Sweet Pea and Abby were picking up his graduation gown. Poor Doris Bell was getting chewed out by Cheryl. "Prom was a bust. I just found out that Highsmith College disbanded its cheerleading squad, and now you expect me to wear some hideous blue hue at graduation? I specifically ordered crimson. Fix this or perish." She shoves the gown in the older woman's hands and walks off.
Sweets shook his head at the entitled teen. "What does Toni see exactly?"
"Maybe it's the bad girl only being nice to me that's appealing." Abby wasn't sure.
"Was that what it was when you were besties with her?" He thought she was obnoxious the day she questioned Abby about getting on the back of his bike.
"Her brother just died and I thought no one deserves to go through that pain alone. I wanted to protect her from everyone including herself." Maybe the hero complex ran in the family.
"You can't protect someone who is attacking everyone else." He grabs his gown off the shelf to fold it up.
"What are you doing?" She grabbed it from him. "You should try it on." She nods to the seamstress doing fittings.
"I don't need that." He shook his head.
"Are you kidding me? You're above average height, put it up against you." He did so, the gown went a few inches after his knees. "Looks a little ridiculous."
"Fine." He slipped the gown on and stood on the platform.
"Good, you were able to convince him. I thought I would have to tell him not to stand next to me." Fang stood beside her.
"It's a tall people problem. You wouldn't understand shortie." He put his chin to his chest like he had to look at the ground to talk to Fangs.
"I'm 5'10. I'm average height. You're a freak. Over there looking like Slender Man." He throws a jab back.
"It gets me, freaks." He winks at Abby. "Size kink."
"Why did you wink if you were just going to say it?" She laughs.
Mary sat her children down. "What's going on, Mom?" Archie asks, seeing the stress on her face.
"I wanted to talk about a call I had with a defense lawyer for your father's hit-and-run case. The judge is getting ready to make his decision. And the lawyer reached out to me, to us, as your dad's family, to see if we would be willing to make a statement in court asking the judge for leniency." She knew this would be hard for them.
"For the dad or the son?" Archie hoped that he would come clean.
When Archie first told Abby about how he tracked down his dad's killer, she was worried that he snapped. She asked if the guy was still alive. He assured her he was before telling her that he was a dad who was covering for his son, who was the real killer. Then she was livid that the son would get away with it. The only thing stopping her from outing him is Archie. He said they had to respect the dad saving his son. She reluctantly accepted it.
"Well, George Augustine plead guilty to keep his son out of it, and he's not contesting his role in the accident, but he might get a lesser sentence if we publicly forgive him." She didn't want the wrong person in prison for long.
"Forgive him?" Archie scoffs while Abby lets out a bitter laugh. "Mom, I still have nightmares about how Dad died."
"I know it's a lot to ask." She didn't know if she could at their age either. "So, maybe we could write a letter and send it, and we don't have to relive seeing him again."
"I see him every day. Ten, twenty times a day." For Archie, a letter wouldn't be easier.
"I can only imagine. Do you want to consider it at least?" She rubs his arm.
"I can't." Abby looks off to the side, not that it stops the tears from coming. "It's enough that Dad's real killer gets to go on and live a normal life. He can find love, have a successful career, and be a part of a family. My dad doesn't get to do any of that. My dad doesn't get to see Archie or me do any of that. So, if he wants to take the wrap for his son, he can do that." She walks out of the house.
She kept walking, wondering why the world kept putting difficult things in front of her. It wasn't even a year since her dad died and she was being asked to forgive his killer. She looks up at the Thistle House. She had to knock on the door for a few minutes. It made sense seeing how big the house was with only two people living in it and one of them is in a wheelchair. She took a step back to see Cheryl in silk pajamas with a bat in hand. "Abby, why are you here so late?" She lowers the bat.
"I would ask why you answer the door with a bat, but this is Riverdale." She stepped into the light.
Cheryl's heart drops at her state. Abby was shivering. Her eyes were swollen and her hair looked to have gone through a hurricane. It was a windy night. "Come inside." She grabs Abby's arm, not giving her a choice.
She sat down on the couch. She and Nana listen to Abby about her woes. "I'm wondering if you ever forgive your dad or Fp and if so then how?"
"My dad, no never. FP, it took a while but I did. He was being blackmailed. He was protecting his son. It wasn't like he could go to the police. They weren't going to believe a gang leader over a respectable businessman." She had made her peace with FP.
"You should not forgive." Nana shook her head. "They are not asking for that. That boy didn't tell you sorry. They are asking for mercy. Did that boy have mercy for your dad? No, he didn't. He drove away, leaving him for dead." Abby nodded, because she agreed with Nana, how could she forgive when he wasn't sorry?
"What you have to ask yourself is will you be able to live with yourself knowing that someone may be rotting in a prison for many years when you could have done something to help?" Cheryl grabbed her hand. "I would be able to do it and not lose a wink of sleep but you… you, Abigail Andrews, aren't going to be able to."
"I think I could." She crosses her arms.
"Well, think so more." She stood up. "You can spend the night here."
"Oh no, I don't want to put you out any more than I have." She shook her head.
"I insist." She held her hand out. Abby took it to get pulled up. "I'll let your burrow brush because you look crazy."
"Can you text Archie that I'm here? I left my house without my phone." She didn't want her family to report her missing.
Cheryl turned around to stare at her with wide eyes. "Good graces, how many times are you going to disappear on them? Sweet Pea showed up here last time he was so worried." She knew he hated asking her for help.
"I know. I run when I get overwhelmed. I need to work on it." She agrees.
"Yes, because not only do you worry people. But, you are liable to get kidnapped." Cheryl texts Archie. "Done."
"Thank you." She nods.
"We may fight, but when it counts you will be there for me. Just like I would be there for you." She smiles. Abby realized she was wrong when she answered Sweet Pea this morning. Cheryl was entitled. She would ruthlessly cut someone's throat to get what she wanted. But, she was empathic, kind, and passionate. She wouldn't turn away a friend no matter how bumpy their past was.
A man walks into the center's office. "Hello, my name is George Augustine. I'm here to..."
"I know what you're here for. I have to say you got a lot of nerve to ask me to write a letter of leniency." She stood up. She slammed her hands on the desk, leaning on it. "My leniency is not going to the authorities to tell them that you lied and that your son is responsible. I didn't even want to give you that but my brother convinced me to look the other way. I think it's an insult that you didn't think my dad is worthy of getting real justice."
"I agree, I've asked a lot of your family." He got cut off again by the angry teen.
"Yeah, and it's shameless. I'll tell you the same thing I've told my mom. If you want to take the wrap for your son, the least you can do is take the whole wrap." She couldn't believe this man was here asking for more. Hadn't he taken enough from her?
"My son took responsibility." He told her.
"It took a long time, but at least he has some honor." She sat down, feeling exhausted.
"Do you think you could write a letter for him?" He took the seat across from her.
"What?" She huffs.
"It was a horrible tragedy that happened. It was an accident. He was scared when he ran. He wasn't thinking. He's sorry." He defends his son.
"He was thinking. He was thinking of saving his own ass. If the woman that my dad was helping didn't survive and remember the license plate he would have gotten away with it. Maybe he would have felt guilty in the beginning but a few years would go by and he would have forgotten about my dad. It may have crossed his mind once in a while but those would be fleeting moments." She would have to live with his mistake, so he should too.
"My son isn't a monster." His voice raised.
"I think you're getting defensive because you know it's true. He's not sorry my dad is dead. He's sorry that you were going to pay for his actions. He's sorry that he's having to pay for it." She didn't let the large man who was getting visibly angry faze her.
"This was a horrible accident, but it doesn't have to completely rip both of our families apart." He tried to reason with her.
"Even with your son in prison. Our pains don't compare. He can call you. I can't do it. I can't call my dad for a chant or to get advice. I will never get to tell Dad I love him again." She put her head in her hands to cry. "Get out!"
"I'm sorry. I know this is emotional, but I have to ask. This is my son." He tears up at the pain that they were going through.
"And he was my father. GET OUT!" She stood up to point at the door.
The door opened to reveal Sweet Pea. "Sir, I'm going to ask you to leave." The man left the room, hoping there would be a change of heart. Sweets held his girlfriend while she sobs. "Was that George Augustine?"
She nods in her chest. "I don't want to forgive." She grabs a fist full of Sweet's shirt. "I know he would want me to but I can't."
"You don't have to do anything you don't want to." He kissed the top of her head. "I haven't forgiven the Northsider who killed my dad."
"That was a monster who killed your dad in cold blood, then tried to justify it by saying he was scared by a patch on his back. This is an accident. A teen who stole his parent's car to go to a party. He had a few drinks and thought he could drive home. When he hit my dad, he made a split-second decision to drive off. He didn't have time to process it. Logically, I know this but I still can't find it in my heart to forgive him." She moves to look out the window and sees the kids hanging around the center. "I look at them. If one of them made the same mistake I would want the family to write that letter. I've tried to write it but I can't."
"I think your hearts are going to catch up with your head. When that happens you might regret not writing that letter." Sweets put his chin on her head to look out the window.
"Cheryl said the same thing." She knew it was true if they both thought so.
"Don't group us together." He groans.
"Facts are facts." She laughs at his disgusted face.
"Hey, kid." Uncle Frank came into her room.
"You came out of hiding because of Archie's rage freakouts." She wonders.
"I'm also here for the runaway." He sat down on the bed.
"I was being stupid. I shouldn't have run in the dark with no phone." She realized how much danger she put herself in. "I don't know why but when I get overwhelmed I run. It's a bad instinct that I have. It was not until I stopped running that I realized how selfish it is. By then I'm too scared to go back. I wait until I'm found." She tucks her knee to her chest.
"I get running." He had done it himself many times. "I recently got the courage to stop."
"I should be able to understand the Augustine kid. I know I should write that letter but I can't." She looks at the blank paper on the desk.
"What do you want your writing to say?" He asks.
"I want the judge to know that I've been deeply hurt. Even though it was an accident there should be consequences for his actions. But, not so harsh that he'll be an old man when he comes out." She gets up to hand him her first attempt.
"I can see the problem." He nods after reading. '
"I keep spitting hatred then at the end say but don't give him life. I tried to be nice." She hands the second attempt.
"You were nice for three sentences." He grabbed the next paper. "This one just says don't be too harsh, dude."
"Can I just sign my name with Archie's letter? He's the writer. I'm the analyzer." She points at herself.
"Then analyze." He thought it was simple.
"But, isn't the point to sound heartfelt and touching? Analyzing is logical and cold." She plays with the pen.
"Got to be better than this." He held up the three papers.
"Dear Honorable Judge Britton," She looks at Sweet Pea sitting on her bed.
"It's a good start." He nods.
"As teens, our frontal lobe isn't fully developed. It's the part of the brain that helps us make decisions. It's the part that weighs out the pros and cons. Therefore, Mr. Augustine was incapable of making a sound decision when he hit my dad. He was a teen who was already in over his head, driving without a license and under the influence. The alcohol further impaired his judgment. I do believe there need to be consequences to people's actions, accidents or not, especially when a life is lost. But, there is no reason for Mr. Augustine to lose his life as well." She took a deep breath. "Sincerely, Abigail Andrews."
"It's very you." He smiles.
"Thank you. Uncle Frank helped me. Believe me, it was the best." She hands him the three attempts.
"Oh, this was kind of a threat." He looks at the second paper.
"I know, but it was cathartic. Without the rage drafts, I wouldn't have gotten to this one." She liked this one. She could send it off knowing she did all she could for him.
"You feel better." He wasn't asking. He could tell by the way she was carrying herself.
"Yeah, I am." She could get through anything with the people she had by her side. She hugs him. "What's happening?" He hugs her back nonetheless.
"Just appreciating you." She squeezed him.