Lincoln's visit to the police station was short. They were released practically upon arrival. Lucy immediately cracked under pressure and admitted to lying. The police didn't tell them what, if anything, she would get for it, but at least they were free to leave.
While waiting for the bus to get back to the retirement home, Lincoln had a lot of time to think. What Lucy did hurt him. He thought they had a special bond compared to other sisters. Both were black sheep in their own rights and that made it that much easier to relate in a house full of such different people. But now, she was the same as all of them. Did she always hate him like that? Better question, did they all hate him that much? For how long? They certainly had their ups and downs, but he never got the idea anyone hated anybody else. But now... now he was clearly proven wrong.
Lynn did as Lynn does. Lola and Lana were most certainly behind all the stolen stuff in his locker. If he had to guess, Luan or Lisa, or likely both, messed with the security footage. Everyone else got their friends to spread whatever rumor they could about him. And Lucy came with a final blow. It was no accident she did it. They knew she was closest to him; she knew it. They want to cut him and salt his wounds. Out of revenge? Out of sadism? Out of anger? Out of all of them? Who was to say? One thing was for certain however, they wouldn't end, especially not now that Lucy didn't go through with the plan.
If he didn't want to be on the receiving end of another allegation, or a gun, he needed to act quick. He was alone and with limited resources. Whatever he wanted to do, it had to be big and deceive. Anything else, and he would have just provoked the bear further. Just how is he supposed to do that on a budget?
"Hey, sweetie..." Rita brought Lincoln out of his thoughts.
"Yes, mom?" Lincoln looked at her with mixed opinions. Did they attack him because of her, because he is her son, and only her?
"I'm sorry for earlier, in the school. I shouldn't have doubted you would never do something like that, not even for a moment."
"Mom, it's okay... you didn't accuse me or anything, so there is no harm." Lincoln said.
"But I didn't stand up for you either and I'm... I'm sorry for that." Rita came closer to Lincoln and hugged him. "I know that everything happening right now is scary and confusing, but I want you to know I am here for you. If anything is bothering you or you just need to talk, I will always be there, okay?"
"Yeah." Lincoln said.
As hopeful as Lincoln wanted to be, optimism wasn't on the menu of whatever weaved his destiny. At the retirement home, they were greeted by an eviction notice in the form of their grandfather waiting with their bags. Apart from the rumors they spread about him, his "sisters", also spread some about his mother. If they were willing to make him out to be a rapist for doing nothing, he didn't want to know what they said about his mother. The retirement home could never have been their home, the allegations just made that happen sooner. However, now they were in a troubled position. It was safe to say no hotel or motel would take them, which left them with one option, one Lincoln dreaded just as much if not more than being homeless, Aunt Ruth.
There was nothing wrong with Aunt Ruth's house. Credit where credit is due, the house was actually better than theirs, which isn't a high bar to clear but is a bar. Lincoln hated to say what the problem was, it made him feel like a spoiled brat, but the problem was Aunt Ruth. She was a cat lady, and an especially disgusting one at that. She had a million cats, food from the Second World War, and feet so gross it's a miracle they hadn't fallen off - and massaging them was not a question. Even the one upside, the house not falling apart, was undermined by it being rustic. There was nothing wrong with that on its own. He himself couldn't deny he found older styles appealing in some ways. There, however, was a big difference between a house made to look like it is stuck in the 1970s, and a house that hasn't been cleaned out since the 1970s.
But whatever his beliefs and preferences were, it was Aunt Ruth or nothing and when faced with that option, he would much rather at least try.
His new room was significantly bigger than his old one. He would have to share it with a cat, or five, or twenty if they felt like it, but it was the price of the arrangement. At the very least, there were no litterboxes or stains on the floor, the smell was there, however, it was in the entire house. He had a bed, a desk, and a closet, as well as a pile of boxes and junk Ruth told him not to touch and some cat toys. Lincoln didn't know if it was Ruth's warning or the nature of his situation, but he felt an urge to look through that pile. Who knows, there might be something interesting in there, maybe even food that was only thrice his age. And hey, if that one had nothing, one of the others was bound to.
The rest of the house was what one would expect from a normal house, excusing the aesthetics. A living room, a kitchen, a bathroom, some bedrooms, an attic, and a yard. Yard, he could immediately tell was going to be his problem in the near future. As for the rest of the neighborhood, it wasn't anything special. It had a more of a retiree feel to it, probably due to all the seniors in it, but a few younger people were still around. Lincoln wanted to remain hopeful some of them were homeschooled, because otherwise the following times were going to be lonely.
There, however, was one thing that was a pure positive. The thing that played the biggest factor in him being willing to give this a chance. It was closer to his school. Even within walking distance, at a bit of a quicker pace but still, Lincoln was almost certain even running from the retirement home to school would be preferable to a bus ride.
When they arrived, Lincoln skipped unpacking and went straight to planning his next moves. He quickly conducted a survey of his inventory. Quickly, it became clear he was screwed. He had nothing but the clothes on his back and in his bag. He also had no allies. His mother would be against him seeking "revenge" or any word he chose to frame it as and his grandfather would be much the same and he had little hope of Aunt Ruth being of much help. Who could he ask then? His friends were a no-show, new friends would be hard to come by, and he couldn't pay anyone to help because naked he had maybe twenty dollars. Maybe Flip would be willing to lend a hand for that, or less.
What is he to do then? He can't charge into battle with a stick he finds in a park, and he doesn't have a lot of time to earn money. What does he even want to do? He needs something big. After what they did to him, that goes without saying, but what? He lost any trust he previously had, so spreading rumors would be hard, maybe even impossible if they are actively working to prevent it. What if he had enough evidence that his claims were irrefutable? The problem there is how to choose. It was a public secret that they kept black mail on each other, just in case. Between the eleven of them, one was bound to have something heinous enough to smother someone in tar and feathers for months. But the problem was getting it. Not just because he would have to sneak into the house, but because the chances of the evidence still being there would be close to zero. If they went on an offensive, it means they probably burned most of their archives, or hid them better at the very least. But, maybe, just maybe, if he was to find something he could deal a devastating enough blow. Maybe, he could even clear his name.
That thought, however, didn't sit right with Lincoln. They did a lot as a family and a good chunk of it was questionably moral at best. However, was any of it good enough? He needed to remember that he had to make sure his mother was out of the crossfire, and that would be difficult to pull off. If the kids act poorly, some fault will fall on the parents, and if the kids act terribly enough, enough blame will be placed on the parents to remove them from the picture. He thought long and hard, but nothing he remembered fitted the need he had. He couldn't go in with a shopping mindset. If he snuck into the house, he was going in for a specific thing and had to be out of there as soon as possible.
Was there such an event? Something that would destroy the credibility of his "sisters", while repairing his reputation, and leaving his mother unaffected. Maybe a record of them plotting to slander him, but the only way a record of that existed was if Lisa made it, and anything Lisa had would be stored behind security he couldn't pass. What was he to do then? He went back to thinking, wondering what else he could do to hurt them? He wondered what they loved the most. Each other, their father, their friends, their hobbies, their possessions? Certainly, a quick pillage could do a lot of damage, but it would rile them up too much. What was it that they were afraid of the most? That is when he realized.
When they attacked him, they created what they would fear the most. Not him, he wasn't that scary even at his worst. They turned themselves into a beast. A beast that lashes out at all it perceives to be a threat and annihilates them. And what does that beast believe to be the biggest treat now? Him, a bastard.
That was his key to winning. If he could prove, or even just trick them into believing one of their own was actually an imposter, he could wreak havoc on their war machine. He could play whoever it was like a fiddle. And how could she refuse? If she didn't do what he asked, he would just tell everyone else the truth, and then she would incur the rath of the beast. Who knows, if he is lucky enough, he could get the beast to eat itself up over it. And, if it proved to be true, he might still have a sister, he might have more.
One thought was stopping his hopes however, and that was that Lisa probably checked for that possibility already. Did she hide the truth then, choosing him as the sacrificial lamb for whatever her true end goal was. And she thought those puppy eyes could work. Doesn't show her emotions? Bull crap! That little psycho could fake them for the show. But what if she was genuine? There was only one way to find out, a thought that both scared and invigorated him.
He would need help for that, however, but that brought him to the starting problem, he was working alone, with nothing. Usually, he had many people he could relied on in situations like these, but even thinking of the restraints working alone placed on him made him appreciate them that much more. And out of all of them, none more than Clyde. For a best friend, he was really quick to jump the ship. Despite that, he couldn't really blame him. If he heard similar rumors about Clyde, he wouldn't be as eager to be around him either, but he wouldn't abandon him. Why did Clyde do that then? Lincoln couldn't deny, he and Clyde were alike in many ways, but they were still different people. Mainly, Clyde was scared more easily.
"That's it!" Lincoln said aloud. Clyde didn't abandon him; he was just scared away. It was somewhat of a stretch, but if he was right it would mean he's not alone, and that changes everything. Even with just Clyde, his odds of success would increase greatly. Now he just needed to find a way to tell Clyde everything he heard was a lie. He heard everything from everyone but Lincoln, about something Lincoln would have all the incentives to lie about. It was a long shot, to say the very least, but Lincoln didn't know if he had a shorter one. He didn't have his phone, Clyde wouldn't answer a call from an unknown caller, and everyone else would tell him off if he asked to speak to Clyde. This left him with only one option, he would need to go to Clyde directly and speak with him in person.
Lincoln looked out the window. He didn't have a better plan, and he doubted he could come up with anything with what he currently had at his disposal. Going to Clyde was his only option, and so he went.
I named the chapters. I don't know what else to say. Thank you to Saccharine Melody for helping proofread this chapter and thank you to everyone who read.