"Careful, hon. Open the door wide for your sister, Sasha!"

"Mom, she's alright."

"Well, she still needs to be careful."

I ignore the urge to roll my eyes, trying not to piss my very worried Mom. She's holding Rachel very gingerly as my sister is making her way into the house. Truth be told, the doctor has declared that she doesn't need to stay in the hospital any longer. 

Mom is treating Rachel like a china doll and so far her attempt is only making the curious neighbors peeking through their curtains. It's broad daylight after all.

"Mom, I'm fine." Rachel finally speaks up and after she increases the speed of her steps, I can close the door behind us. Our other families are already inside, as my Aunt and Grandma busy preparing lunch. Uncle Terry is challenging Miles on a Mario Kart race.

Getting back to our routine somehow feels a bit stressful yet much, much relieving. The stress from the filed case and making Rachel comfortable to settle back into our home with her recovering wound is causing Mom to be a bit more panicky.

I wouldn't blame her.

Because the only person in the household who can still be quite relaxed is Miles. 

Linda was very concerned when I called her the other day to ask for more day-offs. But at least she understood.

"Sasha, lunch is ready. Come give it a try."

"Coming, gran."

The atmosphere in the room isn't exactly as carefree as I hoped it would be for Rachel's sake. There's a pregnant silence hanging in the room and occasionally, someone will burst the bubble with polite questions about the food.

Uncle Terry and Mom clearly are hiding something. But neither of us is willing to point it out- possibly for the sake of the blissfulness in the room. 

I sneak some glances their way a few times and it's only until I meet Mom's gaze which hides a silent plead I focus back on the lighthearted chatters that are caused by Miles' savoring the meal. Clearly Aunt Poppy and Gran are very pleased to see his genuine enjoyment.

"I'm finished," Rachel stands from her seat, bringing her plate to the kitchen to be washed. Aunt Poppy is quick to assist her, before escorting her upstairs.

There it is again - Mom's nervous glance to Uncle Terry.

Aunt Poppy's heels click against the stairs' tiles and finally, Uncle Terry is the one who breaks the tension in the room. I share a glance with Mom and she gives me a weak smile.

Something's wrong. 

Will someone tell me what's going on?

Uncle Terry somehow looks worriedly at me after our gaze meet, "Rachel doesn't want to press any charges against him."

"The police have found him, but she said she just wants to put this behind."

"What?" Aunt Poppy pipes in, finally voicing my disagreement, "We have to teach him a lesson. We can't just let them go that easily! He stabbed her!"

"I know. But if she doesn't want to, we can't force her to do it!"

"We can't just let him go!" the lump in my throat is finally gone and I feel anger rush in, replacing my shock, "Do you think he threatened her so she won't file charges?"

"Maybe, we don't know." 

Why won't she? They deserve it, they deserve to rot in jail.

Why is she reluctant to do it when she has every right to do so?

"Sasha, you can't force her to, hon." Mom gently rubs my tensed shoulders as she sits beside me on the couch. "Even if you think she should, if she doesn't want to, then we have to support her decision nonetheless."

"That's unfair. After all, he's done to her?"

"All she knew was she could trust him. She even loved the guy." Gran joins the conversation, "You need to give her some more time."

"She's right," Uncle Terry nods, "while the police look further into the case, we should give her time to think again."

"Poor girl. She's probably still shocked about the whole thing."

Similar murmurs soon follow and all I can do is sit in silence. They're right, but at the same time, I want to barge into her room and ask her to press charges. He has to taste his own medicine.

The feeling is clawing my chest and the thought of him laughing all about it after what happened is making me angrier. 

I get up, mumbling an 'I'm getting ice cream' to anyone who cares to listen along the way.

Every step feels like a hurried one as I'm trying not to go to the police station to give him a punch in his face. I enter the grocery store, marching towards the ice cream section. But upon finding the store's freezers are currently out of service, I march back towards the streets.

The McDonald's nearby seems like a good idea and so I walk all the way to the place just for the sake of some ice cream. My nerves are still getting the best of me and I swear I almost curse out a poor guy who accidentally bumps into me along the way.

I don't deal with anger very well.

Most of the time, I'll say or do something out of rage that I'll regret later on when I finally cool down. So I'm in a desperate search for the only dessert which I've known out of experience can melt this horrible feeling.

"Welcome to McDonald's, what can I get you this afternoon?"

I look up after roughly pulling out a five-dollar only to be startled with who's just greet me.

"Sasha?"

"Ah, hi."

There he is, standing in his red and yellow uniform is quite an amused Jo. The guy probably has seen me fighting against my tiny pocket to get the dollar out. Embarrassing.

"What can I get you?"

"One oreo mcflurry please."

The shock has made half of my anger to disappear for who knows how long.

Jo swiftly gets me my order and after handing me the mcflurry, his fingers dance on the cash register while I hold out my money.

"Is something wrong?" he glances at me and I sigh.

"It's about Rachel."

He hands me my change with an apologetic gaze, "Anything I can do to help?"

I raise the ice cream with whatever smile I can muster, "Hopefully this can chill me out."

And so I move out of the line after thanking him.

I don't know how to not chase my sister down until she changes her mind. I know I shouldn't. But is it enough to stop me?