"Perhaps sleep would be good thing, yes?" Abbey suggested to her exhausted, emotionally drained friend who lay sprawled on the guest bed moved in beside Abbey's. Of all the creepovers Frankie had attended in her short unlife, this one was by far the quietest. And least enjoyable. After she'd left her prison visit with Holt, gotten into her car and released her remaining frustration in the form of tears, she simply sat there feeling like a wreck and not knowing where to turn next. She didn't want to go home, her parents were already making worst case scenario plans to move her back with them to Germany if the entire Salem monster community went under. Frankie didn't want to discuss it with them, naturally she was dead set against it, and not just because she could barely speak eight words of German. Spending the night with one of her ghoulfriends was the best bet, and for some reason Abbey was the first one to come to mind. Probably because the rest of her friends wore their fear on their sleeves like a new winter line accessory and the last thing Frankie needed was to be surrounded by panic. She was sure Abbey was scared too, but she wouldn't show it. She was like a rock, and right now a rock was what Frankie wanted.
Sure enough, the yeti girl had simply listened patiently while Frankie spilled her guts about her encounter with Holt, and Frankie guessed she must have sounded pathetic enough for Abbey to agree to have her over that night. She lived with Headmistress Bloodgood during the school year, and Frankie had to admit it was a bit odd seeing the Headmistress outside of her formal position at school. She seemed a lot younger, more vibrant and more enthusiastically opinionated away from the stifling office, and without the Board of Deaducation breathing down her back. It was almost like Frankie was watching herself in about twenty years or so, which might have explained why she always felt a sort of fondness for Bloodgood. After a rather loud and heated dinner discussion about the injustice of monster persecution distributed by normies, Frankie felt more tired than ever as she and Abbey retired to their room. But there was no way she was going to be able to sleep tonight, not until she knew for sure what was going to happen to Jackson and Holt.
"Yeah Abbey, sleep would be great," Frankie sighed deeply, her mouth still dry and her eyes still sore from all the crying she'd been doing that day. "I just don't think I'll be able to. Now that I've cleared the air with Holt, all I feel is scared. If he doesn't get a trial, then there really is nothing I can do for him. He'll be executed…" She shook her head, groaning against her pillow. "I'm sorry, Abbey. Here you are offering your hospitality, and here I am repeating myself like a broken record."
"Frankie, you be doing what is needing to be done to survive ordeal," Abbey said, going over to her dresser where a rather ornate icicle night light rested. "I see not ghoul who is bothering me with trivial words of the rambling, but ghoul who is afraid of losing most loved person in her heart and is not wanting to be alone."
"Thanks, Abbey," Frankie smiled her first real smile in hours at her, "You really hit it right on the bolt there."
"Plus am listening to Heath do the rambling today too, so maybe I am used to it," Abbey shrugged. "Have be spending so much time giving comfort to friends today that I not have much time to be thinking about things to myself."
"So are you really going to move back home to the Himalayas?" Frankie asked sadly.
"Am not sure," Abbey's face fell. "If Holt sentenced to worst punishment, then is likely. I do the protesting, but parents are insisting this must be. Are not punishing me, just wanting me close by if unlives are threatened. I am wanting this as well, but...will sadden me to leave Heath and ghoulfriends if I do."
"I know how that is...my parents want to move me away, too." Frankie glanced up curiously at the ornament Abbey was fiddling with, "What is that anyway?"
"Watch." Abbey dimmed the lights in the room and flicked the switch on the faux icicles. Dozens of colored lights shifted and flowed along the ceiling, taking the shape of the Aurora Borealis. "Is the northern lights of my home. I watching them whenever I feeling the distress. Maybe will help you, too."
"They're beautiful, Abbey," Frankie breathed. She'd seen pictures online of course, but it didn't have the same effect as watching a replica. She could only imagine what the real thing was like, a sense of tranquility and peace out in the frigid air. For Frankie, it was a moment of rest from all this stress as she watched the lights dance against the ceiling, imagining that the soft blanket wrapped around her was Jackson's arms keeping her warm as they watched the display together. Maybe someday a long time from now, after the rush from this incident had disapparated, they would actually be able to hold each other like this again. Frankie never liked to think of herself as clingy, but she loved the way Jackson's rather strong embrace made her feel safe and she never wanted to lose that.
Just as she began to close her eyes and drift off, there was a knock on the door and Bloodgood wrenched it open in haste before either of them could invite her in. "Frankie, Abbey, good news! Dracula just called, he said that he and Mr. de Nile were able to guarantee Jackson and Holt a trial on the grounds that he's half normie. It's not a sure thing that he's out of danger, but it's certainly a step in the right direction!"
"Oh my ghoul," Frankie exhaled as if a giant rock had been lifted off her shoulders as Bloodgood surprised both she and Abbey with hugs. "He's getting a trial." It was like she needed to repeat it to herself in order to make sure it was truly happening. But this was no time to just be sitting around thanking her lucky stars, she had work to do in deciding what to say that fateful day in court. Was she sure all of these adult normies would care what some teenage monster had to say? Not at all, but perhaps if she sounded convincing enough she could get them to reduce Holt's sentence. Frankie had had to say plenty of flowery persuasive words in the past, but those were on a whim. She was going to have to really give this one a lot of thought.
"This is very good thing," Abbey smiled as widely as she could, grabbing her phone from the dresser where it was charging. "Must tell family in Himalayas."
"Frankie, could I talk to you for a minute alone?" Bloodgood asked quietly once Abbey had dialed the number and covered her other ear so she could talk without distraction. Frankie nodded and stood to follow the Headmistress out into the hallway, keeping the blanket wrapped around her as a comfort.
"What is it?" she asked, shuffling her feet nervously. Was there some sort of catch to this whole thing? She should have known it was too good to be true.
"Frankie, don't think I don't know that your wheels are turning."
"My - my what are what?"
"You're planning to take the stand at the trial," Bloodgood stated firmly, pointing directly into her face. "I know that look in your eyes, that look you have whenever you resolve to take matters into your own hands."
"I - well, I was-" Frankie honestly didn't know how to respond. She had a look? Why didn't anyone tell her? Was that a bad thing?
"I admire your spirit, child," Bloodgood went on, taking Frankie by the shoulders. "I confess I see much of myself in you when I was your age. And because of that, I know I cannot stop you from doing this. But I also know that you tend to be extremely reckless, and I'm warning you now...this is the law we're talking about. Holt has done something ghastly and is being charged fairly for it. Tread lightly."
"Headmistress, I'm just going to do what I always do," Frankie found the strength in her voice once more as she stared her down. "Tell them what I know in my heart is right." There was silence for a moment, apart from Abbey speaking rapid Yetish in the room beside them. Then Bloodgood reached up and ran an affectionate hand along the top of Frankie's head.
"I implore you, Frankie, just be careful," she said gently, "Don't do anything that will cause him more harm than good. The court date is the 24th, so I advise you to fully prepare yourself until that time."
"The 24th?" Frankie's heart tugged a little. "As in, Christmas Eve?"
"An unfortunate side effect," Bloodgood nodded, hearing Abbey hang up her phone in the bedroom. "Remember, tread lightly." She gave Frankie's shoulders a squeeze before heading back around the corner out of sight, leaving Frankie alone in the hall. It was more than about just saving her boyfriend now, it seemed that she had the entire future of monsterkind resting on her testification. Whether she succeeded or, heaven forbid, not, nothing about this was going to be easy. But she had to do it if only so she could say, without a guilty conscience, that she had given it her all.
"This is not looking good, ghouls," Clawdeen shook her head dismally, and as Frankie nervously fisted the hem of the plainest, neatest skirt she could find in her closet, she had to admit her werewolf friend seemed right. The morning of the 24th dawned cold and grey, hopefully not an indicator of things to come, and Frankie had entered the courtroom early with her parents, parting with them to sit with her ghouls as they went to convene with the other monster parents. The normie who had fallen victim to Holt didn't have his shortage of supporters in the hall either, as she caught the eyes of several presumed relatives and friends eyeing Frankie's own friends and family, some with complete and utter disgust. One thing she had predicted had already come true: This was going to be hard. Not just in trying lessen Holt's sentence, but in trying to do so without letting any glares or comments thrown at her or any other monster rattle her.
This hadn't been too difficult for Frankie to manage, being rather upbeat and friendly by default. It was when Holt had entered the courtroom escorted by two policemen that her optimism wavered jarringly. Many of the normie adults and children alike made very obvious, loudly whispered comments in his direction, calling him things that almost made Frankie jump out of her seat in fury. But Abbey and Draculaura kept their hands firmly clamped to her arms so she wouldn't do anything of the sort, and remained there as a comfort when Frankie's and Holt's gazes met. Frankie had only seen Holt look like this once before, when it was announced he was receiving the Trick or Treatment last Halloween. He looked so frightened, confused, desperate to find any way to take back what he had done, and it devastated Frankie so horribly that she nearly lost any spirit she had left in her. He was pleading for her to help him, and in lacking any guarantee that she could, she only felt like she was disappointing him. And now, as Heath was called up to the stand as a witness, the gravity of this day, these next couple of hours, was pressing in on all of them. Half of this courtroom was going to go home happy, the other half feeling robbed, cheated, angry and wounded by despair. Whatever Frankie did today, it was certainly not going to please everyone.
"And you're certain the defendant had no ill intentions towards his victim upon entering the parking lot?" the prosecuting lawyer asked Heath, who fidgeted nervously in his seat.
"Nah, he wouldn't on purpose," the fire elemental responded quietly. "He just wanted what he was owed."
"And would have acquired it by any means necessary?"
"Hey look, Holt's got a temper problem, okay? It runs in my family, all us fire elementals have a kinda short fuse." Heath glanced out towards the audience at Abbey, who gave him a slight nod in encouragement. "He wouldn't kill anyone on purpose. He didn't kill him on purpose."
"Thank you Mr. Burns, that's all I need," the prosecutor said dismissively, and Heath looked a bit stunned that he'd only spent a total of ten minutes on the bench. It was almost as if the prosecution wanted to get this over with as quickly as possible. During the lull between witnesses, Frankie heard the faint clicking of keyboard keys behind her. She whirled around to see an excited Spectra Vondergeist tapping eagerly away at her laptop, a wide smile on her face, and Frankie felt her electrical current crackle. The infamous author of The Ghostly Gossip didn't seem to care about Jackson and Holt's unlives or what could happen to them, she just wanted the scoop so her blog would get more hits. Even though the ghost girl wasn't looking in her direction, Frankie still shot her the dirtiest look she could muster.
"The prosecution calls Operetta to the stand." Several heads whipped around as the deep redheaded phantom stood from the back of the room and walked slowly down the aisle up to the stand. No one had seen her since Holt's arrest, and contrary to the emotional mess most were expecting, Operetta looked completely calm and collected. Frankie was almost jealous of her tough exterior, until she saw how sad her eyes were as she drew closer to where she sat. Maybe she had simply bawled herself into a state of numbness like Frankie had, and it was enough to make her reach out and grasp Operetta's fingertips as she passed. The southern belle returned the grip briefly before letting go to mount the stand and take the oath. Most of the questions were the same as the ones Heath had been asked, and all of Operetta's responses were the same, until they reached the inquiry "Had you ever seen Mr. Hyde exhibit this sort of behavior before?"
Operetta hesitated, lowering her eyes to her lap. "Yeah, I have."
"Could you tell the court the approximate point in time you remember this occurring?"
"I went out with him once on a date to a club over a year ago," the phantom began slowly. "He beat up on this gargoyle all because he ran into me and didn't apologize sincerely."
"I see..."
"He didn't kill the guy, just punched him and got us kicked out!" Operetta clarified hastily, looking around the courtroom with wide eyes. "I'd never seen him rough anyone up that bad until the night two weeks ago at the gig! I swear!"
"But he is known for this type of aggression?"
"Y-yeah I guess..." Operetta trailed off, glancing at Holt in the defendant's chair with the most heartfelt apologetic look on her face.
"That's all I have, your honor."
"Wait, I ain't done yet!" Operetta yelled, her eyebrows knitting together in anger as she was forced to step down from the bench. As she stomped back up the aisle, she stopped at where Frankie sat, her eyes softening into complete and utter defeat. "I'm sorry, Frankie," she whispered, and Frankie jumped up from her seat to hug her tightly.
"It's not your fault," Frankie soothed as they held onto the embrace for several moments before breaking apart. "You did what you could." Filled with compassion, she watched the phantom retreat sadly back to her seat in the rear.
"Are there no more witnesses for the defense?" Frankie whirled around, her still heart leaping into her mouth. This was it…
"You honor," began the mummy hired by Cleo's father to represent Holt, "I have no-"
"Wait!" The word exploded from Frankie's mouth before she had a moment to think, and the audience as a unit turned in her direction. Everyone besides her closest ghoulfriends was looking at her as if she'd grown another head. All except for Bloodgood, whose narrowed gaze whispered the repetitive "Tread lightly" and Frankie's parents, who looked like they were fighting against every whim they had to physically grab their daughter and drag her from the courtroom.
"Your honor, if you please," Frankie began politely after a deep collecting breath, scooting past Abbey out of the bench and heading up the aisle, her four-inch heels echoing in the now silent hall. "I would like to say a few words on the defendant's behalf."
"Objection, your honor!" the prosecutor roared, looking more than irritated that this trial would be going on longer than he anticipated.
"On what grounds?" the aging judge asked from his pulpit, rubbing his left eye tiredly.
"She's romantically affiliated with the defendant, her opinion will be based on nothing but bias!"
"I promise you it won't," Frankie said a bit louder once she approached the front of the pulpit. Her gaze traveled from the prosecutor to the judge, and she smiled sweetly. "You can make me take the oath if you want."
"I figure we'd better, just to be safe," the judge agreed, gesturing for Frankie to approach the bench. "I will allow her to say what she has to." The prosecutor didn't hide that he was thoroughly miffed as Frankie placed her firmly stitched right hand on the Bible and held up her left one. After swearing to tell the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth to the best of her knowledge, she finally sat at the witness stand. Now she could get a full view of the courtroom, and immediately her bolts sparked a bit. Half of the faces were judgemental and annoyed, the others scared for her yet behind her all the same. Beside the defending lawyer, she saw Holt grinning and giving her a thumbs up as if to say "You got this, Frankie Fine. Do your thang."
"What is your name, dear?" the judge asked.
"Frances Stein. Everyone calls me Frankie." She heard a snort of laughter and a hiss of "Frances?!" before Abbey shot ice from her index finger over her shoulder to glue Heath's lips together.
"What is your relation to the defendant, Frankie?"
"I'm his ghou - er, girlfriend."
"And you have something to say in his defense?"
"Not exactly in his defense," Frankie said slowly, leaning forward as her confidence began to return to her. "I don't think there's a doubt in anyone's mind that what Holt Hyde ultimately did was...despicable." The word seemed to be both fact for the monster side and cruelly blunt enough for the normies against him, which was precisely why Frankie chose it. "Despite what his intentions were, if any, he did kill someone. And any kill, even accidental, deserves to be punished." There were nods and murmurs of agreement, while Holt's smile morphed into absolute horror, his red eyes screaming "What are you doin'?!"
"But to immediately jump to execution, simply because he's a monster? That's where I, and I'm sure many others here, take issue." Her gaze found Sydney Jekyll sitting between Viveka and Mrs. Burns, clutching at her hands in her lap as she stared anxiously back at Frankie. Her eyes reflected the same emotional numbness Frankie's did that could only be the result of hours of a heart bleeding out for the one she loved most. "We may be monsters, but we're not a threat." The sheriff, who made his appearance more for the spectacle than anything, let out a hearty laugh that earned a sharp glare from Frankie. "We do not run around targeting normies as murder victims. That's a myth made up by normie movies to make the world fear our parents and ancestors by exaggerating and twisting the facts of our true heritages."
"So she says!" the prosecutor cut in.
"I took the oath, didn't I?!" Frankie shouted, springing from her seat and gripping the edges of the table to keep her sparking bolts under control. She caught Bloodgood shaking her head at her out the corner of her eye, and Frankie gingerly sat back down. "My father is a brilliant mad scientist, not the unintelligible hulk who kills villagers who don't accept him. Count Dracula doesn't drink the blood of people who are still alive, The Phantom doesn't murder people in opera houses, and Holt is not the manifestation of pure evil! He inherited the curse, but it's not the same for him. He and Jackson Jekyll share traits, words, emotions, they coexist together. And they are incredible at it." It was the first time she had ever really said aloud how proud she was that they worked so hard to cooperate with their differences, and it made tears spring to her eyes as she found Holt's gaze again. She swallowed hard, "This was a special case. I wasn't there when this all took place, but I think the accounts of the witnesses speak for themselves. Holt's temper is a problem, and it needs to be dealt with. But not in such a way that is so...final. We all, every one of us here, have people we love and hold dearly. We wouldn't want to see them snatched from us so suddenly. This kill was accidental, it could have been prevented. But it was not intentional, and shouldn't be treated by the court as such. This instance will change my relationship with him forever. But it won't kill it. I've forgiven him because I know he's truly sorry for what he did, and will never do it again. I know all of you are capable of doing the same."
It was so quiet one could've heard a pin drop, and Frankie's heels against the marble floor sounded especially loud as she stood from the bench. "That's all I had to say, your honor." Swiping at the corners of her eyes, she made her way back to her seat where Abbey stood to let her back in the bench.
"Good work," the yeti girl rumbled under her breath.
"Way to go, Frankie," Draculaura whispered, her own eyes swimming with tears.
"That was truly golden," Cleo placed a hand on her shoulder from the seat behind, Deuce nodding his approval beside her.
The short recess seemed to take no time at all, at least to Frankie. Her head was still spinning over what had just happened, the fact that she'd spoken in a court of law trying to convince a bunch of normies not to kill her boyfriend. Had it worked? She really couldn't tell. The fact that most everyone, save the prosecutor and the sheriff, considered her words worthy to listen to already spoke volumes. Both her parents and Bloodgood wore unreadable expressions, but neither of them were disapproving ones thankfully. What mattered most to her now, though, was whether she had convinced the judge. She hoped with everything inside her that in a few moments, the worst he could announce was a lifetime in prison.
"In the case of the State of Oregon versus Holt Hyde, the court has reached a verdict," the judge announced. Out the corner of her eye, Frankie caught sight of the sheriff leaning against the wall, a slight grin on his face. That didn't feel like a good sign…
"This court finds Mr. Hyde guilty of manslaughter and will be sentenced to…"
Frankie felt the ghouls on either side of her clutch her hands tightly. No one breathed.
"Capital punishment by electric chair."
"What?!" screamed a voice that didn't belong to Frankie. Cleo had apparently tried to fling herself aggressively up the aisle, but was restrained by Deuce. Everyone had stood at once. Normies were cheering and exclaiming with relief. Sydney had thrust her face into her hands, her sobs echoing through the hall. Heath pushed through the crowd to find Abbey and she pulled him into her arms once they made contact. Clawd's face was hardened into absolute fury as he cradled Draculaura's weeping frame. Even Spectra seemed to freeze in mid-type, her jaw hanging open as she hovered above them all.
Frankie hadn't moved. She didn't think she was physically capable of moving. After all of that...and they hadn't retained a word of it...they didn't even care. It was as if someone had slapped a Dead End sign in front of her face, making her unable to take even one step forward. The only face that was clear in her line of vision was Holt's. The sheriff wasted no time in hauling him back up the aisle into his police escort, the DJ looking as if his entire world was crashing down around him. His head turned to look down at Frankie, still glued to her seat, and their eyes met. He mouthed "I love you." Which was all it took for Frankie to finally snap inside.
"No!" Frankie climbed over the back of the bench in an attempt to follow Holt out the door, but he was too far ahead. This couldn't be it. This couldn't be the last time she was ever going to see him. It wasn't fair. "Holt! Holt!"
"Frankie, don't do it!" she heard Clawdeen shout, she and Clawd grabbing her from behind. "It's done. It's over. You did what you could." She was right. Frankie had done all she could, and it wasn't enough. If she put her mind to it, it was always enough! Why hadn't it been enough?!
"Frankie, come." A much stronger, beefier hand pulled her backward and she crashed into her father's tall, stately frame.
"I can't, I have to follow him," Frankie breathed heavily in panic, trying to escape her mother's slender arms that had wrapped around her firmly. "They're - they're going to-"
"I know my darling, come here," Viveka pulled her along until they were out the side door, Viktor revving up the automatic start on the car. "Come now, we'll take you home."
"Please Mom, just let me be with him-"
"They won't let you be with him," Viktor shook his head, opening the back door and Frankie clumsily tumbled inside. Hearing him slam the door shut, Frankie felt a sudden sense of terminality overtake her. It really was all over. She hadn't even been able to tell Holt goodbye.
Hugging herself as she retreated into complete and utter hopelessness, she curled up into a ball on the backseat of her parents' car and burst into tears. Neither her mother nor father said a word to her from the front seats during the ride home, and only spoke when Frankie asked for their response several long minutes later.
"I really messed up, didn't I? You're so disappointed in me, aren't you?"
"No, Frankie," Viveka said in a choked voice, reaching around the back of the seat to hold Frankie's hand. "You were wonderful."
"We couldn't be prouder of the way you conducted yourself back there," Viktor said warmly, glancing at Frankie's puffy washed out face in the rearview mirror. "We're just so sorry it didn't convince the people who mattered."
If Jackson and Holt were going to die, the least Frankie could do was keep the promise she'd made to Jackson that night that felt like an eternity ago. Which was why she found herself on Mrs. J's doorstep late that afternoon, knocking timidly on the door. At first she had felt that coming over like this would be an intrusion upon Mrs. J's grief, until Frankie realized that she was grieving as well. Maybe it would do them both some good to be in each other's company. After a minute, the door opened and a rundown, frazzled Sydney Jekyll slowly peered out onto the porch.
"Frankie?" she inquired, wiping the corners of her red teary eyes with a used tissue. "What are you doing here?"
"I needed to see you," Frankie replied, her throat tightening at seeing how heartbroken her boyfriend's mother was. "To make sure you were okay."
"Come on in," Sydney opened the door wider to let her in. "Don't mind the mess."
"What m-?" Her words turned into a gasp when she entered the front room. It looked as if someone had broken in, yet rather it seemed that these things were deliberately wrecked. The mirror that hung in the front hall was shattered on the floor, shards of glass littering the walkway to the living room. Clothes and kitchen dishes had been flung here and there, newspapers had been torn to shreds, and the couch cushions had been thrown onto the carpet, which was wet from the broken flower vase. "Oh my ghoul! What happened in here?"
"It was-" Sydney began, hastily picking up the cushions and tucking them back into the couch. "Well, it was Hyde."
Frankie's mouth fell open, "You-"
"I couldn't help it," Sydney sniffled as she took her cateye glasses off, trying to stem the flood of tears leaking out with her crumpled tissue. "I normally don't lose control like this. But it suddenly hit me like a bulldozer that my son had been sentenced to death and...I just flared up. I only came back into myself about a half an hour ago." She sat down on the reassembled couch and invited Frankie to sit beside her, to which she danced around the broken glass on the floor to oblige. "I should have called to see how you were, but I was so out of sorts."
"No no, it's fine, you didn't have to," Frankie said quickly, reaching for the box of tissues and handing them to her. She took a chance and reached for Mrs. J's hand as she took a minute to dry her face.
"That was beautiful," Sydney said with a slight smile at Frankie, "what you said in the courtroom."
"Thank you," Frankie nodded. "I just wish it'd made a difference."
"They're minds were made up the moment they arrested him," Sydney muttered angrily. "I knew it. They weren't going to listen to any sort of reason because half of them don't believe we're capable of reason. At least you and both my boys got to make amends before all of this came to pass."
"Yeah, that's why I came." Frankie tried to talk over the giant lump forming in her throat, but it was becoming increasingly difficult. "I sort of promised Jackson last week, that night I came over and we talked in his room, that I'd take care of you. I mean, not that you can't take care of yourself, but that I would look after you if...if anything h-happened to him." The tears spilled out hot and fast and Frankie covered her face with her hands, her bolts beginning to spark as the salty drops made contact. "I'm sorry!" she burst out in a sob, feeling thoroughly ashamed for losing it like this in front of someone who needed to cry way more than she did. "I just - I - I don't know what I'm g-going to do without h-him!"
She was right. It was better to grieve along with someone else than alone in her room. When Mrs. J pulled her close right then, Frankie could feel her chest heaving with racking sobs, making the sorrow deep inside her well up to the surface as it shattered her heart into a million pieces. They clung to each other for what must have been a very long time, and by the time Frankie felt herself regaining control, she could feel Jackson's mother stroking her hair much like her own mother did.
"You really love him," Mrs. J stated in a warm, albeit wavering, motherly tone. "I can tell by how deeply you felt just now. Those weren't petty teenage girl tears."
"I do," Frankie whimpered, taking some of the tissues for herself. "I do love him. Both of...him."
"And in such a short amount of time," Sydney mused, shaking her head. "Three months or so, right?"
"I don't think it just happened when we became official," Frankie went on. "I - I've always cared about him, wanted to be there for him, help him no matter what it took. And Jackson and Holt have made me so happy in return, and feel so special in a way no other guy has ever done to me before."
"You know ever since he met you, if I even mentioned your name, Jackson would blush bright red," Sydney reminisced, and Frankie half-giggled, half-hiccuped. "From that first day, he had his heart set on you, and I couldn't have been happier just from the way you've made him feel." She stopped as if a thought had just occurred to her and she got up from the couch, "Wait here, I'll be right back." Frankie watched her leave around the corner, her footsteps echoing further down the hall to where she knew Jackson's room was. A few minutes later she reappeared holding a small box, giftwrapped in red with an emerald green ribbon.
"What's this?" Frankie asked hesitantly. By the square shape of the box, the heftiness that its contents contained another protective case, she had an idea of what it could have been. But how had-?
"Jackson...bought it for you the day before everything fell apart," Sydney explained. "He had me help pay for the rest of it." Frankie bit her lip hard as she tore the paper off the box, took the case out of the box, and with a shaking hand opened the case. Of course it was. Of course it was-
"The necklace," Frankie nodded, pressing a hand to her mouth. "The one Holt was trying to save up to get me." The one that started everything because she had been ogling it like a silly schoolgirl. The same diamond-studded choker, the silver lightning bolt pendant that still, as Frankie turned the charm around, spelled out the words "You've pierced my heart" in tiny cursive letters. A small card rested underneath it, and Frankie let out a sob as she read it: You've lit up our unlives by just being you. We love you so much. Love JJ and HH.
"It's from both of them," Frankie barely managed to whisper.
"If there's one thing they've been able to agree on," Sydney rested a hand on her shoulder as Frankie tremblingly lifted the necklace from the case, "it's how much they care about you." Frankie clipped the necklace around her neck, where it rested just below her neck stitches and bolts. It couldn't have been a better fit.
"It's from one person, not two separate guys," Frankie glanced down at the charm, holding it between her thumb and index finger. "That's the best gift they could have ever given me."
And all of a sudden, Frankie wasn't sad anymore. She was mad. One hundred percent ticked off. She didn't cry again, but wanted to scream or fling something across the room like Mrs. J had. She had never ever felt such rage before, not even towards Holt when he lied to her. Because now she was angry at something much bigger than herself or her boyfriend. She was angry at fate. The law. The future she now had to face without him in it. The sentence he didn't deserve that would be enacted early the next day. Christmas Day. What kind of world had Frankie been thrust into that could do so many ghastly things?!
"We had talked that day," Sydney was still speaking, but Frankie was only half-listening over the ringing in her ears, the crackling of the stirred electrical current that flowed within her, "about what we would do to solve this. I knew the best thing was to move again, get as far away from here as we possibly could."
Frankie's head snapped up, "Get...get away?"
"Jackson didn't want to, he said he couldn't bear to leave you behind-"
The wheels were turning again, loosened from the restraint of dejection, the belief that there was no other way to prevent this awful death sentence from happening. But there was, and Mrs. J had just said it.
"We'd change our names, create whole new identities, move to the furthest place from Salem that we could-"
It was so obvious Frankie couldn't believe she hadn't thought of it before. It was perfect, the absolute perfect solution. She just needed to be able to pull it off. She couldn't do it alone, that was for sure.
"It would have just been a matter of concealing ourselves. Dracula has connections to make it happen, he's had to countless times for other monsters-"
Bingo.
"Mrs. J, I'm sorry but I have to go," Frankie said in haste, leaping up from the couch and bounding to the door.
"Frankie?" Sydney asked concernedly, following her to the door. "What's the matter with you?"
"Don't worry about me," Frankie said as she wrenched the door open. "I'll be back to see you tomorrow. It'll be okay. Believe me, it's going to be okay."
"What on earth are you-?"
"Trust me," Frankie emphasized, flinging her scarf around her neck, feeling the necklace charm nestling itself effortlessly into her collarbone. "I'll come by tomorrow." And without another word, she rushed outside across the snowy grass to the driveway where her car was parked. She had already jabbed her thumb against Draculaura's contact in her iCoffin by the time she reached the driver's seat and started the engine up.
"Hello?" said the high-pitched voice on the other end.
"I need your help."
"Frankie? Is everything alright?"
"Listen Draculaura, I need you to do something for me. And I need you to do it fast."