AN: Thank you so much for the reviews! It makes my day so much better to read how much you like this story :) This chapter is a beast and I simply must thank my amazing beta for all their hard work. Thank you, thank you, thank you!
On to the drama!
Rachel wasn't sure how long they stood at the front door – neither able to take their eyes off the doorbell, or summon the courage necessary to push it. Behind the imposing dark wood, she could hear the rumble of conversation and the loud thump of feet on stairs. She took in a deep breath, held it for ten seconds, and then let it out in a rush, cheeks puffing out with the effort. "Quinn, do you want me to?"
"No, I've got it." Quinn shook her head, bit her lip, and punched the doorbell. Didn't poke it, or press it with her thumb – she punched it. Albeit gently, but the gesture still made Rachel cringe. She gripped Quinn's hand tighter, tan fingers clutching at pale ones, and wrapped her other hand around Quinn's bicep. The chime of the doorbell seemed ridiculously loud – Rachel thought she should perhaps mention it to Quinn's mother. Honestly, it wasn't polite to frighten already terrified guests with such loud noises. She did appreciate how melodic it was though, despite the volume, and couldn't help but hum the pitches back.
Quinn quirked an eyebrow down at her and Rachel immediately ceased her humming. Grinning weakly, she shrugged her shoulders and shuffled her feet against the welcome mat. "Sorry, nervous habit."
The door opened before Quinn could reply; her jaw snapped shut with an audible click and she went completely stiff as Judy flew out and tightly embraced her.
"Quinn!"
Reluctantly, Rachel released Quinn and backed away to stay out of the reunion. It gave her a chance to study Judy a little more anyway, not that she'd ever admit to 'sizing up' her girlfriend's mother, like she was a threat she needed to assess. She just wanted to watch how they interacted. Rachel could go on and on about her fathers, much like she could with any topic really, but Quinn rarely spoke of her parents; when she did she was short and very quiet. Quinn's reticence to speak about her family was certainly understandable. She figured it had to do with her memories of being pregnant and homeless during their sophomore year. If she was completely honest, even just with herself, Rachel wasn't a huge fan of Judy already. Quinn being cast aside reminded her a little too much of Shelby.
She shivered and shoved those thoughts away just in time to see Judy let Quinn go.
"And you must be Rachel," Judy said, her smile slightly too wide. Her face looked like it might crack any second.
Rachel wondered if Judy would cry later when they wouldn't be able to see or hear it.
"Yes Ma'am, Rachel Berry. It's very nice to make your acquaintance." She held out her hand and put on her very best stage smile. Quinn's was the only genuine one out of the three of them, Rachel could tell because it wasn't a full smile, and it was directed right at her.
Judy shook her hand limply, warm fingers barely slipping into Rachel's palm before they were gone again. "It's so nice of you to come with Quinn."
"Of course," Rachel reached out and took Quinn's hand back, the pressure in her chest easing considerably with the simple action.
"Well, Quinn, I've set up your old bedroom for you and I wasn't sure where Rachel – "
"Rachel stays with me, Mom." Quinn met her mother's wide eyes calmly and ignored the blush dusting Judy's cheeks.
"That's – That'll work out fine then. We've got a full house." Judy opened the door wide and gestured for them to go ahead into the foyer. "Your Uncle Phillip is here, and Aunt Norah and Lidia with their families."
"The triplets are here?" Quinn asked. Rachel glanced up at her, then around the spacious foyer. It was the first time she'd ever set foot in the Fabray home; she couldn't deny that she was curious. Seated on couches and chairs in the room to their right, Quinn's family stopped talking and Rachel could feel eyes on them. Not the same way that she felt when paparazzi took her photo, or when fans saw her, or even when she was on stage. This sensation wasn't warm, or annoying - it felt slimy, like she was being judged. It was hard not to turn her face into Quinn's shoulder and hide. Neither of them were strangers to discrimination, Rachel had dealt with it growing up and being a public figure. Quinn had a different experience, less public for sure, but no less difficult. Feeling it from family was going to be harder, for both of them.
"And Derek," Judy replied, interrupting Rachel's thoughts. Wringing her hands she looked anywhere but at Rachel as she continued. "Rachel, the kitchen is to the left there and the living room is to our right. I could - would you like a tour?"
"That would be lovely," Rachel said, and felt Quinn squeeze her fingers.
"Hi, Quinn," Cam said, groaning as she stood from the couch and waddled her way over to them.
Rachel had never been happier to see someone. "Cam!"
"And baby," Quinn grinned and reached for her sister. Cam hugged them both, as best she could, and giggled when Quinn set both hands against her stomach. "Hi there, baby."
"Rachel, you want to touch?" Cam asked, seeing Rachel's large eyes focused so intently on her.
"May I?"
"Of course," reaching out she grasped a small tan hand in hers and pulled it over. "There you go."
"Wow," Rachel whispered and hesitantly added her other hand as well. "There's a person in there!"
"Oh trust me, I know," Cam smiled over at Quinn and surreptitiously inclined her head in Rachel's direction.
"Quinn," another voice called.
Quinn turned her attention from Rachel's awestruck expression and found her aunt standing from the couch as well. "Hi, Aunt Lidia, everyone." She waved and forced herself away from Rachel, Cam and her mother to move into the living room. Every step felt like it took an hour but eventually she was standing before the questioning gaze of her family and trying desperately to keep from drowning in the memory of the last time she'd seen her father.
Sitting in the same place Russell had been the night that she'd become homeless, was her Uncle Phillip. She looked into his frosty blue eyes, saw the way he was clenching his jaw and quickly looked away.
"Are you a movie star?" her cousin, Derek, asked. Rachel jerked at the question and spun. Clearly any mention of 'star' meant her.
"No, I'm on Broadway," she corrected with a dazzling smile. "Have you seen one of my shows?"
"You were in a magazine my girlfriend was reading," Derek said, suitably star-struck.
Quinn tried not to laugh as he fluffed his hair and sat up straighter in his seat. Last time she'd seen him he'd done everything he could to come off like Edward from Twilight - with all the mysteriousness, pasty complexion, and of course, the hair. Always with the hair.
"I'm sorry, I'm being rude," Quinn said, smiling encouragingly at Rachel who suddenly seemed smaller than normal. "Rachel, this is Lidia, Adam, Derek, Norah, Steve and Philip." She pointed around the room at each name. "Everyone, this is Rachel."
Judy jumped in before anyone could ask the obvious question written on their faces - why was Rachel here with Quinn? "Quinn, why don't you catch up and I'll show Rachel the house."
There was no time for protest, or to beg for Quinn to come with. Rachel barely managed a quick glance before she was dragged away up the stairs.
As soon as they were out of sight Judy dropped Rachel's wrist like it scalded her and started wringing her hands again. "I thought maybe I'd show you where you'd be staying first? Oh, I should have brought the suitcase up..."
"That's alright, Quinn will grab it and I'd very much like to see her room." Rachel clasped her hands together against her stomach and made sure to stay a good distance from Judy. She wasn't afraid of her, but she didn't want to force herself on Judy, or make her any more uncomfortable. The trip was about Quinn, and fighting with Judy would only make it worse. Rachel was unused to censoring herself, but for Quinn she would do her very best to be polite.
"It's not exactly like Quinn left it, I redecorated; most of her things were already gone. It was hard for me to have her room like she was still here."
Rachel nodded, not surprised in the least. She paused to touch her fingers to a picture of Quinn, tracing over the bright grin she loved. "She looks like sunshine."
"That's at her Academy graduation," Judy said unnecessarily. Quinn was holding up her credentials in the photo, with an equally elated Judy holding onto her arm. "I was so proud of her. I never imagined she'd do something like that. My Quinnie in the FBI."
Not having a response for that, at least not a very friendly one, Rachel picked the picture off the wall, hoping that holding it closer would give her some strength.
"Let's just - Quinn's room is right here," Judy said, gently pulling the frame from Rachel's hands and hastily returning it to its place on the wall, hands noticeably shaking.
All Rachel wanted was to go back downstairs and glue herself to Quinn's side. Anxiety returned in a heady rush, hitting her so hard she was briefly lightheaded. She'd left Quinn downstairs on her own and her protective instincts were screaming for her to go back immediately. God only knew how long the fake pleasantries would last.
Rachel followed Judy's lead into the room she'd be sharing with Quinn and boldly walked right past her host up to the bed. She touched the dark green comforter and traced her index finger over the black felt of a leaf. "I like it, the colors are lovely."
Judy made no move to cross the threshold, so Rachel sat on the bed and made a big show of looking around. There were black and white photos of trees decorating the walls, and a smattering of the expected furniture. All in all the room was like something straight out of a catalogue, and Rachel had no doubt that's exactly where everything came from. She wanted to know what it had looked like before Quinn had left.
"Thank you, I've been thinking about re-painting. Changing up the house has become a hobby of mine; it's relaxing even though it can be frustrating." Judy fidgeted and then backed away from the door. "The guest bathroom is right across the hall," she said, gesturing behind her.
With a nod Rachel stood up from the cushy mattress. "My Dad is a big fan of redecorating. He goes through themes once a year it seems. The only one I ever objected to was the 'farm' stage he went through."
"That sounds interesting, I'll have to ask him about it," Judy said politely. Rachel knew she had no intention of every speaking to her Dad about anything, let alone interior design, but she took the offering with a small smile.
"I think I should probably get back to Quinn," Rachel said, and refolded her hands in front of her.
Judy's expression wavered for a second, and then the smile was plastered back on as she nodded demurely. "Of course. She can show you the rest of the house later. You've seen all the important things already."
All conversation halted as soon as Rachel hit the base of the stairs and she felt all of those eyes on her once again.
Not all of the stares were unfriendly. Mostly she saw general curiosity, though the frightening old man with the shockingly white hair and steely blue eyes was all but burning her with his expression.
Obviously Quinn's gift for strikingly harsh glares and fierce facial expressions was inherited.
She offered a wave, feeling foolish for doing so but not sure what else she could do. Say hello again? Announce an urgent issue that required she and Quinn leave?
If only homes came with fire alarms she could pull.
"Could I bother you for a glass of water?" Rachel asked in a squeak.
Quinn frowned, and started to get up, but Judy piped up before she could get all the way to her feet.
"Help yourself, dear. The kitchen's right through the foyer."
Rachel tried to communicate with Quinn with a look, but Quinn only scrunched up her forehead and mouthed 'what?' at her.
Quinn watched Rachel disappear from her field of vision and sagged back into the couch with a sigh. Cam patted her arm with a small smile and the room fell back into suffocating silence.
"So, Quinn, New York? How's the city treating you?" Her Aunt Norah asked. "I've always wanted to visit. Maybe some day we'll come up and you can show us around?"
All Quinn could manage was a grin as she tried to imagine her Aunt plus family staying in her apartment. Out of the corner of her eye she saw Cam tilt her head and figured she was thinking the same thing. Rachel would love it though, showing people around her city. If she hadn't made it on Broadway so fast she would've made one hell of a tour guide… "It's wonderful, but I miss Washington sometimes. I think if I ever moved again I'd have to try for someplace without snow... or traffic that makes me want to scream. I would certainly love to take you on a tour of the city. Best let me do it and not Rachel, Miss Broadway can be a little zealous."
That earned a few chuckles and Quinn tried to relax.
"You met Rachel there?" Lidia asked from next to her. "I'd love to hear her sing, a real Broadway star, she must be amazing."
"Rachel and I met here in Lima - we went to school together - and she is very amazing." She could just imagine the grin on Rachel's face on hearing the praise. No matter how many times she'd heard compliments about her voice, she always brightened.
"Oh, you've been friends for awhile then," Norah said.
Quinn wasn't stupid, she knew they were tiptoeing around what they wanted to ask. Who, and how they would pose the question, that's what she didn't know.
She'd discussed it with Rachel while they'd been packing, if the topic of their relationship came up they would be honest. While she really didn't want to bring up something so 'controversial' in her family's minds at a funeral, she hadn't hidden Rachel yet and she wasn't about to start now.
"Emily has some pictures of you guys together. There aren't very many but, like, Em totally thinks you're Rachel's girlfriend or whatever 'cause the online article said you were." Derek added nonchalantly. He was playing with his phone while he spoke, so he missed his mother's scandalized expression. She flicked his ear and he ducked his head with a hiss. "What?"
"That's because she is my girlfriend," Quinn said easily, her voice completely even - stating a fact like any other. "I try not to get photographed with her a lot because of my job. It's all about a good pair of sunglasses or a hat. So far they know we're together, but I'm just a 'mystery' woman."
"That's disgusting," Phillip ground out, speaking for the first time.
Cam gripped Quinn's hand in hers and squeezed as they both stiffened at his gravelly voice.
"I don't remember asking for your opinion on it," Quinn said frostily.
He sneered and leaned forward in his chair, long fingers gripping onto the arm rests so hard his knuckles turned white. "I knew that city would corrupt you, the second Russell told me you were moving there. I knew it. You've always been so easily swayed. I'm ashamed of you. Your father would be too. You are a Fabray and you've fallen into temptation again."
Anger bubbled up in Quinn's stomach and she started to stand again, ready for this fight. Phillip wasn't her father, but he was close enough. All her life she'd wanted to stand up to Russell, it was a long time coming and now there was the opportunity to unleash a little.
Only Cam's hand kept her anchored to her seat as Phillip was speaking again, his voice rising as he found his feet.
"Pregnant at sixteen, like some weak minded fool, spreading your legs for the first man that would look at you. I told Russell he was too gentle with you, I knew all along you'd disappoint him. Now you're a dyke on top of it all. Next it will be drugs, and then what? How far into the mud are you planning on dragging the family name?"
"How dare -"
"I am not finished!" He bellowed.
Quinn risked a glance at her mother, but found Judy staring at her fingers. Her aunts were just as intently playing with their jewelry or hair. Derek had his phone in his lap and was texting away. The only person who seemed to be in the same room with Quinn was Cam, who clutched her hand so hard she was certain a finger was going to be broken.
In the kitchen Rachel was frozen, hand wrapped around a glass in the sink. It was overflowing – the water running over her fist - but she couldn't pull away. Her heart was up in her throat, and beating so hard she felt like she might pass out.
"Maybe it's not completely your fault. Maybe it was the whore you dared to bring to your fathers funeral who infected you. You should have stayed in that God forsaken city. You're an insult to Russell's name."
Distantly, Quinn heard the sound of glass shattering, but she was too far gone in her fury to pay a mind to anything. The entire room had gone blurry, not with tears, but with the single - minded focus that only came from being violently angry.
She moved her jaw back and forth, felt it pop, and stayed very still. "If you ever call Rachel a whore again, or any other demeaning name for that matter, I will see to it that you join your brother. Say what you want about me, I honestly don't fucking care anymore, but you leave her out of it." Her voice was low, deceptively calm, and dangerously serious. There was no doubt in anyone's mind that she meant that threat, absolutely - and that if anyone would be able to get away with murder it would be Quinn.
Rachel stayed in the kitchen – trembling from head to toe and watching the water push glass shards around the sink, one hand clapped over her mouth.
Quinn didn't move again, and to everyone else it looked like she'd even quit breathing. Phillip had the decency to appear cowed; he sulked and scowled in the recliner, downing his tumbler of whatever liquor he'd been sipping on.
The only sound for a couple of seconds was Derek tapping away at his phone, until his mother reached over and stopped his fingers. "I think you can text Emily later, honey."
When her motor skills returned, Rachel roughly wrenched the water off and whirled around to go and rescue Quinn. She had to get them out of the house - it was Hell and she was sure they'd be murdered in their sleep. All it would take was one phone call to her fathers and they'd be out of there, if Quinn even wanted to stay for the funeral. Rachel wouldn't blame her if she wanted to get on the first flight home. While they'd been expecting nothing but hostility once the news broke, Rachel hadn't been able to believe it would be this bad. She'd witnessed some awful things growing up in Lima with two fathers, and experienced her fair share of homophobia, but this? These people were supposed to be a family, a family she wanted to be a part of some day. Or she'd thought she'd wanted to be a part of. Where was the love?
Where the hell was Judy Fabray while her brother-in-law spewed those hateful things at her youngest daughter?
"Quinn, your father requested you be the one to do give his eulogy." Judy announced suddenly, as though she'd heard Rachel's mental plea for her to speak up. Anything to try and dampen the tension running through the room like an electric current. Anything but that. Judy closed her eyes as soon as the last syllable escaped her lips. It had just popped out because she'd been thinking about it all day, how to bring it up with Quinn - this was not the time or the way she'd planned. After Phillip's venomous words, anything involving Russell should have been stowed until later, when Quinn had calmed back down.
Quinn came back to life, leaping up from her seat on the couch so quickly that it startled Cam. "You can't be serious!" She backed away, shaking her head slowly from side to side, and retreated towards the kitchen, never turning her back on them. One wrong move with this group, one sign of vulnerability, and she was certain she'd find a metaphorical knife in her back. Phillip was sneering at her, like a jackal ready to go for her jugular at the first chance.
"What is wrong with you?" Cam hissed over at her mother. "Now? You bring it up now?"
Judy blushed and looked away from the dissecting eyes of her family. "There's no need to shout. You can just say a few words, that's all it is, Quinn."
"No," Quinn snarled and slapped her palm against the wall. Behind her, Rachel jumped at the sound and started to reach for Quinn's arm. "No, absolutely not. Phillip can do it - give him a chance to preach to the masses about how evil I am. How it's my wicked ways that sent Saint Russell to an early grave, to take his place with the other angels."
She shrugged Rachel's hand off of her shoulder, and ripped Judy's keys from the hook in the entryway, storming out of the house amidst the whispers of her family. Rachel was hot on her heels, equally desperate to escape. "Quinn, wait!"
"I'm – I need to leave for awhile, Rachel. Get in the car."
Rachel didn't think twice, climbing into the passenger seat and buckling herself in. She didn't know where they were going, but she was sure anywhere would be better than another second in that house.
They tore out of the driveway in Judy's sporty red Volvo, and roared off down the street. Rachel could smell the stench of burnt rubber and decided to stay quiet until it dissipated.
"I'm sorry," Quinn blurted out, slumping, her forehead nearly coming to rest on the steering wheel. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have – please, I'm sorry about that. Did I scare you?"
"Baby, it's fine. You're under a lot of stress. " Rachel swallowed down her fear and drew on all of her years on stage for her bearing. "Let me in, Quinn, please? Don't hide the broken parts."
She saw a muscle in Quinn's jaw twitch and sighed, figuring she'd been locked out again.
Until Quinn spoke so differently from what she'd been expecting that Rachel couldn't stop her flinch.
"He used to lock me in the closet."
Rachel's breath hitched in her chest, an inaudible gasp that painfully stayed, stuck low in her throat. Ryan's words, his warning, surfaced in her head and she sucked her bottom lip between her teeth to keep herself quiet. Quinn shot her a quick glance before returning her attention to the road, pale fingers nearly strangling the steering wheel.
"Sometimes it was only for an hour, others it was much longer. The first time, I was trying to get one of Mom's sugar cookies off the kitchen counter. They were for the bake sale at the church and I wasn't supposed to have them. Not even one. Dad caught me with my hand almost literally in the 'cookie jar'. I spent three days in the coat closet. My Mom let me out, said my crying was too loud and she had a hangover. I think it was the excuse she gave Dad to let me out sooner then he'd wanted."
Tears burned against the back of Rachel's eyelids, so she grabbed hard at her thighs, digging her nails in and fighting back the stinging moisture as hard as she could. Don't cry, Rachel. Don't cry!
"He burned my hand once, on the cast iron fireplace at our old house. Not too badly. Not enough to have to go to the hospital anyway. He found me hiding in my room reading Harry Potter, - and said it was blasphemous – evil. He said that I'd brought evil into his house. Witchcraft is not of God. He burned the book, even though it was from the school library, and then he took my hand and set it on the top - to burn the devil off of me."
Quinn didn't cry - her eyes weren't even wet as she continued in a soft, expressionless tone. "When I got older and it was too much of a fight to get me into the closet, he started using his belt. Afterwards, he'd cry and tell me he loved me so much. That he only punished me for my own good. That I'd disappointed him. He said he only did it because he loved me. My Mom put washrags against the welts, but she never cried or tried to keep it from happening. She just rescued me when she could. It stopped after middle school, when I finally figured out how to be what he wanted. Camille never got sent to the closet, never got the belt. He spanked her, sure, with his hand and that was it. But she was better than me, less stubborn, less rebellious. Mom said that I reminded Dad of himself, that he was only trying to keep me from growing up to be like him. He wanted me to be perfect, like Cam, but better because I was the 'pretty' one. Good little angels and pretty little girls, they weren't supposed to be like me. Like him."
A sob caught harshly in Rachel's throat. She'd seen the scars on Quinn's back, felt them under her hands, mapped them with her lips, and always assumed that they were battle scars from Quinn's job. Her skin was littered with small, faded, reminders of rough nights.
"I loved him so much; it broke my heart every time he cried, every time I let him down so badly. I felt guilty that he had to punish me. I wanted to be good; I want it so badly I thought I never wanted anything more. I couldn't stop pushing against his hold, even though I knew what the consequences of defying him were." She smiled gravely and turned to Rachel as they pulled up to a stoplight. The light reflected off her face, her eyes, and the sadness written there nearly shattered what was left of Rachel's resolve.
Every broken smile. All the ruined relationships. Every snapped word. The slap. Her claustrophobia. It all made sense. Everything came back to a frightened child locked in a closet. A lonely, terrified girl.
Rachel ached with the need to hold Quinn, to crawl over the center console separating them and latch onto her with every intent to never let her go. She wanted to scream and cry and rage at the unfairness of it all. Or go back in time and beat the shit out of Russell Fabray, taking Quinn away from Judy for good. They didn't deserve her. But it was too late for all of that; Quinn was staring at her now, in the present – waiting for her response.
"Quinn," she said and closed her eyes. It was all she could manage.
"I could have, should have, called the police and reported him. Or even told a teacher. Someone. But I was scared and loved him, I didn't want him to be mad at me or have them take me away from the only home I knew. And then he was a part of the Lima PD. A lot of the officers new me, and our family. When I think about it now, I think they would have believed me, but back then I was sure they would only be angry with me for making up stories." Quinn chuckled humorlessly and shook her head. "I never told anyone. I got good at hiding things. The easiest way was to shove everyone and every feeling as far away as possible. I tried to pretend I was a Terminator, which is hilarious because I'm sure I would've gotten the belt for that. A soulless machine that kills people? Yeah, Dad would have loved that."
Rachel couldn't take it anymore; she was going to throw up or hyperventilate, or something with all the emotions clogging her throat. "Pull over."
Quinn did as asked, so smoothly that it made Rachel want to scream all over again. She was falling to pieces and Quinn was as unreadable as ever. She was so angry, so spectacularly furious that she was physically shaking. It was like she was freezing to death though her skin felt like it was burning.
"Is that what you wanted to know, Rachel?" Quinn asked, not unkindly, but pointedly. She was staring right at her, calm, and collected, a pane of streak free glass without even a crack on the flawless surface. "Are those the broken parts you wanted to see?"
"I didn't know," Rachel said and clasped her hands tightly together between her knees. She focused on breathing, steadying herself by holding her breath and counting to ten before letting it out. "I didn't know."
"Ryan doesn't even know," Quinn admitted. Hesitantly, she stretched out and placed her palm over Rachel's flexing fists.
"I am... so mad," Rachel admitted, shaking her head. "I can't – Quinn, I'm so sorry."
Rachel caught Quinn's hand as she started to pull back, clutching it tightly. She risked her tenuous grip on tears to meet Quinn's inexplicably shy expression. It smacked against her, stealing her breath. "I'm not mad at you. Please don't think that I'm upset with you or unhappy that you told me. I'm – thank you, for telling me."
"I know you're not mad at me, but it's nice to hear it out loud."
"Can I hug you?"
Quinn nodded her head, with a subtle movement that most people would miss. Rachel unbuckled her seat belt and flew across the console immediately, wrapping both arms around Quinn's neck. She buried her nose in Quinn's hair and held her as tightly as she could.
"It's okay, Rachel."
Don't assure me! Why are you consoling me! "It's really not," Rachel said against blonde hair. The soft strands tickled her lips as she spoke against them. "It's not okay that you went through that, or all of the - the bullshit today. You're so brave, Quinn, I can't believe how brave you are."
"That's not true; I'm scared all the time - of everything."
Reluctantly Rachel sat back, keeping hold of Quinn's hand, needing the contact, the tether. "But you never quit, you never show it or let it get the best of you. Maybe it's because you're scared, but it just means you're brave enough to feel it and keep going anyway."
Quinn gestured at the steering wheel with the hand not entangled with Rachel's. "Let's get back on the road."
"I love you," Rachel said, desperately, earnestly, needing Quinn to hear it and believe her.
"Still?"
"Always," Rachel said cupping Quinn's cheek with her free hand, as she directed red-rimmed, hazel-green eyes back onto her. "Maybe even more than before, if that's possible."
"You always know what to say," Quinn said, mouth twitching at the corner in the barest hint of a smile.
Rachel waited until the car was back in motion and Quinn's attention was back on the road before she reached up to discreetly wipe the pads of her fingers under her eyes.
TBC...