When Amie opened her eyes, bright morning light streamed through the window. She stretched—though she couldn't fully extend her arm over her head—and let out a short sigh. For the first time in what felt like forever, she felt rested. But as she lay there, staring at the faded colour of her ceiling and listening to the suffocating silence of the house, she questioned why.

Slowly curling onto her side, she closed her eyes and let herself drift back into the remnants of her dream. She remembered the way Johnny had fit around her, how she had fit so perfectly into his arms. Like yin and yang—puzzle pieces of two rival clans—complementing each other in ways that shouldn't make sense.

And as Amie breathed life into the memory, a strange ache settled in her chest. For the first time in a long time, her bed hadn't felt so empty.

Her throat tightened, a silent sob getting stuck in her chest. She fisted the sheets so hard her knuckles went white, her nails digging into the fabric.Why? Why, why, why?!

A wave of hatred swelled inside her—toward herself, toward the world. Toward anything and everything that had anything to do with her.

"What am I going to do?" she whispered, shaking with quiet sobs.

If only she had never crossed his turf. She wouldn't have to know this heartbreak.

The café that day was dull—maybe duller than usual. So far, she had only one customer, and he had left his ham-and-cheese sandwich half-eaten, with a cold, unfinished coffee sitting in the cup. She doubted she'd ever see him again.

Chewing on her lip, she allowed the warm breeze to brush against her face as she sat at the counter. The midday heat was almost unbearable, but Amie simply sat there, taking it all in—punishing herself as much as she could. Every now and then, her gaze dropped to the newspaper in front of her, scanning the job ads she had circled.

Only to cross them out later.

Nobody wanted her.

Nobody wanted to hire a Toretto—especially not one who had slept with Johnny Tran.

She was used goods, she thought bitterly.Vain, cruel, and useless.And now, everybody knew that she valuedcockover her own blood.

Her teeth sank into her lower lip, hard. She refused to cry. Not again, not when her eyelids were swollen from the morning. So she sat there, with the ceiling fan humming above her in the same slow rhythm, begging any higher power to show her the way.

What am I going to do?

It happened when she was closing down two hours earlier – nobody was coming anyway – when her phone rang. Slowly, lacking the care or purpose, Amie collected her phone off the counter. "Yes?"

"What have I done to deserve such a son?" a voice came from other side – female and tearful. A hiccup followed. "Oh Amie, what have I done wrong? Where have I failed?"

"Who is that?"

"They are releasing Vincent today, into a home care, before his trial," the voice said, gasping for air between the sobs. "They did let me know as his mother, but may the God has mercy on me, that disgrace will not cross my doorstep."

Amie closed her eyes. It was Vince's mum. "I didn't know they are to release him—"

"Well, now you know, girl."

"Where do you have this number from?"

"Does it matter?" Vince's mother snapped, the tears gone out of her voice. "Since it is your family fault, you can have him all to yourself. He got himself into a trouble over his damned second family, so he is your responsibility now – have fun, brat. I am disowning him."

"But, but—"

"I don't care. It is all your fault. Your brother is rotten, and so is your family. Getting people killed, harmed and turning them down the path of evil," she rambled on. "I don't want anything like that in my life."

"Vince loves you, and he wanted to provide for you—"

"Keep your lies, girl. He needed an honest job, not… not this. A gangster. I raised a gangster. May the God have mercy on my soul."

Amie's mind switched the rest of the words out, as her eyes slid towards the Honda standing in front of the café, and then quickly towards the world map on the wall.

What the fuck am I going do to?

Amie's stomach clenched uncomfortably as she neared the hospital, though she couldn't tell exactly why. There were too many reasons—her unpleasant stays in hospitals triggering her fight-or-flight response, the phone call from Vince's mother leaving the heavy burden of him solely on her shoulders, making the idea of running away feel all too real… or the fact that she was actually driving the black Honda that Cara had left for her.

The vehicle was spotless, cleaned down to the last speck of dust. Naturally, Amie felt out of place. Her palms were sweating, and she contemplated turning around, but she needed the car.

The nervous haze followed her through the familiar hospital corridors, the sterile odour stinging her nose. She met a few familiar faces and offered small nods in greeting, but her lips remained sealed. She didn't feel like talking.

Vince sat on his hospital bed, dressed in one of his plain t-shirts and shorts—the ones she had brought for him the other day—not really anticipating what was to come. Or maybe he hadn't, judging by the way he looked up at her, his eyes glassy with regret and shame.

"Hey, A," he said, lifting the corner of his lips into a small smile."Fantastic day for a visit, man."

"Are you free to go?" Amie asked instead of greeting him, her eyes scanning the simple room.

He shrugged, wincing in pain."Hell do I know."

Gulping, Amie looked him over before turning on the backof her heel. Surely, there would need to be a doctor or—

She froze, nearly colliding with a man in the doorway. He was taller than her, bald and thin, glaring down at her from beneath his narrowed, bushy eyebrows. A police badge flashed before her eyes.

"And you are?"

Amie frowned."Who's asking?"

The cop scoffed."Are you taking responsibility for him before the trial?"

"Yes."

"No."

Amie shot a glare over her shoulder."Shut up."

For a moment, it looked as if the cop had something else to say—his sneer deepening as he raised his arm—but a flash of pain crossed Vince's features, silencing him.

"Come with me," the officer said."We need to set things in order before he can leave with you."

Amie nodded, but inside, she was screaming.

Fuck! What am I going to do?

Amie's teeth were grinding to dust as she carried the half-empty bag in one arm while doing her best to support Vince with the other. He was trying, but it was clear the agony was barely manageable.

"You gotta take it easy from now on, man," Amie said as they finally made it through the main doors, heading toward the parking lot. The heat was suffocating, and the humidity made her clothes cling to her. A few beads of sweat slowly ran down Vince's forehead. "The pills they gave us might help, but it's a straight-up three-hour drive down to the border."

"Fuck, A," Vince growled. "Don't talk about it now."

"What?"

He glared at her in pure disbelief."What if they hear us?"

She blinked at him."Sorry. I'm sorry,"Amie looked away in shame."What was I thinking?"

"It's fine," Vince assured her, though she didn't miss the way his eyes flicked around the parking lot as he wiped at his face."Doesn't look like they're followin' us."

Nodding, Amie stayed quiet until they reached the black Honda, graciously waiting for them in the scorching heat. Just the thought of the burning leather seats searing into her skin made her wish she didn't have to get in.

"That yours?" Vince asked, frowning.

"Kind of."

"Where'd you get it from?"

"Just get in, man," Amie snapped, helping him lean against the car so she could toss his bag inside. Despite the heat, a shiver slid down her spine. How could she admit the car came from Tran's?

"We gotta go."

"Nah, hold on," Vince shook his head."I wanna know where you got it from."

"Get in."

"Amie."

Glaring at him, she yanked the passenger door open with too much force and pointed inside."Get in," she commanded, leaving him to struggle into the seat. Even as she turned away, she winced at the pained groan that escaped him as he carefully lowered himself in.

"I've seen cars like this before."

"For the love of God, Vincent, fucking drop it," Amie muttered, slamming the driver's side door shut.

"Is that from Tran?"

She was trying to start the engine, but her hands were shaking too much to get the key in the ignition."Fuck off, man."

"Is it?"

"It's from his sister, you moron!" Amie snapped, whipping her head toward him."Happy?"

If this were any other situation, Amie might have laughed at the gaping expression on Vince's face. He was frozen, mouth slightly open, until his skin turned red and a vein on his forehead bulged."Get me the fuck out of here."

"What?" she exclaimed.

"I am not sitting in a car from Tran's family."

"Well, you might wanna realize it's a long way to my house," Amie growled.

"I'd rather walk for days than ride in this fucking bribe."

"Bribe?" Amie's voice rose.

"Yeah, man. They fucking killed Jesse, you forgot? Hell, he almost got us all killed!"

"I know!"

"Because of them, our family is broken."

Amie let her head fall back against the seat, eyes shutting tightly as she fought against the tears burning in her throat.

"How can you—"

"Another fucking word, and you're walking to Mexico."

Silence.

Surprisingly, Vince went quiet, but Amie could feel the tension rolling off him. The unsaid words were even louder than the ones he had spoken, and oh Lord, she wasn't sure how much longer she could take it.

"I know how bad this is, alright?" she said quietly."I… we… we lost family because of gang rivalry. We lost Jesse because of it. To a man I—"she faltered, her voice breaking."Loved."Tears welled up in her eyes, but she forced herself to meet Vince's gaze."I feel sick over it—sick over myself. Just living with myself is pure hell."She tapped the side of her head."And if I could, I would gladly trade places with Jesse. He deserved to live more than me. He was loyal. Unlike me."

The tension between them shifted.

But Amie hated the pity in Vince's eyes.

He reached for her, and only when he wiped at her cheek did she realize—she was crying.

"None of this is your fault, A."

"But it feels like it," she admitted.

That was too much honesty. She quickly started the engine, avoiding his touch.

"Let's get you home. It's time for you to have a proper-sized bed."

And as they took off, Amie Toretto knew one thing for sure—she had no idea what to do.

Ufff... I gotta say, this has been interesting. The last chapters hit hard—with her depression and panic attack. That truly struck home.

But I came back with so much love and fire, it's unreal. I finished this in two days, and Amie finally flowed back under my fingers. It was truly wonderful.

Still, I sit here thinking to myself—what am I going to do with her? The girl deserves a happy ending... but do any of the paths ahead truly lead to happiness?

One way or another, I hope you enjoyed the chapter. Until next time, darlings.