"Hunter knows what happened to your sister."

I looked at Hunter with wide eyes. "You... what?" My voice was a mere whisper as my heart began to pound inside my chest. "You know what happened to Delilah?"

Hunter tore his eyes away from Charlie, meeting my gaze. His lips parted to speak yet no words escaped.

"W-what is he talking about?"

Hunter looked to the floor, responding with silence.

Turning my attention to Charlie, I asked, "What does he know?" As another one of my questions was met with no response, the anger from within me began to rise, heating my skin. "Oh, so now you decide to stay quiet?"

"Angel, please," Hunter said, finally speaking. "It's not that simple."

"What the fuck is that supposed to mean?" I spat. "Tell me what you know, Hunter!"

Hunter slowly raised his head, letting me see the sad look in his eyes. Yet, it did nothing to soften how I was feeling; instead, it only made it worse.

"I can't," he answered.

"You... can't?" I scoffed. "You know what happened to my sister and you can't tell me? What did you do? Sign some blood oath?" Glancing between the two of them, I shook my head in disbelief. "Fine. Don't tell me."

Pushing past Hunter, I quickly went back inside my apartment and headed straight for my bedroom, grabbing a sweater from my closet. Searching my apartment for the rest of my necessities, I grabbed my phone and keys and quickly shoved them into my purse. Slipping a pair of shoes on, I hurried out the front door and slammed it shut.

"Where are you going?" Hunter's voice called out as I walked towards the stairs. "Angel!"

I did my best to ignore him, quickening my pace so I could hurry down as fast as I possibly could. The sound of his feet loudly followed behind me, edging closer with each step. Reaching the lobby floor, I felt a hand lightly grab hold of my arm.

"Angel, please-"

"Don't touch me!" I snapped, pulling my arm from his grasp.

"Where are you going?"

I turned towards the door, ignoring his question. Why did he deserve to know? After all, he couldn't give me the same respect by answering what I had asked. Exiting my apartment building, I walked towards the edge of the sidewalk and waved down a cab. I was lucky to live on a busy enough street where cabs passed by waiting for customers. If they didn't, I wasn't sure I would be able to make such a quick escape and follow through with my current plan.

Opening the rear passenger door, Hunter's voice once again called out, "Angel, wait, please!"

Slowly turning to face him, I let out a shaky breath. "I'm giving you one last chance, Hunter," I said, attempting to keep my voice as calm as I possibly could. "What do you know?"

My heart sank with disappointment as his eyes averted mine. I couldn't begin to understand any of this; how, why or even when he found out whatever he knew. He knew something about my family. And yet, couldn't even tell me. Me. The person he supposedly loved.

Turning my head away from him, I dunked down and got into the car. As I reached for the door, Hunter grabbed hold, stopping me from doing so.

"Please, Angel. You don't understand, I-"

"No," I snapped, quickly cutting him off. "You don't understand, Hunter. This isn't one of your stupid games. This is about my sister. You-" Stopping myself, I sunk my teeth into my lower lip.

"I'm sorry. I wish I could tell you but it's not my place."

"Fine." Gripping the car door, I met his gaze. "Let me go, Hunter."

Hunter nodded, slowly backing away from the door and allowing me to slam it shut.

"You alright, mam?"

My head shot up, hearing the unrecognizable voice. For a split second, I had forgotten I wasn't alone. I gave the man a sympathetic smile and nodded. "Yes, I am."

"Where to?"

"One-zero-eight Orchard Street, please."

I leaned back in my seat, fighting the urge to look out the window and see if Hunter was still standing there. Before my weakness got the best of me, the driver started the meter and began the drive. Grabbing my phone out of my purse, I dialled Abby's number. Trying to think of how I was going to possibly explain myself to her, I chewed my bottom lip as I listened to the ringing.

"Pickle?" Abby's voice grumbled from the other end of the call. "Why the fuck are you calling me in the middle of the night?"

"It's after eight, Abs."

"Same thing."

"Do you have work this morning?"

Abby loudly yawned. "I don't..." She let herself trail off before adding, "Please don't tell me you need me to come pack. I thought pretty boy was-"

"Would you be able to come pick me up from somewhere?"

"Oh god, Dylan! Don't tell me you're at-"

"No, I'm not." I quickly cut her off, not wanting to hear the name of the guy who was possibly still standing outside my apartment. "I'm on my way to my parent's house right now."

"Your parent's house?" She repeated. "Dyl, are you okay? You sound different, or something, and it's freaking me out."

"I'm fine." I knew that answer wasn't one hundred percent true, but I could not tell how much of a lie it was either. In fact, at this very moment, I was struggling to determine how I was actually feeling.

"That was convincing," she snorted. "Do you mind if Jake drives? I'm at his now and if I go home-"

"That's fine." I kept my eyes focused on the window, watching the cab take a turn down a familiar street. "I'm not sure how long this is going to take."

"It's okay. We'll come now," she said, her tone instantly providing some comfort. "Jake, get up. Get. Up. Jake-"

"I'll text you the address."

After a brief goodbye, I nervously twiddled my fingers. I could feel my heart racing, watching each house that passed by from my view. I did my best to calm myself down. However, when the cab slowed to a stop and my family's home came into view, all that effort was instantly lost.

Quickly fishing through my wallet, I paid the driver and got out of the car. There was no turning back now. Every time my desire to know crept its way to the surface, I always did everything in my power to push it far away. I wasn't doing that anymore. Everyone else seemed to know about the things that happened in my life. It was time for me to finally know as well.

Walking towards the house, my hands subconsciously went to my hair, combining it with my fingers. Regardless of the situation, my mother had a talent for including backhanded compliments into any conversation. I knew her snide remarks were inevitable, yet I couldn't but still try to limit the number that would be thrown my way.

Ringing the doorbell, I stood rather impatiently. Adrenaline appeared to be getting the best of me at the moment. I silently prayed that the door would open before any of my courage had to slip away. I was here for answers. I deserved these answers. Besides, what more did I have to lose?

The front door opened and a smidge of calmness spread throughout my body as I saw Rosia standing there. To be honest, I had no idea how she continued to work for my mother after all these years. I was grateful that she somehow managed. Otherwise, I would dread coming home more than I already did - if that was even possible.

"Miss Dylan!" Rosia greeted with a radiating smile. "Mrs. Miller did not say you were coming! Do-"

"They don't know," I quickly interjected, seeing the worry lines beginning to appear on the older woman's face. Clearing my throat, I added, "Just a... last-minute decision, I guess you could say."

Rosia nodded, stepped to the side. "Your parents are in the dining room having breakfast. Would you like me to make you a plate?"

"No, that's alright."

Walking inside the house, an eerie draft passed through. There was always an odd feeling that crept inside me when standing in the entryway. The walls, painted with a warm, welcoming colour, had various family photos and portraits that hung in gold frames. Large bouquets of flowers were on every table surface you could spot. Yet the further you walked into the home, it was easy to see how sparse the family images were. Even the flowers seemed dull in their colour. This house, much like the family that lived inside it, played a trick on anyone who entered.

"Oh look, Andrew," the sound of my mother's voice pulled me from my thoughts, "If it isn't our budding artist. Have you finally come to your senses about your education?"

"I did come to my senses. That's why I deferred for a year."

Mother scoffed as she took a sip from her teacup. "Oh, please, Dylan." She placed the delicate china onto the saucer without a sound. "You really think painting is going to lead to a fulfilling life?"

As I stood observing the two of them from the opposite end of the table, I realized it wasn't just my mother who was fake. It was both of them. Even at breakfast, with no one else around, the two of them still put on their act. I wasn't even sure my father left the house anymore for work, yet here he was dressed in a three-piece suit for breakfast. Sitting across from him was my mother, with her infamous pearl earrings and matching necklace, wearing a dress better suited for an event at the country club than a bowl of fruit at the breakfast table.

"What happened to Delilah?"

The spoon my mother had been holding fell from her hand and landed on her plate, letting an audible crash fill the silence. She cleared her throat, quickly regaining her composure, forcing a smile onto her lips. "Whatever do you mean, dear?" She asked, keeping her eyes down. "You know what happened. She went to boarding school. Fell in love with Europe. End of story."

"Bullshit."

"Watch your language, Dylan," Father voiced nonchalantly.

"I want the truth!"

Flipping to the next page of his newspaper, he responded with a simple, "That is the truth."

I was taken aback by his demeanour. I couldn't even recall if he had looked in my direction since I had arrived.

"I don't mean the fake story. I mean the real story." I quickly swallowed my fear. "I know talking isn't something we actually do in this family. I mean, god forbid I was allowed to ask anything the morning I woke up and Delilah didn't come down for breakfast. And you two sat there," my index finger pointed towards the two spots they were currently in, "And acted like nothing happened. Made me feel crazy for thinking I had heard her screaming and crying in the middle of the night. So, congratulations, I guess for successfully brainwashing me all these years into accepting that overnight Delilah just decided to leave and that it was perfectly normal for her to never come home for any holiday, or even call, or write a fucking letter."

Father cleared his throat. "Dylan," he said cooly, "Language, please."

"Would you put the newspaper down and look at me!" I cried out.

His narrowed eyes made me immediately wish his focus was still on the paper. "We did what we had to do to protect this family."

"Protect us from what?"

"Andrew," Mother pipped softly, "Don't."

"No, Denise. She wants to know the truth? Fine." He turned his attention to me. "Your sister got pregnant," he sneered. "Our Delilah... seventeen and pregnant. And she had the nerve to tell us she not only wanted to keep it but to marry the boy who got her knocked up."

"Pregnant," I whispered in disbelief. My brows furrowed as I attempted to understand. "So you sent her somewhere to hide with her baby?"

"No, of course not." He leaned forward. "I got her on the first flight to take care of the situation."

"Cared for?"

"To get rid of that thing. I told her once she did, she could come home and everything could return to normal."

Mother abruptly stood from the table, causing the chair to scratch against the wood floor. "Excuse me," she announced before hurrying out of the room.

My eyes followed her as she exited, catching the distraught look in her eye. It was a surprising emotion to see her have. In fact, it felt completely unnatural coming from her.

"Delilah never came home," I stated, looking back at the unrecognizable man in front of me. "Did she even go to Europe?"

"Of course she went to Europe, Dylan. I would never lie about her whereabouts." He spoke as if him being honest at this point was a given. "Once I found a suitable facility with the most highly recommended doctors, your mother reached out to her extended family so Delilah would have a place to stay until she was ready to come home."

"But, Delilah never came home," I repeated. "So, she stayed? And you just let her?"

"That was her decision. She greatly disappointed me after she decided to get knocked up by some out-of-state boy. I can sure as hell tell you I wasn't upset when she didn't return home to disgrace this family further."

There it was. The one thing the Miller family hated most of all: disappointment.

"How could you do that to your own daughter?" I questioned. "Delilah came to you and you just sent her off to fix it. Did she even want it to be-"

"Who cares what she wanted!" Father raised his voice. "She was a child. She was going to ruin her future and I wanted to protect her from doing that."

I shook my head in disbelief from everything I was hearing. "You're a monster."

"Oh, please." He waved off my comment. "Don't let that act your mother just pulled try to fool you. She was the one that arranged the entire thing."

After all these years, I finally knew the truth. They forced her away to "fix" what they deemed a disappointment. I could only imagine how scared she must have been to go through it all and frankly, I couldn't blame her at all for never coming home. I turned towards the door. All I could think of at this moment was getting out of this house and tracking Delilah down. I had to see her and ensure she was okay. Still alive, even. It didn't seem like anyone else in this family bothered to do so.

"Such a shame the two of you turned out to be such disappointments."

I abruptly stopped, turning around once again. Father had already resumed his reading of the daily newspaper.

"You know what?" I spat. "You're the disappointing one. You are a sad, pathetic excuse of a parent. And I'm sure this will come as quite a shock, but you don't get to toss your children away the moment they do something that doesn't follow the plan you set out. My entire life I worked hard to impress you. I kept my mouth shut and I never shed a tear in public because you said emotions were a weakness." The anger I had subconsciously pushed down throughout this entire visit was rising to uncontrollable levels. "Every year I was on the debate team, chess club, student council, and the tennis team... all while maintaining straight A's. I got into the school you wanted me to go to. I took the program you wanted me to take. And I take one year off to figure out what I want... and suddenly I'm a disappointment."

I paused, realizing the chance of him actually listening was small. However, that didn't stop me from continuing. "Delilah is strong and brave for doing what she did. All because you and mother needed your reputation to continue appearing perfect for those horrible acquaintances you see once a year. And you couldn't care less." Crossing my arms over my chest, I shook my head. "So go ahead and call me a disappointment. But she is not one."

"Yes, what a shame to waste all that hard work," he muttered without looking up. "We did everything we could to ensure you wouldn't make the same mistakes. If only we had done more when that horrible boyfriend of yours had shown up."

"Hunter? What does he have to do with any of this?"

"He happily accepted a very generous cheque to stay away from you." A twisted grin appeared as he let a chuckle escape. "You really know nothing about the people around you, my dear."

Opening my mouth to speak, every word I wanted to say seemed to instantly die before I had the chance. Every bit of information was sinking in, sending a pain of pressure throughout my body as it did. Each breath became heavier than the last, turning such an easy task into one that was becoming increasingly difficult to do.

I needed out. Out of this house. Out of this family. Out of this fake life they had built.

Hurrying down the hallway, I was tempted to knock over one of the family portraits they had on the walls. I quickly pushed that thought to the side. I wouldn't put it past them to send me a bill for damages, and repairing a gold frame was not in my current budget.

"Dylan, wait."

Pausing at the front door, I turned my head over my shoulder to see my mother standing only a few feet away.

"Do you have a place to stay?"

My suspicions began to slightly grow due to her sudden concern. "I'll be at Abby's. And, don't worry, all my stuff will be moved out by the end of the week."

She nodded.

"Do you realize how fucked up all of this is?" I whispered. "Sending your daughter off to get an abortion and hiding her away? Were you that worried about some women at the country club gossiping about you for two weeks before they moved onto something else?"

"Dylan, please," she said, taking a step closer. "It's much more complex than you think."

"Well, I hope it was worth it. Because now both of your daughters won't be speaking to you. But thank god you have your reputation."

Mother stood, nodding her head once again. "I understand," she said. God, she was horrible at making any type of real conversation. She reached for a black scarf box from the entry table. "Take this."

I raised a brow. "What is this? Some type of parting gift?"

"Open it when you are at Abby's."

Reluctantly, I took the box. This woman always had an interesting way of handling situations. Most of the time that resulted in money being thrown at a problem. Apparently, finding out the truth about your sister was no different.

Reaching for the door handle, I stopped myself one last time. "Did you really pay Hunter to stay away from me?"

"Yes," she answered simply.

"Was it a lot?" I wasn't sure I even wanted to know, yet I couldn't help but ask anyway.

"Depends on whether you can put a price on love."

If I had been asked whether I thought someone could put a price on love this morning, I would have said no. Now, I wasn't so sure. Even when I thought I could trust Hunter, when I thought I could open my heart up to him once again, there was just another thing tearing us apart.

Stepping outside, the fresh air did little to provide any relief to the constricted feeling in my chest. Noticing Abby's car at the end of the driveway, I walked towards it, quickening my pace with each step I took. The desire to get as far away from the house as possible was evident. There was a lingering fear in the back of my mind that somehow the front door would open and pull me back in.

Abby got out of the passenger side. "You look like you just saw a ghost. What happened in there?"

"Delilah. I asked about her," my breathing was heavy as I spoke.

"Holy shit!"

I nodded. "I'll explain it all to you in the car."

Stepping towards the car, Abby reached out to touch my arm.

"Pickle," she said softly, nudging her head to the side.

Glancing over, I noticed what Abby was pointing out. Hunter sat on the curb with his head resting in his hands.

"How long has he been here?"

"Not sure. We got here about fifteen minutes ago and he was already sitting there," Abby explained. "Jake tried to talk to him but he wouldn't say anything. Did something happen last-"

"I'll explain it all later," I said, not wanting to dive into all the details at this exact moment. "Can you wait in the car? And, take this," I handed over the small black box.

Abby nodded, heading into the car without another word.

With my arms crossed over my chest, I begrudgingly walked towards him. As I drew closer, his head turned. Noticing my presence, Hunter scrambled to his feet.

"Here to get some more money?"

"Angel, it's not what you think-"

"Not what I think?" I spat. "Did you or did you not accept money to stay away from me?"

Hunter ran his hand through his hair, letting out a sigh. "Yes, but-"

"But nothing! Last night you said it was because of my relationship with them. You said nothing about them paying you off!"

"I wasn't lying about that part-"

"Oh, I'm sorry," I interjected. "When you said you being honest, how stupid of me to think you would be telling me everything! You-" Quickly stopping myself, my eyes narrowed. "Is that why you told me you loved me last night? To get more money out of them?"

"What? No!" Hunter stepped forward, placing his hand on my cheek. "Everything I said last night was real. I couldn't be honest about the money without telling you about her." He stopped himself. Leaning closer, he softly said, "I love you, Angel. Let's just go somewhere to talk and figure this all out."

I wanted to kiss him and I hated myself for it. Hunter knew what he was doing; he was pulling me back in.

"No," I said, pushing his hand away from my face. "I'm not going anywhere with you until I know more."

Hunter nodded. "Of course."

"How did you find out about my sister?"

He cleared his throat. "Well, I, uh," he stumbled on his words, averting his eyes from mine. "I knew her- kind of, I mean-"

My eyes widened at the sudden thought. "Oh my god... Did you get her pregnant?"

"Preg-" Hunter's head snapped up, appearing like a deer caught in headlights. "No! I didn't! Why would you think I-"

I held my hands up in defence. "I don't know! You're closer to her age than you are to mine! And it's not like anyone is being very forthcoming with their information. How could my mind not go there?"

"I might be a lot of things but I'm not that type of guy!"

I couldn't be honest about the money without telling you about her.

"How long have you known?"

"About?"

"Don't play dumb, Hunter." I snapped. "How long have you known about my sister?" The silence between us caused my heart to sink further down to the pit of my stomach. "Days?" I asked. "Weeks?" I could hear my own voice begin to tremble. "Months?" Biting the inside of my cheek, I impatiently waited for the answer. "How long, Hunter."

"I've known since our first date."

\\

a lil confused? good. don't worry about it.

ugh I gotta go be social now.

stay safe my angels xo