Have you ever felt like you age regressed? I'm not talking about picking up a coloring book or having a juice box. I'm talking full on, oh shit, am I suddenly five years old again? Because that's how it felt as my uncles drove me home from what was supposed to be a celebratory dinner at my favorite restaurant with my favorite people.

Silence wasn't something the three of us was known for, much less awkward stifling silence. Yet, as Davey drove us down the familiar streets toward their house, ignoring the route that would take us to the coffee shop and my apartment, it's all that we had.

I knew there would be questions, and concerns. I knew that the catalyst that came from Clay's team and MAX's standoff would somehow come to a head and involve my family, but I thought somehow that I'd have come up with a way to explain it. To be able to make it make some type of sense, or at least so they wouldn't worry, but that was stupid, so stupid. How could I EVER explain this entire mess to my uncles? Without them worrying?

Davey drove into the garage, he let the garage door shut behind us, and then we all walked into the house, still silent. I thought I could feel the waves of their disappointment, but I wasn't gauging anything correctly, not at all.

I watched, confused as they went room by room, searching for what I hadn't a single clue. Then back to where they'd left me before motioning for me to follow them into the kitchen where George turned on the blender and a food processor while Davey turned on the CD player. Seeing me staring at them as if they'd both lost their minds, they moved closer so we could talk in whispers.

"Since we have to believe that you're being watched," Davey muttered, since our heads were all close together, his lips barely had to move to be heard above the racket. "We have to assume that they bugged any property that is associated with you."

"Including our house." George agreed with a sigh. My eyes flashed to his and he grinned. "Did you think that Clay wasn't going to take a moment to clue us in?" He shook his head and rolled his eyes. "He loves you, and wants you safe. As soon as we came back, almost-" he corrected when Davey nudged him and rolled his own eyes. "He gave us the condensed version of their story."

"It helped that we're not fans of Walter or his cronies." Davey agreed. "You have to stay here tonight." My mouth opened to argue, but he shook his head. "Clay made us promise, Charlotte. Whatever is happening, you need to be safe and sound HERE."

"When-" their eyes told me more than anything they could have said. They didn't know. None of us would know anything, not until it was over. Until the dust or flames or bodies were found, no one would know anything. For now we were all in limbo, and I couldn't even go home.

I was due, according to my uncles and the 'party line' as it were, for a vacation. Keli was in charge of The Little Drip and I was in forced isolation at my uncles' house. George kept me busy with baking. Our conversations were benign, since we couldn't be sure that the house wasn't bugged, and Davey was our source of 'news'.

News, what a joke. My father was still playing as a BMOC. A new election was looming, so he was campaigning, I could see the signs popping up when I bothered peeking out the front windows. MAX, or Matthew and Alexander were strangely absent from the narrative currently. They weren't stumping for Daddy Dearest, but they also weren't being mentioned at all. Not as criminal elements, body parts found scattered, or missing persons which would make Clay's return imminent.

Instead, limbo. Limbo and baking. Limbo and binge watching television shows. Limbo and god help me, board games. I was growing stir crazy. I wanted news, real news, something that told me that Clay was alive and safe. News that promised his return and good things ahead. Something that wasn't THIS.

A week passed. Then another. A knock came to the front door and I would have rushed to answer it, but Davey probably would have tackled me to safety. Instead, George opened it to find Carrie holding takeout and a face that was strikingly similar to the one that stared back at me in the mirror.

"I thought I'd bring dinner," she said with a forced smile. "And see if you-" I shook my head, as my uncles helped her with her burden. She sighed, the smile dropping. "Dinner then."

The four of us gathered around the dining room, plates filled with pasta and bread, uncorked bottles of wine and faces that looked like a wake. "We can't keep this up," I sighed into my forkful of alfredo. Everyone stared at me. "This," I gestured at the room at large, at me and Carrie in particular. "We can't." I set my fork down. Pulling my cell phone from my pocket, I did something I'd been talked out of doing since the moment that I arrived at my uncle's house that night. I sent a text that I had typed up that very moment. It was simple, it wasn't the least bit personal, but it was necessary. For my fucking sanity at least. I hit the send button and sat the phone down again, picking up my fork and held up my head. "What?"

"Was that a good idea?" Carrie, the one person who MIGHT know what hung in the balance personally, even as her eyes gleamed with the same hope that I clung to.

"No clue," I shook my head, stabbing another bite. "But I can't do this-" another gesture at the silence and the waiting. "Not for much longer."

I didn't get a response immediately. I didn't expect one. Our foursome ate, drank, and while we weren't 'merry' we weren't entirely miserable either. The ding of a message came in as Carrie was getting ready to leave. All four sets of eyes landed on my phone, still sitting on the dining room table.

"It's probably just Keli." I muttered, unwilling to get my hopes too high. I picked it up and swiped the screen. I felt my lips curl up at how wrong I was, at how much relief I felt from a single photo with a time stamp. I sighed so loudly that I actually FELT the other three unwind from their own stress. "Safe." I held up the screen and Carrie nodded, her eyes glassy at the picture of Clay and the team in a crowded selfie, safe and sound.

It was enough. To hold me off, to keep me sane. For now at least.