"Maybe letting me decorate these was a bad idea," Amelia frowned.

She had just tried to use icing to draw a face onto one of her and Henry's gingerbread men and it was now looking something more like a possessed Teletubby.

"It won't work well while they're still hot!" he called from the living room.

Oops.

He came over to the kitchen island to investigate her handiwork before she could eat the incriminating evidence. When his eyes landed on the cookie, he bit down on his lip and she watched as he mustered every ounce of willpower he had not to lose it and burst into laughter.

Despite his best efforts, he couldn't stop himself from cracking a smile, but he quickly tried to regain his composure. "Your artistic skills never cease to amaze me."

"Oh, shut up," she muttered, but even she had to stifle a giggle when I glanced back down at it.

Henry picked up the abomination and popped it into his mouth in one bite. Judging by his happy expression while he chewed it, she assumed it turned out tasting better than it looked.

"Your baking skills are impeccable," he said innocently.

The only part she had done was use the cookie cutter. In classic Henry fashion, he had decided that the pre-made stuff from the grocery store wasn't sufficient enough and insisted on making the gingerbread dough—and the icing—from scratch.

She narrowed my eyes. "Show off."

"No, I'm serious," he teased. "The placement of the icing really made it for me. It was so innovative how you melted it all over the counter like that."

He was being dramatic—there was a singular drop of icing on the counter. He stepped closer to come and wrap his arms around her waist and she tried to look irritated, but she probably wasn't doing herself any favors in that department by draping her arms around the back of his neck and letting him kiss her forehead.

"You're annoying." She wasn't sure she sounded very convincing.

"Mhmm. I can tell by how annoyed you're acting with me."

She playfully shoved him away and retreated to the living room, where they had been working on decorating their Christmas tree. After their morning excursion to acquire it, they figured they might as well make a whole day of prettying it up. They'd perused through what ornaments Henry had, headed over to Amelia's place so she could grab some of her favorites from her own stash, and then popped over to the grocery store because he'd gotten the munchies and wanted a festive snack for their festive day. While he was wandering around grabbing his ingredients, she'd poked around the holiday section to get some lights and tinsel and check if there were any ornaments there that she absolutely had to have. She might have gone a little bit overboard, but Christmas only rolled around once a year, so she didn't regret it even once she got her total at the cash register.

Now, the tree was coming together nicely. They had almost gotten through Henry's box of ornaments when the oven had started beeping and she'd run over to pull the gingerbread out. And thus the cookie demon was born—it was for the best that she passed off the icing duties to Henry before any more atrocities could be spawned.

Amelia reached into the box of ornaments and carefully picked up a small silver bell, which she hung near the top of the tree. Over at the kitchen counter, Henry had glanced down at his phone.

"Liam wants to know if we want to grab drinks later."

They all probably needed it after the shitshow that had been last night. A chance to decompress and just be themselves and possibly wallow in the angst of being twenty-somethings didn't seem like such a bad idea.

She nodded. "That sounds fun."

As Henry started typing out a response, Amelia reached into the grocery bag of ornaments she'd just bought and held the first one up for him to see. It was a ceramic orange cat, very reminiscent of the Caruso's family cat Beary, wearing a Santa hat.

He grinned. "My mom's gonna think that's adorable."

"It is adorable."

She gave Beary the place of honor he deserved near the top of the tree. Her other favorites were the letters A and H carved out of wood, plus a little Mickey ears one she'd gotten to commemorate their first date because she apparently really was that much of a self-indulgently sentimental person.

Henry returned to her as soon as he was done drawing faces on their gingerbread men, sliding his arms around her from behind.

"It looks good," he murmured to her as they admired their handiwork.

"I saved my favorite for last, wanna see?"

"Of course I want to see it, but just out of curiosity, what would you do if I said no?"

Silently, Amelia lightly jerked her elbow back into his ribs. "Make you look at it anyway. It's special—I think it was my grandmother's before it was my mom's."

He made a thoughtful noise. "Are you sure you don't want to keep it at your place?"

"I'm sure," she promised. "There's a perfect spot for it right there at the front."

She crouched down to the final box of ornaments and delicately removed the bubble wrap that protected the one she was looking for. Roughly the size of her palm, it was a North Star made of glass with gold leaf coating each of its tips. Amelia had always adored how it twinkled against the strands of fairy lights, especially after dark when there was no natural light interfering with it.

Rising back to her feet, she hung it carefully at the front of the tree and it looked just as perfect as she'd imagined. It felt right to leave it here at Henry's, on this tree that she was pouring much more love into than she surely would with the cheap plastic one back at her apartment.

She let him finish it off with a topper—"I'm too short," she said—and they stepped back a few feet to take it all in. Somehow, their crazy assortment of random ornaments had come together into something cohesive, something that she was quite fond of.

Amelia was aware that she was being way too soppy over a literal tree, and yet getting to create something together that would stay here in his home made it feel more like it could be her home, too. Maybe that was just the artist in her thinking, or maybe it was the fact that there'd been a gap in her heart for a while where that sense of belonging somewhere had been missing.

It'd started dissolving all the way back when her parents separated and she was suddenly going to two houses, feeling more like a visitor in both than a resident in either. Her belongings had been scattered all over the place during college when she was bouncing between the dorms and her parents' places, then she'd found herself a couple of roommates and gotten an apartment near the beach in Florida that felt more like a temporary getaway than something permanent. Fast forward a year and she was back here, thinking she'd wanted her own space but then stepping into her empty apartment and realizing that she felt like a stranger in her hometown. That desperation led her to try to make a home with Colton, which had blown up catastrophically.

She wasn't going to make that mistake of moving through a relationship at lightning speed ever again. But Henry wasn't like Colton. Henry wasn't a walkthrough of a creepy old house that he insisted they should have a future in, Henry wasn't pressuring her to prove her loyalty by moving in with him right now. No, Henry was an open door only when she needed it and never when she didn't. Henry was the person she could laugh and cry with on Facetime at one in the morning, the person she could wake up next to but also the person who was willing to sleep on her lumpy couch if that made her feel more secure. Henry was safe and Henry was warm and Henry wanted her to have a life with him but wanted her to have her own life, too.

"You like it okay?" he asked her, still looking on at their tree.

"I love it." Amelia gave him a swift kiss. "And I love you. And I also love gingerbread cookies."

"I love you, too."

He leaned back in for another kiss, and she could feel the both of them trying not to grin. And she wouldn't have had it any other way.

She never wanted them to stop making each other this happy.

Growing up, she had never imagined herself becoming the type of girl who went to bars.

That wasn't to say that she didn't want to be, but all of the media she'd grown up consuming always seemed to send the same message that only a particular type of woman would ever walk into a bar—a sultry, mysterious type who made six figures yet was entirely dissatisfied with her life. She'd get hit on by a foreign, drop-dead gorgeous man with an ominous past who at least once later in the narrative would be described as "exotic." Her life would change in that bar.

That, or it was the polar opposite—bars were where the shady people hung out, the sleazy men who liked to prey on vulnerable, incapacitated women. It wasn't until Amelia was actually old enough to drink that she realized that aside from the age restriction, bars were no different than restaurants or coffee shops in terms of what types of people could frequent them, which was to say everyone.

Liam had chosen where they were going to meet, but she trusted that it would be nice. She didn't mind splurging on herself every once in a while if he had picked something expensive. She'd gotten a lot of free food out of other people this week for the holiday, so she told herself that eating out was just rebalancing the scales of her bank account.

Once she and Henry got there, she decided that it only looked slightly lavish, and after glancing at the menu she found that it was barely more pricey than something she would have picked for, say, herself and Natasha. The sort of place she would have chosen for a special occasion or when she was simply in the mood to dish out a little more money for a more upscale experience that had better food and definitely wouldn't involve strange men hitting on her. Though regardless of where they'd gone tonight, she doubted she'd be having that latter problem having come with two guys. Men were bizarrely territorial about their space even though plenty of them wouldn't bat an eye at invading a woman's.

Without fail, every bar she'd ever been to, regardless of how nice or shady it was, had at least three screens playing ESPN, so she wasn't surprised to see them here. It didn't help that their football team was playing tonight, either; almost all pairs of eyes in the room were glued to the game.

But not hers—the first thing she noticed when they sat down was that Liam had managed to acquire a basket of rolls while he was waiting for them. He must have arrived a good bit earlier than he'd asked Henry and Amelia to show up because she'd noticed while they were walking in that there were a few groups of people waiting for a table. Had theirs not been nestled in a corner near an air vent, she might have started to feel claustrophobic. The aisles between the tables were constantly moving with hot bodies, servers and customers and a few people who appeared to just be random stragglers from outside wanting to watch the game without opening a tab.

Her phone vibrated in her pocket. She'd gotten a text from Nat in the afternoon that she and Asher had decided to go ice-skating tonight, so she wasn't surprised to receive a mirror selfie of the outfit she'd picked, jeans and a sparkly top.

Do you think this is ok? Can't really wear a dress to go skating lol

Super cute! Just don't forget a jacket

Okay mom 👍

Natasha is typing...

Unless...is it bad to forget it on purpose and see if he'll give me his

Yes.

I don't think you need to make your boyfriend freeze to death to get him to flirt with you.

You can be more creative than that 😉

👀

Amelia shoved her phone back into her pocket as a peppy waitress arrived to take their orders. Almost all of the food options sounded good to her, but she ended up just ordering some chicken tenders—both because they were hard to do wrong and she'd been too busy texting to read the menu thoroughly. For her drink, she picked a cocktail while the boys were predictable and went with beers. Yuck.

Liam attempted to explain to her what was going on in the football game as soon as he realized that she was completely clueless, and she let him do it despite knowing that it'd be to no avail. Her dad had already tried a million times over the years to teach her the rules. They never stuck; it was too much for her attention span to keep up with.

A few people in the bar booed at something that one of the players did. What that was, she couldn't have said.

"I don't get why people pay hundreds of dollars to go to these games when you could just watch them on TV," she admitted.

Their football stadium was literally a fifteen-minute walk from where they sat now, watching it for free in much higher definition than they would have been able to see if they were out there sitting in the stands instead. She'd barely been over to this side of town since that weekend after she broke up with Colton, when she and Henry had gone for a stroll along the bridge and then rushed over to Liam's when he told them that he'd found out something about Lily's prescriptions.

So much had changed in the two months that had passed since then, yet that was the first and last substantial lead they'd gotten. Amelia wouldn't say it out loud, but the letters from her had told them practically nothing.

It wasn't the most cheery thought, but on the bright side, neither of the boys seemed to be dwelling too much on the prior night's arguments. She and Liam had eventually joined everyone else inside after sitting by the hot tub for a little while longer, the family had apologized for arguing in front of them, and they'd all consumed an exorbitant amount of pumpkin pie to make themselves feel better. Henry was in a good mood today—maybe too good of a mood if it required tickling her until she couldn't breathe.

Her phone buzzed again, so she quickly checked what the latest status of Nat's date was.

The rink is really cute! And they have mistletoe

Have fun!

Just maybe don't make out in front of small children

Nat just replied with a laughing emoji, so there was no telling if she was going to heed the advice or not.

Their waitress circled back around to deliver the drinks. Amelia's looked delicious. As for Henry and Liam's...she didn't know why people enjoyed drinking something that probably tasted like gasoline, but if it made them happy, she supposed she was happy for them, too.

She took a sip of the colorful concoction that had just been handed to her and was pleased—it was mostly fruity-tasting but still strong enough to give her that fuzzy feeling in the pit of her stomach. She liked wine too, but she was a bigger fan of alcoholic drinks that didn't actually taste like alcohol.

"Any good?" Henry asked, and she nodded.

She felt like she was living her best life as the three of them chatted and she enjoyed her drink and inhaled the basket of rolls. She couldn't just let them go to waste, after all. Henry and Liam cared more about talking and football than eating any of them, so she had to fulfill her role—nay, her duty—to consume all of them. No roll left behind.

Henry must have caught her making a face that she didn't even know she was making as he took a sip of his beer; she saw him smirk slightly and he held his glass out. "Wanna try?"

Well, no. But yes. She was completely confident that she was going to hate it but was curious nonetheless. Deciding that she might as well live a little, she took the glass. It was cold and slick in her grip as she lifted it to her mouth. Don't spill it all over yourself, you idiot.

Amelia took the daintiest little sip that she could. Blech. It tasted like pure sadness and burned on the way down. It wasn't quite as bad as she had anticipated, but she wouldn't have ever consumed it again voluntarily.

Henry and Liam both grinned a little bit at her grimace as she carefully slid the cup back across the table to Henry, perfectly content to stick with her girly drink. She gulped down some water and took another sip of the cocktail to wash the beer taste out of her mouth.

It didn't take much longer for the waitress to come back with their food and Amelia's eyes widened when she saw her massive plate of chicken tenders looking even more delicious than she'd hoped for. The flavor lived up to the presentation—she wasn't disappointed when she took her first bites. The chicken was satisfyingly crunchy on the outside and the inside wasn't dry. The fries were crispy and salty.

And her bliss lasted for approximately one whole minute. Just as she was about to make a comment about how good her food was, Henry's face suddenly blanched. He was looking at something across the room, behind her.

"You okay?" she asked.

"Do you mind if we step outside for a second?" he asked her calmly, very calmly. "I wanted to ask you something."

He sounded a little too calm—she knew that tone. He was trying to mask the fact that something was bothering him.

But Liam didn't seem to understand, either. He glanced back and forth between her and Henry like he was trying to discern the exact same thing as she was: What was happening?

Amelia swallowed. "What...?"

She realized that Henry had shifted to the edge of his seat as if he was bracing to bolt out of there as soon as she gave him the go-ahead. And thus Curiosity killed the cat. Instead of finishing her question, Amelia turned around in her chair to see for herself what was wrong—and immediately wished she hadn't.

Was her luck really this bad? Over by the bar, in all of his blonde-haired, brown-eyed, leather jacket glory, was none other than Colton.

Her first bites of dinner suddenly wanted to make a reappearance. Even from this distance, there was something about him that looked harsher than the Colton she'd thought she once knew. Colder, more intense. Maybe her brain was playing tricks on her, or maybe his true colors were finally starting to seep to the outside.

She certainly didn't plan on getting close enough to find out. Even if she'd wanted to move, she probably couldn't. The nauseating feeling was overpowering her, a ringing noise sounding off in her ears.

Why did he get to ruin everything for her?

Abruptly, she realized that Henry had reached for her hand and was trying to talk to her. "We can get out of here, okay?"

"No," she blurted.

His eyebrows scrunched in confusion. "What?"

"I'm having a great time watching this football game I don't even care about and hanging out with you guys and I really want to finish this drink and these damn chicken tenders so I am going to sit here and enjoy them and ignore him and he is going to keep himself over there or else you guys are going to give him hell for me, okay?" she huffed out in what felt like one breath.

Both boys were staring at her with wide eyes. Eventually, Henry said, "You know you don't have to torture yourself to make a point, right? You don't have anything to prove to us."

"What if I need to prove it to myself? I'm sick of being scared all the time. And I'm not going to do anything crazy—I just want to finish my dinner."

Liam seemed to have pieced two and two together over the course of the debate; he glanced over at Henry. "You heard her. I guess we're staying put."

Reluctantly, Henry let go of her hand and shifted all the way back into his seat.

"We're staying," she echoed, though she probably needed the convincing even more than either of them did. "And one of you is going to keep explaining this dumb sport to me while I finish my food. Henry, do you know if you still have a hoodie in your car?"

He nodded.

"Will you grab it for me?"

Even though it wasn't highly likely that Colton would recognize the back of her head if he happened to glance in this direction, she wasn't dying to take her chances if there was an easy enough solution. Henry agreed, but he exchanged a silent look with Liam as he got up, as if to say, Don't leave her alone.

"I'll be back in a minute," was what he actually said out loud.

And then he was gone, and it was just Amelia and Liam at the table, and she was utterly relieved now that she had already told him as much about Colton as she had so that she didn't have to do it right now. His expression softened now that they were alone.

"So, that's him?" he asked quietly.

"The one and only."

"And you're sure you want to stay?"

There was something sad in the slight downward slant of his mouth, in his eyes, but it didn't feel entirely directed at her. She couldn't help but wonder if Henry even knew anything that Liam had told her about his awful ex-girlfriend.

"I'm sure."

Henry reappeared, now with a black hoodie slung over his arm. Perfect. Amelia pulled it over her head as soon as it was passed to her, taking comfort in the soft, downy lining on the inside. It was almost like being bundled up in the safety net of a blanket.

Out of an abundance of caution, he and Liam also switched spots—Liam's original seat was more hidden, nestled in the corner under the shadow of a painting hanging on the wall, whereas Henry's was extremely visible. Since he and Colton had interacted once, no one wanted him looking this way and recognizing Henry any more than they'd want him to see Amelia.

Once they were in their new configuration, she finally felt secure enough to scarf down the rest of her food. It wasn't as good as it would have been if she ate it slowly and took her time to savor it, no, but it was still a hell of a lot better than it'd be if she took it to go and reheated it later.

"Is he still there?" she eventually mumbled in spite of knowing that they would have alerted her if he'd moved as much as a foot in any direction.

"Yeah, it..." Liam's lips dipped further into a frown. "Looks like he has someone with him?"

It was a good thing that cats had nine lives because even though she should have known better, Amelia's curiosity got the best of her yet again. She quickly turned her chin over her shoulder just long enough to see that there was another figure with him, probably a woman based on her height. But practically everything beyond that was concealed—she was turned away from them and wearing a jacket so oversized that it practically engulfed her. Its hood covered her hair.

It shouldn't have surprised Amelia that he'd picked up another woman, but actually seeing him in the flesh with someone else was a unique degree of jarring that she hadn't been prepared for. Oh, God. Was the same thing going to happen to that poor woman that had happened to her? Or worse? Had horrible things already happened?

It was only then that she felt even the slightest impulse to confront him, to run over there and tell that girl to get the hell away from that monster of a man. Doing nothing to warn her about who she was associating with felt horribly wrong. Women were supposed to have each other's backs, to help each other out of these sorts of sticky situations and save themselves because the men certainly weren't going to do it.

But what was Amelia to do? Hope the stranger eventually slipped off to the ladies' room and go find her there?

It wasn't the worst idea in the world, but she didn't feel brave enough to let herself out of Henry or Liam's sight. Maybe she could muster up the will to do it.

Yet before she could voice any of these thoughts aloud, the room was suddenly in an uproar—apparently, their local team had just won the football game. People were cheering, clapping, lifting hands and drinks into the air.

And when all of the commotion finally died down, Colton and the woman had disappeared.

"Shit," Amelia exhaled, her eyes welling up with unexpected tears. "Shit. We could have helped her."

"We don't know if she was in any danger," Henry tried to console her, but both of the boys' faces were drawn with sympathy as she turned back towards them. "She could be another officer."

"I guess he did hang out with his coworkers a lot," Amelia muttered, cheeks flushing as she dabbed at her eyes with a crumpled napkin. "I just always assumed they were all men."

He nodded his understanding. "Do you want to get out of here? Two of us can always wait outside while someone hangs back to pay."

"I think I need another round of drinks."

Amelia ended up drowning her sorrows in the alcohol more than she meant to, but Henry and Liam only let her get a little bit tipsy before agreeing that they needed to call it quits for the night.

In the parking lot, Liam gave her a long hug that she really, really needed. She mumbled a tiny thanks in his ear before they went their separate ways.

She was a massive mess on the way back to Henry's place. Surprisingly, no tears were shed, but she kept sniffling and seemed unable to stop apologizing for various things, such as the fact that bad luck seemed to be following her everywhere she went and the fact that she kept complaining about it and the fact that she couldn't offer him any more reprieve from all things Lily. He held her hand while he drove and soothed her and promised her that it was all going to be okay, but he seemed to know that she just needed to get it out of her system and would probably feel better once she'd slept.

Her brain still felt slightly foggy by the time they arrived back at his place. She clung to his arm as they walked to the door, as if she was scared that something was going to separate them if she didn't hold on. As if Colton was going to jump out of the bushes and snatch her or something.

"Oh," she murmured once she saw their Christmas tree again, having completely forgotten about it over the course of the evening. "Wow."

With that, she sunk onto the couch.

Henry knelt down on the floor next to her. "Do you want to stay with me tonight?"

She nodded.

"Let's go get ready for bed, okay?"

"Yeah," she mumbled. "You're right."

She allowed him to help her up from the sofa, her head spinning a little bit as she stood again.

Upstairs, he gave her a tee shirt and a pair of his boxers to wear to sleep, then went to the bathroom to brush his teeth while she changed. As she pulled her shirt over her head and shimmied out of her jeans, she thought about what it had felt like to do this every morning and every night and see bruises in the shape of Colton's fingertips when she did. How different it was now, to see her skin unmarked.

Even in the midst of all the painful feelings she still felt surrounding him, she had been able to move on in many ways. Tonight, even if it hadn't gone how she would have liked it to, was proof of that. She was proud of herself for pushing through the nerves and claiming her right to stay there with her friends instead of allowing him to keep controlling her. It wouldn't have been wise if she hadn't had a way to do it safely, of course, but it brought her peace to know that for every shitty man out there like Colton, there were two good ones like Henry and Liam.

She closed her eyes when she felt Henry kiss her shoulder—she hadn't even heard him come over to her.

"Do I look cute in your clothes?" she mumbled.

"Mhmm," he murmured his agreement into the crook of her neck. "But I know you're exhausted. Let's get some sleep."

Once she'd swiftly scampered off to go swish with some of his mouthwash, she returned to the bedroom and crawled into the unoccupied side of the bed. He offered to keep a lamp on if that would put her mind at ease; she admitted that yeah, it might help.

"I love you," she told him.

"I love you, too." A quick kiss on her mouth. "So much."

Quietly, and seemingly out of nowhere, she asked, "Did you take a picture of that last letter she sent?"

Henry's eyebrows furrowed. "You've had enough to think about for one night."

"I know," Amelia told him. Even she wasn't completely sure where the sudden impulse to see it at this hour had come from. "I just—you had to read it. I want to be here for you as much as you're here for me."

He looked like he wanted to protest a little bit, but they must have officially hit the point where they'd been dating long enough to tell when the other person wasn't going to budge. Warily, he unlocked his phone and passed it to her.

Amelia zoomed in on the picture.

Dear Henry and Liam,

I know I'm not there with you for Thanksgiving and I get that it must be hard. Just know that I'm alright, that I'm there with you in spirit.

You don't need to worry yourself with worrying about me.

Love,

Lily

Amelia stared at it. Then reread it, then stared again. Something wasn't clicking with her right; something felt...familiar.

She was fairly certain it was that last line. You don't need to worry yourself with worrying about me. She knew that phrase—she knew she'd heard it somewhere before., but where?

In her chest, her heart throttled to a standstill. Could it...? No—it couldn't be. She read it again.

The phone fell out of her hand and onto the bedspread.

"Henry," she said in a small voice, feeling like she might throw up right there on the blanket. "...I don't think Colton was trying to withhold help for her because of me."

"What?" he frowned. "What do you mean?"

"This is what I mean!" She grabbed the phone and held it up to him.

Why hadn't she read the damn note the second they got it?

They'd known there was someone with her this whole time. They'd known they'd known they'd known—

"Read the last line to me," she demanded.

Henry was giving her a bizarre look, but he did as he was told. "You don't need to worry yourself with worrying about me."

"Has she ever said that to you before?!"

"I—no, I don't think so," he told her, baffled. "What is this about?"

Amelia clambered to her feet, pacing the length of the bed like a nervous cat.

"That's not a super normal thing to say, right?" she questioned. "But Colton used to say it to me almost every day, and just because the handwriting is Lily's doesn't mean the words are hers. Haven't you been saying this whole time that it doesn't sound like her at all? I think he slipped up with this note. He doesn't know I'm reading them."

"You think–"

Henry's words died on his lips as he looked at her in wide-eyed dread, but there was a vengeance in Amelia that was roaring back to life.

This was all going to end tonight.

"I think he's the one who has her."