MB: This chapter is a bit dramatic and emotional. I apologise in advance.

Otherwise, enjoy!

CHAPTER SEVEN:

A FAMILY MATTER

Just when Marinette thought she was done with secrets, she realized her parents had been keeping the biggest secret her whole life.

She didn't utter a single word when Tom and Sabine asked their daughter to speak with them in private.

Correction: their youngest daughter.

The truth was like cold water that hurt every time Marinette tried to swim through it. Her heart felt exceedingly heavy, and her feet practically dragged along the ground as she led her parents to her personal chambers.

Marinette caught Adrien's worried gaze as she exited the antechamber. Alya tried to follow, but Nino silently advised her against it. Everyone else – the king, Nathalie, Master Fu, and the kwamis – offered Marinette a unified look that clearly said, Good luck.

Luck? She didn't need luck right now. She needed answers.

The anticipation and anger bottled up inside Marinette the whole way. It was only until the chamber door clicked shut behind them when she finally whirled on her parents, her wedding dress slashing along the sleek floor.

"Why didn't tell you tell me?" The question sounded more like a command, given the heated look in her eyes and the sharpness of her tone.

Sabine was the first to speak, her lip trembling. "We wanted to," she admitted shamefully, "we just... didn't know how to say it."

Marinette's mouth hung open. "Didn't now to say it?" she repeated coldly. "How about "Marinette, you have an older sister". That sounds easy enough."

Tom looked distraught, but he affixed his daughter with that serious-father expression he usually wore whenever Marinette got in trouble. "There's more to this than you realize, Marinette."

She couldn't take it anymore. "Then help me realize it!" she snapped loudly, the words reverberating off the walls. No doubt everyone on this floor had heard that, but Marinette didn't care.

Her chest heaved as she took a long breath and shouted, "Stop sugar-coating this for me! What kind of parents would keep something like this a secret from their own daughter?! Did you even care?! Didn't you think I had a right to know?!"

Sabine turned away, covering her face just as she burst into painful sobs.

Marinette immediately felt a pang of regret, but the hot anger refused to simmer down. She had never snapped in front of her parents before, but she was not a child anymore. And besides, they were the ones who were in trouble now, not her.

Still, the sight of her mother crying made Marinette's own eyes burn. She shouldn't have yelled like that. She wanted to apologise, but her throat was throbbing so much that it was hard to speak anymore.

All she could do was stare down at the dagger that now hung from her father's belt; the family heirloom she had meant to give to Adrien after the wedding.

Marinette had been given the dagger, but it was never hers to be begin with. That honour belonged to Tom and Sabine's true firstborn child.

Bridgette.

Marinette bit her lip, knowing that getting worked up about the dagger would only lead to more questions. Right now, she needed to hear the truth, not the raging voices in her head.

So she sat down on her bed, ignoring the fact that her dress was crinkling now, and she waited.

Then, her mother looked up at her. Her eyes were gleaming like liquid metal. "You did have the right to know, Marinette," Sabine said bravely, "and we did care. We just thought you were better off not knowing."

That made Marinette's face fall. "Better off? What do you mean?"

Tom wrapped an arm around Sabine, and he answered for her. "There's no easier way to say this." He paused for a breath. "Bridgette ran away from home."

The air in Marinette's lungs froze, and suddenly she forgot about being mad. "W-What?"

Her mother wiped her cheeks before beginning. "She was ten. You were only a baby. Times were tough, and we were barely able to get by. The taxers were weighing down on us. Your father and I pushed ourselves to our limits just to keep you both fed." She lowered her gaze and fiddled with her fingernails. "We did everything we could... but it wasn't enough for Bridgette."

Tom sniffled and scratched at his mustache. "She was a bit like you," he told Marinette with a crooked smile. "Spirited, headstrong, and eager to prove herself. Bridgette helped out wherever she could, and she looked after you when we needed her to. But she never stopped dreaming about the life she thought we could have: a life where we would want for nothing. She filled her head with stories and legends she had heard on the streets; tales of treasure and wealth beyond her wildest dreams."

Marinette blinked, painting the picture in her head: the little, blue-haired girl looking up at the sky every night and wishing for a life better than what she had.

Just like me, Marinette thought as her shoulders fell.

"Things eventually got... out of hand," Sabine carried on, her voice faltering. "Bridgette would sneak out her window every night with her dagger. When we put up boards, she snuck over the balcony and climbed down. We told her it was too dangerous for her; to stop living these childish fantasies of hers and stay with her family."

"Then, one night... The last time we saw her..." Sabine swallowed hard. "The last time we saw our little girl, she told us... I've never forgotten..." More tears fell as she continued, "She told us that she was doing this for her family... that she was going to become a hero... that we would have the future we deserved. And then... she was gone."

Marinette found it difficult to breathe again.

Tom hung his head down. "I tried following her," he explained, "but she was quick, and she already knew the streets like the back of her hand. I spent the whole night trying to find her, and the morning after that. I asked around. No one had seen her. No one had heard anything. She just... vanished."

At that moment, Tom sank into a nearby chair and took out the dagger, sheath and all. "When I finally came home..." he blubbered, "her dagger was lying there... on the doorstep..." He stopped and buried his face in his free, broad hand.

Sabine rested her head on her husband's shoulder before eyeballing Marinette. "We never saw Bridgette again," she said. "We thought someone had taken her and left the dagger as a warning. We didn't want to think... that she left it there... just like she left us..."

Marinette shook her head. That can't be true, she thought. She couldn't have done that. She didn't just... leave.

But she had asked for the truth, and her parents had given it to her.

She remembered what she had told Alya about the dagger:

Whatever the reason, somebody had put it there. That day, I realized that there are some acts of real kindness here in Agreste; some people who think more about others than themselves.

What if Bridgette had been the one to give back the dagger? Not out of kindness, but out of contempt for the parents who didn't support her? What if she had left that dagger so she could forget about her life and pursue the adventure, wealth, and glory she always wanted?

"We're sorry we didn't tell you sooner, Marinette," Sabine said. "We feared that, as you grew older, you would be tempted to go out and look for Bridgette, or worse: follow in her footsteps." She sighed and wiped her eyes. "It was selfish of us, I know... and until now, we had no idea whether or not Bridgette was still alive."

Suddenly, Marinette felt so ashamed of herself for being angry with her parents. Of course they had decided not to tell her about Bridgette. What parent would want to speak of the daughter who had abandoned her own family for a foolish, get-rich scheme?

Before she knew it, Marinette launched off the bed and ran up to her parents.

Her father barely had time to look up and see her coming before Marinette threw her arms around him and Sabine. The moment she felt them squeeze her back, the tears finally came.

"I'm sorry too," she whispered. "I never imagined... I had no idea."

Tom pulled away, his eyes glossy and red. "Know this, Marinette," he said. "Not a day went by when we didn't think about your sister; that we didn't pray for Astruc to bring her back to us." He offered a small smile. "And now, it seems our prayers have finally been answered."

Marinette immediately knew what her father was thinking about: Duusu.

The peafowl kwami could tell her anything about Bridgette; where she was, what she was doing, whether or not she was safe and happy. All Marinette had to do was ask.

But...

"Do we... Do we even want her back?"

Sabine's eyes widened with surprise at her daughter's words. "Of course we do, Marinette," she said. "She's our daughter, and your sister."

That bit of anger boiled up again. "But I don't even know her," Marinette stated, "and Bridgette doesn't know me."

Tom placed a hand on her shoulder. "That can change," he assured.

"But what if it can't change?" Marinette sighed, stepping away. "What if she doesn't want to come back? After all, she's the one who left us. Maybe you're right – maybe we are better off without her."

"Marinette!" Sabine gasped.

Their daughter turned away from them, ignoring her instincts to turn back. "I'm just saying," Marinette said bitterly, "why should I bother wasting my question on finding a sister who obviously doesn't want anything to do with me?"

And before her parents could argue any further, Marinette rushed towards the door.

"Uh-oh... Scram!" Trixx hissed.

Three bodies leapt away from Marinette's door. Adrien almost knocked into Nino, who tripped over Alya's foot and flopped against the adjacent wall. Alya herself slipped on her dress and fell to the floor. Plagg chuckled into his paws, as did Trixx. Tikki and Wayzz glanced worryingly between their fallen friends and the door.

But before the group could get back up and get away, Marinette emerged through the threshold.

She paused at the sight of her friends – all of whom were unsubtly trying to act like they were just passing by – but the blunette didn't seem angry or upset with them for eavesdropping.

In fact, she looked like she was tired. Her face was paler than spoiled milk, her eyes were red-rimmed, and her lips were thin and waxy.

Adrien's heart sank at the sight of her. He wanted to take her in his arms at that moment and shower her with love and comfort; anything to make her smile again.

He stepped forward. "Milady?"

"I... Not now, Adrien," Marinette said, her voice thick and scratchy. "I need to be alone for a while. I'm sorry." She turned away, her face the pinnacle of shame and sorrow, and she began the long trek down the hall.

Adrien stared after her petite form, his head urging him to ignore the order and go after his broken-hearted bride. But his heart told him that now was not the time. He continued staring even after Marinette turned a corner and vanished.

Plagg finally broke the silence with a perky sigh. "That actually went better than I thought."

Adrien heard a tiny slap behind him, followed by the black-cat kwami's startled cry of, "Ow!"