As Shelby drove through the sun-dappled streets towards her mother's house, a sense of unease filled her heart. With a soft thud, she parked her car and stepped out, the crisp breeze whispering against her skin. She walked towards the front yard, where her mother, Stacey, was bent over in the garden, the vibrant colors of blooming roses surrounding her like a vibrant halo. The scent of fresh earth and blossoming flowers hung in the air as Shelby called out, her voice carrying a hint of trepidation.
Stacey looked up, her face lighting up with a warm, maternal smile that could melt the coldest of worries.
"Um, Mom, can we go inside and talk?" Shelby asked, her tone gentle yet urgent, as she tried to mask the turmoil brewing within her.
"Of course, Shelby," her mother replied, peeling off her gardening gloves with care, the fabric stained with remnants of earth. Together, they entered the cozy confines of the house, the familiar warmth wrapping around them as they stepped inside. Shelby gestured for her mother to take a seat, her heart racing as she prepared to share the weight of her worries.
Once settled in the living room, adorned with family photos and cherished mementos, Stacey leaned forward, her expression shifting to one of concern. "What's going on, sweetheart?"
Shelby perched nervously on the edge of the plush couch, her fingers twisting anxiously in her lap. Gathering her thoughts, she looked up at her mother, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. "I didn't go to work today because of Tiger," she began, her voice trembling. "We had a huge disagreement, and now she's gone. I've searched everywhere, but I can't find her. I'm really worried."
Her mother's eyes widened in alarm as she empathized, her voice steady yet laced with concern. "I don't understand why she would do that."
"She was so upset with Cass and me, thinking we don't love her enough, which couldn't be further from the truth. I love her like my own daughter," Shelby placed a hand over her heart, feeling the ache of sorrow. "It hurts so much, Mom."
"Why would she think that?" Stacey asked, her brow furrowing in surprise.
"She wanted to spend some one-on-one time with me, away from her sisters, but I had to prioritize Rachel's needs at that moment," Shelby explained, her voice breaking.
Stacey's expression softened as she absorbed this information. "No wonder she feels that way. It's understandable that my granddaughter might feel neglected," she remarked.
Confused by her mother's insight, Shelby pressed for clarification. "What do you mean?"
Stacey replied gently, "You know Santana and Rachel don't have the best relationship."
"Yes, they were making progress for a while, but it seems their connection has unraveled again," Shelby admitted, her heart sinking.
As her mother continued, Shelby felt a sharp pang of guilt. "Tiger believes that you and Cassandra favor Rachel, Kitty, and Quinn over her. She feels unappreciated, especially after trying so hard to connect with Rachel for your and Cass's sake. She feels invisible."
"Mom, it sounds like you're saying I don't care about Tiger!" Shelby defended, feeling the rush of frustration creep in. "I've apologized to Santana for being stricter because I wanted her to make better choices!"
"I know you care, honey, but favoritism can hurt a child. Every child needs to feel equally loved," Stacey said in a firm yet gentle tone, her voice brimming with wisdom.
Shelby let out a deep sigh, running her fingers through her hair as the weight of the realization settled heavily on her shoulders.
"Teenagers thrive on structure. You need to sit down and talk to your kids at their level so they can comprehend your intentions better," Stacey advised, her eyes filled with motherly wisdom.
"Are you sure it will work?" Shelby's uncertainty was evident as she looked up at her mother, questioning the path forward.
"Yes, it worked with you and your siblings," Stacey reassured her, a warm smile breaking through the tension. "I'm disappointed about what happened with Santana, but let's go help you find her," she declared, resolve shining through her words.
"Mom, please—stay here just in case she comes back," Shelby pleaded, desperate to keep her mother safe at home.
"You might be right, but my grandbaby needs me," Stacey insisted, her determination unwavering. She stood up, the floor creaking under her, as she reached for the door. "Come on, Shells, let's go search for her," she said, a rallying force as Shelby followed closely behind.
Meanwhile, Santana stepped out of the bright yellow taxi, its engine purring softly as she handed the driver his fare. A heavy weight settled in her chest as she made her way up to Brittany's house, the changes in her life swirling in her mind. The door creaked open slowly, revealing Brittany's mother, Whitney, who wore a look of concern that instantly tugged at Santana's heart. "Come in, sweetheart," Whitney said, her warm smile offering a flicker of comfort amidst Santana's storm of emotions.
As Santana sank into the plush cushions of the couch, the weight of her grief manifested in her red, swollen eyes. She was a picture of distress, her body tense, and her lips trembling.
"What's the matter, San?" Brittany's mom asked gently, her voice imbued with motherly tenderness.
"My moms don't love me," Santana confessed, her voice barely above a whisper, shaking with suppressed tears. "They care more about Man Hands, Quinn, and Kitty than they do about me. They'd be better off without me." Her words hung in the air, thick with despair.
Whitney leaned forward, her nurturing instincts bubbling to the surface. "I'm sure you've got it wrong, Santana," she reassured gently, enveloping her in warmth like a soft blanket. "They do care about you."
"No, they don't, Mrs. Pierce. I think I made the wrong choice in coming here," Santana said, her anguish spilling over as she stood up, every muscle in her body screaming for a way out. Whitney reached out, her voice filled with concern, but Santana, lost in her turmoil, insisted she would be alright. She stepped outside, feeling the cool breeze against her skin, seeking solace elsewhere — at her aunt's house.
Meanwhile, Jeff and Cassandra strolled through the serene park, their footsteps crunching softly on the gravel. Concern clouded Jeff's features as he racked his mind for clues about Santana's sudden disappearance. "Have you checked her house in Lima?" he asked, urgency creeping into his tone.
"No, I've only looked here in Akron," Cassandra replied, a hand resting on her forehead in frustration. Suddenly, a lightbulb flickered to life in her mind as she exclaimed, "I think I know where she might be!" With determination, she dashed towards her car, Jeff hot on her heels, firing off questions about Santana's potential whereabouts.
"I think she might be at Brittany's house," Cassandra declared, her engine roaring to life as they sped towards Lima, Ohio, adrenaline fueling their urgency.
In a parallel narrative, Quinn and Kitty made a daring escape from Carmel High School, their minds set on locating their missing sister, San. The air buzzed with a shared determination as Quinn pulled out her phone, quickly reaching out to Rachel. The response was swift — Rachel agreed to meet them at the familiar comfort of Lima Bean. Without wasting a beat, the sisters hailed a taxi, the vehicle speeding them off towards hope.
Once they arrived at the bustling coffee shop, they found Rachel already seated at a table, flanked by their friends Mercedes, Kurt, Puck, and Finn. The atmosphere was thick with anticipation. Quinn, grateful for their unwavering support, shared the urgency of the situation, her voice steady yet pleading.
Kitty leaned in, urgency etching her features. "Has anyone heard from or seen her?" she asked, turning to their gathered friends, emphasizing the importance of their collective effort to reunite their family.
A chorus of head shakes met her inquiry, heavy with concern. Then Brittany chimed in, her voice laced with urgency, "My mom texted me! Santana was at our house, upset, and she left in a hurry."
Quinn's eyes widened with worry. "Did your mom say which way she went?" she pressed.
"No, she just took off running," Brittany replied, anxiety pooling in her stomach.
Puck, always the jokester, added, "She might be headed to my place." With that, they all scampered out of the café, piling into Puck's car and accelerating towards his house.
As they zoomed through the streets, Quinn, Rachel, and Kitty spotted their mom's car approaching Brittany's residence, their hearts racing. Brittany pointed excitedly, "Your uncle's with your mom!" They all ducked in their seats in a frantic attempt to remain unseen as Puck drove past.
Upon arriving at Puck's house, they spilled out of the car, calling out for Santana, but the only response was the echo of their voices bouncing off the walls, met with silent desolation.
Brittany, feeling a wave of anxiety, carefully dialed Santana's number while Kitty offered words of encouragement. After what felt like an eternity of tense rings, Santana finally picked up. "I'm not coming home," she stated flatly, her voice devoid of warmth, before hanging up abruptly. Brittany, unable to contain her light-hearted spirit even in the dark moment, joked that if Lord Tubbington had been there, he would have ensured Santana returned to Shelby's house safely.
Later in the day, Cassie arrived at Brittany S. Pierce's house, anxiety etched in every feature. Whitney Pierce welcomed her with a concerned gaze. Cassie rushed to inquire after Santana, her heart racing with worry. "She was very upset and left in a hurry," Whitney explained, gesturing down the street and recalling how Santana had bolted, hailing a cab.
Jeff, her brother-in-law, stepped forward, gratitude in his eyes as he thanked Whitney for her help. He knew Cassie was in no shape to drive, so he offered to take her home. Cassie's heart was heavy with guilt, feeling solely responsible for Santana's distress, but Jeff, sensing her turmoil, reassured her. "We'll find her, Cassie. I promise." With determination lighting his eyes, he took the wheel, ready to navigate the roads in search of their missing daughter / niece .
Quinn quickly dialed her mom, urgency in her voice as she updated her on their situation. "We hitched a ride with a friend," she informed Shelby, her tone hopeful but tinged with uncertainty. She hesitated briefly before asking if it would be alright for them to stay over for a while.
Shelby's reply came with a firm, resolute tone that brooked no argument. "It's a school night, Quinn," she emphasized, her words echoing with the weight of parental authority. "I expect all three of you back home by dinnertime."
Nodding in acknowledgment, Quinn promised her mother they would return as requested before ending the call. Turning to her friends, she relayed Shelby's directive, only for Finn to scoff, "Santana's being unreasonable." Meanwhile, Mercedes furrowed her brow in confusion, questioning, "Why would she run off like that?"
Kitty, sensing the escalating tension, chimed in, "Santana has been upset ever since her chat with Mom yesterday afternoon." It was clear that something weighed heavily on Santana's heart, yet she remained tight-lipped about the source of her distress.
Rachel leaned in, her voice conspiratorial, suggesting, "What if she's upset with Shelby and Cassie because of me? Maybe she's jealous of the attention I'm getting." Quinn, rolling her eyes, dismissed Rachel's theory as "ludicrous," shaking her head in disbelief. Kitty came to Santana's defense, stating, "Shelby and Cassie are her parents before they're ours!"
As tempers flared, Rachel and Quinn clashed in a heated exchange, each stubbornly defending their stance. It was Kurt who finally intervened, urging everyone to cease their bickering and redirect their focus on finding Santana instead of squabbling amongst themselves.
After an exhausting day spent searching, Shelby finally returned home, her heart heavy with worry. Puck's earlier words echoed in her mind: he hadn't seen Santana in over a week. Stepping through the creaky front door at 5:45 PM, the familiar sound echoed her unease. She sank into the well-worn couch, its fabric molding around her as if in reluctance to let go of the tension gripping her.
Her gaze landed on a cherished photograph resting on the coffee table, stirring even deeper waves of emotion within her. With trembling hands, she picked it up, tracing her finger over Santana's smiling face, longing for the warmth of that carefree day. Tears slipped down her cheeks, carving silent trails of sorrow as she pressed the photo against her chest—a heavy reminder of the worry that clawed at her heart.
Moments later, Quinn, Rachel, and Kitty burst through the door, their laughter filling the dim living room but doing little to lift the pall of anxiety. Just for a fleeting moment, Shelby's heart fluttered with false hope, as if she envisioned Santana walking through the door. But the feeling faded as quickly as it came.
"Girls, have any of you heard from your sister today?" Shelby's voice broke the stillness, fragile and laced with palpable anxiety.
"Brittany spoke to her briefly… but she's not coming home," Quinn responded softly, her gaze lowered to the floor, unable to meet her mom's anxious eyes.
Shelby scrutinized Quinn's face, fear intertwining with desperation as countless scenarios raced through her mind. Turning her attention to Rachel and Kitty, she admitted, "I've looked everywhere for her. She's not at any of her usual spots." Her voice trembled, like a leaf shivering in the wind. "I feel like a terrible parent," she confessed, the freshness of unshed tears threatening to spill over.
In instinctive solidarity, Quinn and Kitty wrapped their arms around Shelby, pulling her into a warm embrace that whispered reassurance. "You're the best mom we could ever have," they softly assured her.
"Then why would she leave?" Shelby's voice cracked under the weight of frustration and worry.
"I don't know, Mom," Quinn and Kitty replied in unison, their own faces mirroring her turmoil.
Rachel, unable to contain her discontent any longer, scoffed quietly. "She's just a selfish person who only cares about herself," she muttered under her breath.
Shelby's gaze sharpened as her eyes narrowed in on Rachel. "What did you just say, Rachel?" Her tone shifted, curiosity mingling with defensiveness.
"Nothing, Shelby," Rachel shot back, defensive and instinctively retreating a step. "I hope you find her."
Just then, Jeff entered the room alongside Cassie, worry etched across his features. "Cassie is in shock," he began, his voice tinged with urgency, "after Brittany's mom told us that Tiger came and left abruptly, getting into a cab. She doesn't even know where he's headed."
Shelby sighed heavily, a storm of gratitude and frustration bubbling up as she thanked her brother. He quickly requested a ride to the park to retrieve his car.
After dropping him off, Shelby returned home to find Rachel animatedly conversing with Cassie and Kitty, the air thick with tension and unspoken fears.
As the family convened around the dinner table—a picture of elegance—the soft, flickering glow of the candles painted their faces in warm, golden hues, casting playful shadows that waltzed across the walls. Each flicker appeared almost alive, weaving an intimate tapestry of light that wrapped the room in a cozy embrace. Shelby sat quietly, her mind wandering through cherished memories of Santana, a gentle smile unfurling like a fragile flower as joyful recollections enveloped her, momentarily whisking her away from the vibrant scene unfolding around her.
The air was vibrant with the cheerful burble of laughter, each chuckle ringing like melodic notes, harmonizing beautifully with the rhythmic clinking of silverware. The room buzzed with life, yet Shelby felt as though she were in a distant dream until Rachel's voice, laced with an undercurrent of concern, cut through her reverie like a shard of glass slicing through silk.
Startled, Shelby turned to Rachel, surprise mingling with recognition on her features. She realized her moment of distraction might have seemed rude, and a warm blush crept onto her cheeks, painting them a rosy shade. With a sheepish yet sincere smile, she apologized for her absent-mindedness, her voice tender but earnest. Rachel, embodying understanding, returned the gesture with a radiant smile filled with kindness, leaning in closer as curiosity sparkled in her eyes. "What are our plans for the weekend?"
"I've secured two tickets to that show you've been dreaming of in New York!" Shelby exclaimed, her voice bubbling with enthusiasm, eyes shimmering with the thrill of adventure that awaited.
Rachel's expression transformed, her eyes igniting like the city skyline against a dying sun as she envisioned navigating the lively, bustling streets of New York City to experience her beloved Broadway production, "Funny Girl," alongside Shelby. "I can't wait!" she exclaimed, her voice light and buoyant, alive with joy and anticipation, fueling a fire of excitement within her.
However, darkness seemed to creep in as a shadow flitted across Rachel's features when Shelby added, "I might have to cancel if Santana is still missing…" The weight of her words lingered in the air, sorrow threading through her voice like a fragile spider's web.
"Oh," Rachel replied, her heart plummeting like a stone, disappointment seeping into her tone.
"I've truly wanted to go this weekend with you," Shelby murmured softly, her hand reaching out in a gesture of empathy to pat Rachel's shoulder. Yet there was a distance in her gaze, a testament to the worries that clouded her heart and pulled her mind elsewhere.
"I understand what you're trying to convey," Rachel replied gently, her voice laced with genuine empathy.
At the table, Shelby sat, her fork absently poking at the food on her plate, her mind drifting far beyond the meal. After a moment, she excused herself, feeling the urgent need to call Santana once more, harboring hopes that this time, she would finally receive an answer.
"You're so selfish!" Rachel erupted, frustration peaking in her tone, emotions swirling within her like a tempest. Kitty shot her a piercing glare after their parents had left the room, the tension thick as molasses. "Do you really think Mom would want to go anywhere with you while our sister is missing because of you?"
"I'm not being selfish, Kit! I was simply curious about where Shelby plans to take me this weekend for our special time together," Rachel shot back, defensively, her voice a clashing mixture of indignation and hurt. "And it's not my fault Santana took off—she's just jealous of me."
"Once again, Rachel, she isn't jealous of you," Quinn interjected, determination knitted into her firm but exasperated tone, striving for clarity amidst the chaos.
"Whatever," Rachel huffed, pushing her chair back with a loud scrape that echoed her inner turmoil. She marched over to the sink, her dish slamming down with a clatter that reverberated through the room, mirroring the unresolved tension thick in the air. "I'm not doing her chores!"
As the atmosphere bristled with unsaid words, Cassie intervened, her voice smooth and soothing. She calmly suggested that everyone needed to come together to finish their chores first, emphasizing the importance of teamwork. Only once the work was completed could they retreat to their own spaces for some well-deserved solitude.
The three teenage girls nodded in understanding, feeling the weight of the moment. With a renewed sense of purpose, they began to tackle their chores, previous grievances temporarily overshadowed by a collective goal.
Later, at Aunt Marissa's house, Santana knocked hesitantly, a blend of apprehension and hope flickering in her chest. Her aunt opened the door with a warm, welcoming smile that wrapped around her like a soft caress, enveloping her in a heartfelt embrace that made her feel momentarily at home. "I've been so worried about you, and it's such a relief to see you," her aunt said, her voice rich with kindness as she ushered Santana inside, wrapping her in a warm blanket that cocooned her in comfort.