been gifted at the baby shower and putting them in the scant few spare inches of space she'd managed to create in one of the dresser drawers (that she'd had to empty all of Derek's socks out of in order to create said room).

"Your son has a bigger wardrobe than I do..." she lamented via text to Derek, even though he was at football practice and wouldn't see the message until later.

"Why did your Aunt buy him tiny running shoes?" she sent a second text. "He won't even be holding his own head up by the time he outgrows them..."

A third text just said, "AND WASH YOUR FUCKING SOCKS."

She was in the midst of debating pulling everything out of a second drawer just to make space for the stacks and stacks of diapers they had (thankfully) received when Desi knocked tentatively on the bedroom door.

"Hey, umm, do you want to go to the mall with Sarah and I?" she asked hesitantly, words coming out in a hurried jumble like she needed to get the words out before she changed her mind.

"Really?" She raised a brow, curious and perhaps a little skeptical at the offer. "But you guys hate me..."

Desi laughed nervously. "Hate you?" she repeated with all the same incredulity as if she'd just suggested she thought the Earth flat. "Why would you think that?" Over her shoulder, she glared at Sarah who was looking rather annoyed by the whole thing in an obvious command to at least act like she liked her.

Emily gave her a pointed look because, well, everything...

"Okay, I mean, maybe we haven't been the most hospitable," she conceded, "But it's only because we don't know you well enough. But we want to fix that...afterall, you're a part of the family now."

She still seemed hesitant.

"Please?" Desi put on a pleading face. "I know it would mean a lot to Derek..."

"Fine," she relented in a huff. She started the laborious and time-consuming process of standing up from the floor, burdened as she was by her belly. "But only because Derek would want it."

Desi was trying to make polite conversation with Emily, but seemed rather lost as to what to say. "So... Xavier..." she said slowly. "That's a cool name." She offered a smile that might've been reserved for vaguely threatening strangers on the bus.

"In Arabic it means bright and splendid," Emily offered. (While true, it had been an afterthought when they'd picked out the name...she just didn't want to admit to them that she was naming their nephew after a comic book character.)

"I didn't know you knew Arabic," Desi remarked, mildly interested.

"Google," Sarah muttered.

Pretending she hadn't head the offhanded remark, Emily explained, "I lived in Qatar for a brief period. I'm not great at Arabic, but better than I am at Russian..." She laughed a little, awkward and hollow.

Another uncomfortable silence.

"You don't have to do this," Emily said at length, tired of the charade. "You don't have to pretend to like me for Derek's sake."

"We do..." Desi started to refute.

Sarah scoffed.

"I get it," Emily said on a sigh. "I'm the tramp that got knocked up and ruined your brother's life. I wouldn't like me either." She shrugged emptily. "But you have to understand how much I love him. We're not stupid kids – well, not just stupid kids – we're planning a future together."

"Some future," Sarah muttered, "Two teenagers with a baby, living off my mom like leeches..."

For a moment, Emily blinked in surprise – not that Sarah thought that, but that she'd said it. "That's... That's not going to happen."

"Like hell it won't..." It was clear that Sarah had been holding in this rant for a long time and now that she'd finally unleashed it, she wasn't going to stop until she'd said her piece.

Emily huffed. "What do you want from me? Do you want me to leave and never see him again? Give the baby away? What can I do to make you happy?"

"I want you to leave," she said flatly.

Desi gasped. "Sarah!" she hissed, looking horrified. "You can't say things like that!"

Sarah gave her a pointed look. "She asked..." she justified, folding her arms over her chest, resolute.

Ignoring her, Desi told Emily, "She doesn't mean it, she just..."

"I do mean it!" she insisted. "She asked what I want and I want her to go away."

Desi glared at her sister. "And what about the baby?"

She shrugged. Obviously, that wasn't her concern.

Emily, who had spent the last several minutes gaping in shock, suddenly came back to life. She stood, grabbing her purse.

"Emily, wait!" Desi cried. "Don't go, it's not what..."

She didn't give her a chance to speak, though. She was already gone.

Derek arrived home from football practice, hollering into the house, "Oh, Baby Mama – Daddy's home!" He dropped his bag of sweaty, stinky gear by the door on his way to the kitchen, preparing to wrap Emily in an unpleasant hug that she would struggle to escape, just as they always did after football practice.

"That's so creepy," Desi informed him from her spot at the dinner table. She didn't look up from her plate where she was pushing her food about, unable to stomach anything with the hot ball of guilt settled in her stomach.

"Where's Emily?" he asked, ignoring her. His brows furrowed in concern at the lack of Emily's presence.

Sarah shrugged. "No idea." She, on the other hand, didn't seem to share in Desi's guilt.

Desi shot a glare at her.

Fran frowned. She'd assumed Derek knew where Emily was... "I haven't seen her since this morning," she said, concern in her voice. "Maybe she's upstairs resting?"

"Sarah..." Desi prompted. Sarah shot her a glare.

Derek frowned. "What's going on? Where's Emily?"

The two sisters shared a silent conversation.

Fran, of course, missed nothing, eyeing them in their unspoken debate. "Girls? What do you know?"

Desi burst out, "Sarah told Emily she should leave and I think she did!"

"Dammit it, Desi!" Sarah snapped. "Some secret keeper you are..."

Derek turned on his heel, marched back toward the door without waiting to hear another word.

"Derek, where are you going?" Fran asked, standing and following.

"To find Emily," he said, pulling on his coat. Without word, Fran pulled on her own coat.

"It's late," Sarah said, "She's probably at home. Can't it wait until morning?"

Derek glowered at her. "No. It can't."

Before further argument could break out, Derek's phone rang. He had a short conversation, then hung up, visibly blanching.

"Who was it?" Fran asked.

"The hospital," Derek rasped. "Emily was just admitted."

Fran's eyes went wide. "Is she okay?"

"She was in a car accident..."