"You bitch." My older brother growls at me, a hand flying to the quickly forming bruise on his cheek, "You shouldn't be here." He picked my dad's side; he left with him. He shouldn't be here. He isn't welcome here.

"Clary. Jonathan, enough." My mom's voice cuts through the tension between my brother and I. I vaguely feel Jace's presence behind me, which doesn't help my rigid posture, "This wasn't the welcome home I expected." Jonathan, sneers at me. I think I'm angry enough to kill him.

"This isn't your home, you lost that when you left with Valentine a year ago." I snap back at him, "I was a child; I did what I thought was right." Jonathan replies, to which I let out a loud, humorless laugh, crossing my arms over my chest, "You were eighteen, old enough to realize how you were hurting mom," and me. I loved Jonathan, he was my best friend growing up, but he and my father stabbed me in the back; they ruined me, "I hate you." I tell him before I can stop myself.

"Clarissa Adele Morgenstern!" My mother is yelling now, "Don't speak to him like that. He's right, he was just a child doing what he thought was right.

"My last name is Fray" I dropped my father's last name after he left, "And let's not pretend that Jonathan leaving didn't break you in half. You can't just forgive him because he showed up a year later. How did you even find us?" I throw my hands up in the air, now yelling at my brother, and I step towards him.

At this moment, Jace makes his presence known to the entire house, coming out of the doorway and looping his hand around my wrist, pulling me back and stopping me from advancing towards my brother.

"Jace," my mother recognizes him, "You shouldn't be here. This is a family matter. You need to leave." My mother tells him but Jace remains unwavering.

"We aren't a family, and Jace isn't going anywhere." He drops my forearm, and I take a deep breath, "How did you find us Jonathan, neither of us have any contact with you." I clench my hands tightly into a ball, attempting to keep my boiling rage under control.

"There was a return address on the divorce papers mom sent dad." Jonathan calmly says.

"How did you get the divorce papers to Valentine anyway? Did you know where he was all this time?" I accuse my mother, who puts her hands up in surrender, "No, my lawyer did it for me." She tells me, which lifts a small weight off my chest. The room falls silent, and we all stare at each other. I pick at the bandage wrapping my hand, my eyes boring a hole into the side of my mother's head.

I let out quiet hiss as I accidentally scrape against one of the splinter wounds on my hands; Jace reacts quicker than me, taking my hand in his and holding it lightly in his own. For once, I enjoy his comfort in this very high stress situation.

The silence is broken by Jonathan's phone ringing out loudly, making everyone but Jace jump. He glances down at his phone, before letting out a loud sigh, and shoving it back into his pocket, "Listen, dad is wondering where I am, I need to go to him. I'll be back in a bit." Jonathan walks to my mother, pulling her into a hug briefly, and then walking to me. My body turns to stone in Jace's hand, and he pulls me closer to him. Jonathan gets the message, pursing his lips and bowing his head slightly.

"I'll see you soon little sister," he brushes past me, "Oh, by the way," he calls to me before he exits, "You've turned into a hell of a fighter, way better than I ever was." I squeeze my eyes shut, taking a couple deep breaths.

My mom rushes to the coat hanger, grabbing her purse and car keys, "Where are you going?" I ask her, pissed that she is just leaving me after all of this mess was dropped into my lap.

"Out," she says, going towards the door. I tear away from Jace, following her, "Are you fucking kidding me!" I exclaim, "Don't curse at me." She tells me pointedly, "You can't just bring me into this bullshit, and than leave me to deal with it myself." I snap at her, putting my hand on the door and holding it shut so she can't leave the house.

"You can't just leave, you always do this!" My voice cracks as I scream at her, "You can't just run away from this. This isn't fair." She doesn't just get to pick and choose when she gets to be my mom.

"You have Jace," she looks over my shoulder at him, "There's something I need." Her voice has lost her boldness, and now just sounds sad. I back away from the door, allowing her to leave. She slams it shut behind her, and I press my back against it, putting my head in my hands, choking down the urge to scream. Rather than scream, I press my back against the wall, sliding down to the floor, bringing my knees to my chest and putting my head in my hands.

"Hey," I hear Jace walk up to me, I don't look up at him, "Please leave." I tell him halfheartedly, "I know you don't want that." He moves so he can slide down next to me, "I don't need you seeing me like this." I turn my body so I am facing away from him, "You guys don't need to be a part of this." I don't need the only group of friends I've had since my family split in half to see how fucked up my family is. I don't need them to see me this weak.

"I want to be a part of this." Jace tells me before clearing his throat oddly, "I mean, we, we all want to be here for you. Isabelle would be saying the same thing if she was sitting in my place." Jace puts a hand lightly on my shoulder, "So how about this," he spins me so I am facing him, causing me to scowl.

"I get you off your ass," he stands up offering me a hand, "And we go do something to make you feel better." I don't move, "Truthfully Jace, I don't think a night on the town will make me feel better."

"Ok, fine, something to get your mind off of it, just for the night, and tomorrow, I'll let you go back to sulking and we can find a way heal your family trauma." This cracks a smile out of me.

"Fine, but you need to change out of this awful smelling football uniform." I take his hand, letting him lift me to my feet, "This is the sweet smell of victory, baby." He doesn't let go of my hand, yanking me into him, "Embrace it." I gag, he smells like sweat and dirt, "Jace." I exclaim, putting both my hands on his chest and shoving him far away from me.

"I have a change of clothes on my bike, I'll be right back." He walks out the front door, and I fight the urge to lock it behind him and ditch our plans. I walk into the kitchen, intending to grab a glass of water. As I fill up a small cup for myself, I notice a notebook sitting on the counter next to the fridge. Curiously, I pick it up. The page is empty, minus a phone number that has been jotted down. My eyebrows knit in confusion at the unrecognizable phone number. I hear the front door open and shut, and my head snaps up, "Jace?" I call, "Yeah." He quickly responds.

"Come here," I tell him, "I'm changing," he yells back through my house, "I don't care, come here." I call to him. I hear his groan echo through the house, and he walks into the kitchen. I am quickly derailed from my train of thought as a shirtless Jace. He smirks at me as my eyes travel over his body, and I blush at the fact that he caught me checking him out, "Uh," I squeeze my eyes shut, looking away from him quickly, and down at the notepad in my hand, "You didn't happen to write your number on this notebook, did you?" I shove it to him and he glances down at the pad while shaking his head, "Not my hand writing, mine is much neater." He hands it back to me, "Your moms?" He asks and I shake my head.

"Hm," he pauses, stretching a hand up to scratch the back of his head, "Call it." He says a moment after a pause, "It's probably nothing, but if you're curious just call it, it'll probably make you feel better." Jace tells me and I purse my lips for a moment, thinking through his words, "Yeah, ok." I pull my phone out of my pocket, dialing in the number and without another second moment of doubt, I call it.

It rings for a few moments and my anxiety peaks. When the phone call is finally answered, my breath gets caught in my throat, and I don't know what to say.

"Hello?" The cold voice on the other line is immediately recognizable, and chilling enough to freeze my entire body. I swear my heart stops beating and my lungs forget how to work.

"Hello?" The voice says again, "Clarissa, is that you?" Immediately, I hang up the call, and the phone slips out of my hand to the kitchen floor, "Oh my God." I back away from the phone, looking at Jace, spitting out, "That was a terrible idea."

"Who was that?" Jace asks, bending down and picking up my phone, slipping it back to me. I stare at it for a moment, "Clary." He puts a hand on my shoulder, "Clarissa," he says again when I don't respond, "Don't call me that." I swear my face contorts into a snarl as I growl at him.

"Who was that?" He asks me again, and I let out a loud huff, leaning my back against my kitchen counter, my eyes trained on my cell phone.

"My father, Valentine."