(Emily, I'm Sorry)
ACT ONE — CHAPTER FIVE

2021

Emily was just trying to read her book, and drown her emotions in white wine, in peace. However between the insistent calls she was receiving from her own mother, and Daisy's boredom, she was having a highly difficult time.

The feet of the wooden chair scraped against the floor as Daisy moved to sit at the kitchen table.

Emily closed her book slowly, skimming the last few words on the page, before looking up at her daughter.

"I got the mail, Mom," she carefully set down the stack of mail, and continued, "I also took out the garbage and did the dishes."

Emily narrowed her eyes at the teenager, "What is it that you want? You never do stuff like this unless you want something."

Daisy leaned forward against the table, "Can I pretty please go to the movies with a friend? I'll be home by curfew. I swear!"

The blonde sighed, "You know you just got suspended right?"

Emily's phone vibrated on the table, a call from her mother coming through. She declined the call, and looked back at Daisy.

"And you're trying to go to the movies?"

Daisy looked confused, "Why are you ignoring Grandma's calls?"

"Well honey, quite frankly your grandmother is pissing me off." Emily crossed her arms, "Now stop trying to change topics. You're not going out."

Daisy rolled her eyes, "Mom. It's just the movies."

"Yes, and you're suspended. No movies." Emily stated, "Plus you're supposed to go to dinner with your father tonight. He wants to discuss something with you."

"This sucks." Daisy sighed, "Can't you just let it slide, once? Please?"

Emily refused to fall for the puppy dog eyes, she shook her head.

"Suspension means you're also grounded."  Emily quipped.

"This is so unfair!" The blonde teenager basically stomped away.

"Think about that before you punch someone next time!" Emily called after her.

"Teenagers." She sighed, reaching over for the mail.

Emily turned over the postcard and her stomach dropped. The terrifying symbol seemed to have spilled back over into her reality.

It was supposed to stay where it belongs. In the past and in her nightmares.

"What the fuck?" Emily whispered, slamming the postcard back against the table.

First the journalist and now this?

After seeing that symbol in a fully conscious state, all logic was pretty much out the window. Emily had to figure out who the hell sent it.

And she knew exactly where to start.

Emily hadn't seen her sister in a year, she had been basically giving her the silent treatment, Ash got herself thrown back in jail once again.

Ash took it really hard when Lottie was sent to Switzerland.

But it had been years, it was time for her to move on. Time for her to improve her life and get her act together.

"Oh so the silence is finally broken." Ash stated leaning against the cool table.

Emily kept her distance from the cold table, "I'm not here to chit-chat Ash."

"Figured as much, Emy." Ash forced a small smile, "I'm assuming this means you got the postcard too?"

"Yeah, I did." She admitted, clenching her jaw.

Emily's sister could tell there was something off with her, and that's when the realization slapped her in the face.

"You think I sent them?"

The blonde pressed her lips together, "Well did you?"

"Jesus Christ, Emily." Ash shook her head with a sigh, "I didn't fucking send them. Is this what you think of me? That I'd blackmail you?"

Emily sighed folding her hands together, trying to prevent her own nervous habit from resurfacing once again.

"Well, who else would it be, Ash?" She questioned, avoiding Ash's eyes.

"I don't know, what about a psychotic curly haired blonde?" Ash deadpanned.

"Misty." Emily realized, "Fuck. Why didn't I think of that?"

"Yeah, I don't know," Ash shrugged, "But I'm not really interested in speaking to you right now."

Emily frowned, "I'm really sorry, Ash— I wasn't thinking straight."

"Yeah, whatever." Ash rolled her eyes, "I'll see you the next time you have an accusation for me."

"Ash—"

It was too late to go back on the conversation now. Emily was left alone at the table, thinking, planning.

She was going to find Misty Quigley.

Emily arrived to Misty's house in the darkness, she clearly wasn't home. Which honestly was better for the woman.

It gave her the upper hand.

"Well here we are again," Emily muttered under her breath, "Breaking," she crouched down in front of the door knob, picking at the lock with a kit that lived under the passenger seat of her car.

"And entering." She sighed relieved, as the lock clicked open.

Emily silently slipped in through the door, and within moments the lights flickered on.

Fuck. Emily reached for her gun, spinning on her heel only to find a brunette woman holding her own gun.

The blonde's initial reaction were tears building at the brink of her eyes. Recognition painted across her face, "Nat." She whispered.

Emily's stance slightly faltered the gun lowering on reflex.

Natalie on the other hand did not seem to have much of a reaction on the surface.

"Wha—What the hell are you doing here?" Emily asked, still not fully lowering her own gun.

"What am I doing here? What are you doing here?" Natalie questioned, unmoving.

"I'm here for Misty. About the damn postcards!" Emily lowered her gun, clicking the safety back into place, "And I assume you are too."

Natalie watched the other woman's movements carefully, not really responding to Emily's observation.

"Okay," Emily breathed, "So you're not talking to me then?"

"You can go, Emily. I've got it from here." Natalie spoke, avoiding eye contact with the other woman.

"Wow." Emily pursed her lips in annoyance, "You're trying to make me leave?"

There was no way in hell Emily was leaving without speaking to Misty. And after seeing Natalie, so close after all these years she was even less inclined to leave.

"Do what you want Emily." Natalie stated, "Just don't fuck up my plan."

"And what's your plan exactly?" Emily crossed her arms, pulling her jacket tighter around her torso. Misty's house was cold as hell.

Natalie ignored the question, taking up her original position, "Do me a favor and turn out the lights?"

"So what? We're just gonna sit here in the dark until Misty shows up?"

"Precisely."

It took surprisingly little time before Misty showed up, the door creaking open.

From where Emily was sitting she didn't have a clear line of sight to the door, unfortunately. Misty and her date entered talking about birds, which was so very Misty of her.

"—is a real sweetheart, really. But do shield your eyes if he comes at your face." Misty warned the man turning to face the dark room where Natalie and Emily were waiting.

Misty clapped a couple of times, the lights switching on and flooding the room. Misty stopped in her tracks when she spotted Natalie.

"Hello Misty," Natalie sat on the white end table, gun in hand, "you crazy fucking bitch."

"Okay, yeah." Misty's date reached for the doorknob, "I'm out of here."

"Hey, Nat." Misty smiled, seemingly not that alarmed.

But hey, as Natalie had said, Misty was a crazy fucking bitch.

"And me." Emily revealed herself.

Misty looked between the two, pleasantly surprised, "Oh my god." She smiled, "Are you two back together?"

Emily could barely resist the urge to let her jaw drop, "Woah—No."

The truth was that Emily still cared about Natalie.

A lot.

And Natalie didn't even respond, "I take it you know why I'm—we're here."

"The postcard." Misty spoke, and Natalie pulled out her postcard.

"Yeah," she tossed it at the curly haired woman, "The fucking postcard."

Misty bent down to retrieve it, then examining it, "So what does it mean?"

"You're asking us?" Emily deadpanned, "Seriously?"

The woman was angry.

She didn't know if it was because of Misty's question necessarily—or if it was the whole seeing Nat again thing.

Natalie stood up pointing her gun at Misty, "You tell me."

"Natalie!" Emily exclaimed, "Is that really necessary?"

"Oh don't try to do that." Natalie rolled her eyes at her ex, "Don't try to be the mediator when you showed up here with a gun of your own and the same idea."

Emily grimaced, the other woman always had a point. In her defense though, just because she brought it didn't mean she was actually going to use the gun.

"Aww, the two of you think, I sent it." Misty paused and then held up her finger, "Well hold that thought."

Misty started down the hallway and the other two trailed behind her.

"Seriously, Nat." Emily whispered, "Put the gun down."

"No." Natalie shook her head, "I'll put it down when I want to put it down."

Misty dug through a cabinet pulling out a postcard, she held it up, "I didn't send it, silly. I got one to!"

Natalie accepted the postcard from her, examining it. Emily hovering over her shoulder, much closer than Natalie would've liked.

"It came in the mail about a week ago," Misty started, "It's from an online app so the post mark on the envelope is useless."

Natalie looked back at Emily for a moment, "How do I know you didn't send it to yourself."

"Well, I could ask either of you the same thing." Misty replied, looking between the two of them, and then she shrugged, "So I guess we'll all just have to believe each other."

Misty turned around back to her cabinet, "So, who's next on your suspect list?"

Emily pressed her lips together, "Don't flatter yourself, Misty. You were the second person on my suspect list."

Misty laughed, and Natalie turned to Emily, "Who was first?"

"I'd rather not talk about it." She sighed, "It wasn't my brightest moment."

"I have a lot of theories, but I am curious who was first on yours." Misty started, "Oh! Do you want something to drink? I've got tea, I've got coconut leqrio, I have Sherry in the cupboard."

Natalie sighed, "I'm gonna need something a little stronger than that."

Emily frowned, but knowing it wasn't her place to argue, she kept her mouth shut. Plus, she could go for something strong herself.