Enter Player Name: Noah

"Riley, is everything okay?" I asked as I approached her. Confused at what had caused that pained look in her eyes. I tried to cradle her arms, to comfort her, but as soon as our skin made contact, she stepped away.

"Umm...yeah, just the onion's got into my eye... I... umm, I need a second to wash my face. Can I...umm... go to the bathroom?" She looked around the room as if looking for a route to escape.

I was lost as to what had happened. Onions could explain tears, but not the way her face slightly contorted in pain. The look of complete devastation. "Yeah, do you want me to show you?"

"No, I remember."

Before I could say anything further, Riley rushed past me. Her head hung low. All of our questioning looks were evaded and dismissed. When she had to pass by my father, her body tensed. Despite the fact that he had moved out the way, Riley almost crashed into the wooden door frame as she walked as far away from him as possible.

"Let's get this cleaned up while she freshens up." My mother snapped her hands together — an attempt to snap the room back to life. Yet, the atmosphere felt heavy. Awkward. At least I did.

In silence, we cleaned the spilled potatoes, which were now rendered useless for dinner. The fall had cracked their softened boiled skins open, allowing their insides to spread everywhere. My mother lamented not being able to make the planned potato salad.

We waited. Yet time passed and Riley had not returned. Eventually, we began to set the table for dinner.

"Noah, why don't you go check on Riley while we finish up here?"

"Sure, mom," I said. I walked out of the kitchen and made my way to the nearest bathroom. The sound of running water alerted me that Riley was inside.

"Riley? Are you in there?" I knocked twice.

I shuffled in my feat, uncomfortably waiting for any sign of life. Eventually, a muffled and rough voice came from inside. "Yeah, just a second."

The sound of running water stopped, and Riley exited into the hallway. She held a slight smile on her face, but it looked like a struggle to keep in place. There were light red circles around her eyes.

"Are you sure you are okay?" I asked.

"Yeah."

I wanted to ask again, but her look stopped me. In a silent gaze, she communicated her desire to walk away. "Dinner is ready. We can wait a bit before walking over?"

"No. It's fine." She said. Cut and dry.

"Okay." Typically I would have offered her my arm in an over-the-top gesture. But her unwavering posture told me she wouldn't find it amusing this time.

We made our way through the corridors until we arrived at the dining room. The table was set at the center. The room at times felt more like a green-house than a place for dinner. One of its walls was made entirely of glass. It gave a perfect look into the gardens, which had begun to turn various shades with the coming season. Within, different species of tropical plants decorated the edges of the room. A chandelier hung from the center and illuminated the flowers down below. On the table, shiny silverware was neatly placed around china plates. In between the freshly cooked food were candles and flower arrangements. No detail had been overlooked.

"Noah! Riley! You finally made it in. We were beginning to worry," my mother exclaimed from the head of the table. Opposite to her was my father. Jay and Mikey sat patiently at the right edge. That left the window glass wall seats open for Riley and me.

"Were you able to freshen up, sweetheart?" My mother asked.

"Yes, Ms. Jane." Riley's words were brief and concise.

My mother's eyebrows furrowed at the sudden unfamiliarity in her tone.

"I hope you all enjoy the food," my mother announced the start of the dinner.

"So..." — my father spoke — "it's wonderful to meet you all. My son, Noah, has told me a lot about you."

"Has he now?" Riley asked. Her face was as neutral as aboard.

"Yes, especially about you. I don't think I have ever seen him so smitten," my father chuckled. I would have laughed too if it were not for Riley's unflinching face.

"It is quite cute, is it not," my mother contributed, adding a nervous laugh to lighten the mood.

"So, how did you all enjoy your day?" My dad asked, looking around the table. When his eyes passed by Riley, she did not return the look.

"We mostly spend the day in the game room," Jay answered. Perhaps, he sensed Riley's discomfort.

"Ohh, that room. I keep telling Jane that we should repurpose it. No one really uses it after Noah moved out."

"Nwooo!" Mikey exclaimed. "I can play in it!"

"Oh, can you now?" My father smiled at Mikey's earnest face.

"YAHH! I'll play with it!"

"Hahaha." My father's deep chuckle vibrated through the room. "I guess we must keep it then, mustn't we Jane?"

I noticed Riley's hand clench around the glass. Riley, what's wrong?

"Yes! You guys should come around more often. I miss having a little one running around?"

"That's funny." Riley laughed dryly. "So do my parents."

"Oh yes..."

The room falls silent.

"Yes, Noah has told me about that. I do hope I can help you out with your predicament," my father spoke. His shoulders slightly fell, as if suddenly a heavyweight had been placed there.

Riley snorted, "predicament? That sure is one way to say it."

"Riley?" I placed my hand on her knee and gave it a squish. I had hoped it would help calm her emotions, but it seemed to fuel them further if anything.

"I'm sorry I did not mean to insult. It's just the lingo I am used to," my father answered. His words were hesitant.

Riley's gaze remained glued to the center of the table. I feared what thoughts were currently running through her head.

"I do hope my husband can help with your situation. He has managed to help some people throughout his years as a judge. Sadly, he tells me so many fall through the cracks," my mother added.

Something snapped within Riley. Her eyes narrowed, and her hand clenched around the glass.

'SNAPPP'

The glass shattered in Riley's hands and scattered throughout the table. Her hand opened, but she did not look panicked at the glass fragments buried deep in her skin. When blood began to leak out, my heart panicked. As fast as I could, I stood. The chair under me fell on the floor from the force.

Everyone stood in worry. My mother scrambled to find a napkin and quickly wrapped it around Riley's hand. Riley doesn't even seem to notice.

"Sis, are you awkay?" Mikey's voice is the only thing that snapped her out of the trance she was under. Riley finally looked around and realization set in. Her gaze fixates on her hand in horror, causing her to get lost in her mind once again.

"I'm sorry," Riley said blandly.

"Where's the medkit?" I asked my mother. Her unnecessary apology meant nothing to me. Because at the current moment, the only thing I cared about was her injured hand.

"First-floor common bathroom." My mother pointed to the exit.

I held Riley's injured hand and guided her out. We silently walked out of the room and made our way into the bathroom. I cringed when I unwrapped the blood-stained cloth. The glass was deeply embedded in her skin. I didn't know what to say. Part of me wanted to scold her for being careless. Yet, that disconnected expression stopped all words in my mouth.

So, I focused on the task at hand. The door of the cabinet under the sink creaked as I pushed it open. After scavenging for the characteristic red case for what felt like far too long, I snatched it out. With it in hand, I made my way over to Riley.

"This might hurt," I warned Riley as I held the sterile tongs. "Hold onto me if it's too much."

While holding her hand over the sink, I used the tongs and began to pull shard after shard out. Her face contorted in pain, but she did not scream. Her teeth clamped down on her lips so hard that I thought they would begin to bleed. Every shard that I pulled, I expected her to cry. But she never did.

My eyes focused on her hand and examined every inch for any missed shards. Once I am sure there are none, I gently poured water over her hand and washed the coagulating blood away.

While holding the alcohol bottle over her hand, I tightened my hold on her wrist to ensure it stayed in place. "We should sterilize it to be safe. You ready?"

She nodded.

Riley's face twisted in pain as I poured the alcohol on her wounded hand. Her other one clung to the edge of the sink. A painful grunt escaped her lips. "FUCKING!FUCK!FUCK!" There was some relief in her voice — some consolation at finally letting her frustration out, all under the semblance of pain.

"Is it better?" I asked when her curses finally subsided.

"Yeah," she answered. Her shoulders hung low. Eyes were unfocused. And breath was short.

When I was satisfied that her hand had been adequately tended to, I wrapped it in medical cloth. Using medical tape, I fasten the bandage in place. Even though it's no longer necessary, I still held her hand.

My forehead gently rested against hers and, finally, a sigh of relief escaped from my lips. Knowing she was no longer in pain allowed my heartbeat to return to its average pace. When I finally made eye contact, I asked, "Riley, what happened out there?"

She did not answer.

I tried to catch her attention by carefully lifting her chin. But she smacked my hand away. She whispered something, but her voice was too low for any words to be deciphered.

"What was that?" I asked.

"I hate you," Riley said, louder this time.

"What?" I asked back in confusion. The unexpectedness of her words caused me to fumble back away from her slightly.

"I hate you," she said once again. This time she hit her bandaged hand against my chest. But despite her swing, it held no weight. No strength. "I hate you." Once more.

Her words seemed to be spoken to the air, like attempting to convince herself of their truth.

"Riley, please. Just tell me what happened?" I asked, unsure of what else to do.

"It's him."

"Him, who?"

"Your dad. It's him." Her eyes flashed to my face, but she quickly turned them away.

"What about my father?" I did not understand.

"He did. And now he sits here. Happily enjoying thanksgiving dinner with his family. While what? I GET TO FUCKING STARE AT MINE THROUGH A FUCKING SCREEN!"

"Wh... do you mean?"

"I remember his face so well. Yet it seems I was nothing more than an insignificant blip in his perfect life. But that day stretches in my mind endlessly. Sometimes it's the only thing I can remember. Remembering is less painful. That much at least I have learned. Sometimes I wake up, wanting to walk out my door. Expecting to see my parents there. Then I remember again. It is always his face. I see his face every time I relive my parents being ripped away from me. He is the reason I cry myself to sleep sometimes. He is the reason I feel so empty. So lost." She looked around, unsure of what to do.... truly looking lost...

"Riley... I... didn't know..." Guilt built up in my chest. "I.."

"You fucking WHAT?" Riley burst angrily.

"Riley," — I tried to use a soothing tone — "I understand you are angry, but I didn't know..."

"Of course, you didn't. You got to see your parents whenever you wanted. You didn't have to tell a little boy, over and over again, that his parents didn't abandon him. That his parents didn't hate him. You didn't have to promise him, day after FUCKING DAY, that someday they would be back. Only to see that look of disappointment in his eyes."

"Riley..." I tried to hold her. I wanted to make her pain go away.

"Don't fucking touch me! This... this was a mistake," her fingers gestured between us as she paced back and forth in the bathroom.

"Don't say that..."

"I... I can't even look at you anymore..."

"You can't be blaming me for this?"

"I don't..." For the first time, the tears that had been pooling in her eyes began to spill. "But when I look at you right now...all I can feel is this emptiness." She took a deep breath and turned around. Using her undamaged hand, she washed the tears from her eyes.

"Riley... please let's talk about this." I tried once again.

"I'm gonna go tell my brothers we need to go home because work called and I have to go in tomorrow. Don't run after me and don't mention anything. There is no reason for the three of us to be miserable."

I grabbed onto her arm, a desperate attempt to stop her. "Noah," her voice came out like a plea, "it hurts to be next to you. Please, just let me go."

That snapped my hands open. Before I realized it. I was left standing in the bathroom alone.