Weekends were the hardest. They were days when Ava had nothing more to do than walk the narrow halls of the hotel, heat tv dinners in the microwave situated above the cheap stove in the kitchen, and lie in bed for endless hours; never getting any actual rest. Those days, the miserably lonesome ones, were the hardest.

Not to say that weekdays were much better. But at least then she had a reason to paint her face with makeup, throw on an expensive dress that coordinated perfectly with an equally exorbitant purse and pair of heels while, not to mention, showing off just enough cleavage to attract wandering eyes.

Head held high, she'd sashay into work as if she were not merely on a runway but owning it; trying her best to convince onlookers that her existence wasn't as empty as it actually was. The goal was to prove to anyone willing to give her the time of day that her life still had meaning. Purpose. And if Paloma happened to be one of those people then, so be it.

But, it was Saturday, and Saturdays didn't call for much presentation-wise. It'd been so long that Ava had nearly forgotten what copious amounts of sugar did to her. Aside from melting away years worth of hard-earned muscle buildup, it always managed to make her groggy and slow.

It was as though her body skipped right over the energetic part and puked her out on the other side. Still, she shoveled bargain brand, sugary cereal into her mouth by the spoonfuls as she mindlessly surfed the few channels the hotel provided.

The knock on her door must've not registered with her for a while because she didn't bother answering until the visitor's knock sounded more like she had the FBI on her doorstep, locked and loaded, ready for a drug bust.

Juggling her cereal in one hand, she pulled her robe together with another, not bothering with it anymore when it fell back open half a second later. Ava took a long look through the peephole. When she finally opened the door, her piss-poor smile transitioned into one fit for a Queen.

"And here I thought technology failed me. You are home. Well, as home as you can get in a dump like this."

"It's not a dump."

Ava frowned at her own defensive response. It was no castle but it was a warm bed and a roof over her head that was void of a binding lease—all of which was more than she could ask for these days.  She grumbled unobtrusively when Quinn slipped past her, not bothering to object.

"How'd you find me?" the mahogany-haired woman asked softly.

Quinn's eyes moseyed across the few features she could make out in what little light the drawn curtains left the room with. Once Ava shut the door, Quinn turned to give her a once-over.

The room was dim, yes, but she could see Ava as clear as day. Her faded, teal robe was faintly stained with milk that was likely souring by the second. The spaghetti-strap t-shirt beneath it suffered the same fate. But, her high-waisted, loose-fitting shorts appeared to have dodged the dairy bullet.

"Well, once you stopped answering my texts a week ago," Quinn emphasized this with a pregnant pause, "I decided to do some detective work and hunt you down. Given that your location is still being shared with me, I figured, deep down, you didn't want me to leave you alone."

In all honesty, Ava had forgotten about technology's mythical wonders. Then again, she figured it might've been for the best considering she wasn't all that sure she would've been able to stop herself from constantly checking up on the brunette's whereabouts in a purely nosey manner; granted that Paloma hadn't been clever enough to hide such private details like she should, of course.

All in all, Ava would've been lying if she said finally having company, especially the girl's, left her ungrateful. Quinn shrugged off her jacket and plopped down on the unmade bed, granting Ava the courtesy of minding her laptop and sprawled out clothing.

"Would've come sooner but I've been busy, much like yourself, apparently, considering, again, you haven't...been answering...my texts. A part of me was afraid I'd find just your body here instead of you."

Ava leaned into the kitchen where she set her bowl of soggy cereal down on the counter, then assumed a ill-postured stance across from the teenager. "Quinn, it's incredibly sweet that you worry about me and still care enough to check in, but—"

"Of course I do. You're family."

"But," Ava drawled, reminding herself to shut down the benevolent smile that threatened to forge its way onto her lips, "I'm not so sure this is the right way to do things."

"There's a 'right way' here?" Growing tired of the background noise the television emitted, Quinn sighed and clicked it off, tossing the remote on the bed and surrendering Ava her full attention shortly after. "Then what is it?"

Ava had been asking herself that question for God knows how long and she still couldn't arouse an answer. She was going to extend Quinn the only response she could muster, even if it was one that neither of them could bear to hear, but, before she could sneak out a word, Quinn asked, "When's the last time you showered?"

That earned her a hearty scoff and an accompanying grin from Ava. "This morning, asshole."

"Wish it smelled like it."

Teasing scowl on display, the woman teetered softly to herself. "Did you come all this way just to insult my hygiene?"

Quinn's giggle matched Paloma's to a T, taking Ava aback almost immediately. But, she was able to hide it. Mostly.

"I wanted to surprise you. And, from the looks of it, mission accomplished. Could one maybe even say you're a little bit...glad to see me?" Quinn only left her spot on the bed when Ava's arms fell open, welcoming the teenager to the spine-breaking hug that awaited her. Into the cotton fabric of Ava's robe, she stifled out a, "I'll take that as a 'yes'."

"I've missed you, kid," Ava sursurated through the thick, red forest of Quinn's mane. "So much."

Quinn's simper was sad but sweet when they finally put the embrace to rest. "Ditto."

Ava motioned for her to take a seat, then she did the same. "How'd you get here?"

"In your absence, I outgrew the likes of public transportation and, instead, acquired my very own. As you can see, I'm on the road to adulthood." She did away with her smile and shook her head. "We can talk about that later. Right now, I'm much more interested in discussing how you got here."

Ava tucked a particularly stubborn lock of hair behind the tip of a reddened ear and shrugged her shoulders one good time. Instead of meeting Quinn's gaze like the girl's eyes demanded, she burned a hole into the carpet.

"I fucked up." A bitter laugh followed. "And sometimes, when you do that...there's nothing that can be done to fix it. So, you end up here. You waste away in a three-star hotel and thank God that things aren't any worse than they are because you know that they very well could be. You know without a shadow of a doubt that, as shitty as things are, you deserve so much worse."

On the way over, Quinn had prepared to meet Ava's BS with a 'whip yourself into shape' attitude but that response, a sincere response, was one she hadn't anticipated.

Ava looked over to Quinn whose shoulder was grazing her own. "Your sister know you're here?"

"Does it matter?"

Ava was quick to answer. "Yes. Very much so, actually."

"Even after everything, you're still catering to my sister, I see. That's unfortunate. I hoped that you kicked that habit seeing that you have no intention of fixing things."

Ava evaded that statement like her life depended on it. "Can I ask you something?"

Her voice was as wary and delicate as it had been a few months back when she'd soothed the girl down from ledge her panic attacks forced her out on. Quinn found it fitting to match the tender tone.

"Only if I get to ask you something in return."

The woman nodded her agreement then proceeded with her query. "Why do you want anything to do with me? I mean...I lied. Repeatedly. Even to you. Plus, I was being a grade-A asshole to you for God knows how long. And, in Paloma's eyes, I'm a literal piece of shit."

A smirk laid claim on Quinn's lips. "Who says you're not in mine?"

Ava threw Quinn a half-hearted glare.

"It's not often that I'm wrong, but on the rare occasions that I am, I own up to it," Quinn affirmed. "Your bitchyness wasn't exactly one-sided. Plus, we already did the whole apology thing before you left so let's not beat a dead horse. If I was mad at you, do you think I'd be here right now?"

Ava's timid smile returned just as Quinn's faded. "But...you did. Lie, I mean," reiterated Quinn. "To my face, and you even did everything you promised me you wouldn't. Plus, you really hurt Paloma and, in turn, me. And, had you been anyone else on this planet, I'd hate your guts."

Ava grimaced through her fleeting chuckle. "I'm really hoping there's a silver lining coming soon."

"My point is, I didn't write you off because you're not just anyone. You're the only person I've ever met that actually has real power over Paloma and, more often than not, you use that power for good. My sister can be a bit of a firecracker at times and you...mellow her out. Yin and yang and all that," she said matter-of-factly. "What happened is screwing with Paloma so badly because, even though she's the one who told you to leave, I'm pretty sure, to her, you're the one that got away."

Ava's chin kissed her chest when she dropped her head. "Yeah," she murmured.

"But, despite what Paloma thinks, my being here in no way means I'm choosing you over her. As a matter of fact, I'm doing this for her. I mean, she's my sister. I couldn't care more about her or Oliver even if I wanted to. It's an unspoken sibling thing, you know? I just want everything to go back to how they were before."

"So do I, but I'm not so sure wanting it is gonna be enough to fix it or if fixing it is even possible at this point."

"So, what, adopting a life of misery is your brilliant solution? You've convinced yourself that it'd magically make my sister happy? And me? It hasn't. It won't." Quinn turned to face Ava head-on but Ava merely fidgetted around on the edge of the mattress, refusing to even look in Quinn's direction. "You're not doing anyone any favors, especially not yourself."

"Paloma made it loud and clear on multiple occasions that the best thing I could do was stay away. So, that's what I'm doing. Look, I haven't given up on her, or us, I never would. I'm just respecting her wishes while keeping an eye on her as much I can. But, I can only do so from a distance. Do you think I like being here, away from you guys? I hate it more than anyone could ever imagine, but I can't afford to do anything else to piss Paloma off."

"You know what pisses me off? You staying here instead of being at home, with us, where you belong."

Once the vain in Ava's neck throbbed violently, she mimicked Quinn by facing her directly. "You say that like it's my choice. As much as I wish it were, it's nowhere near that simple, Quinn."

"You're family which means you don't walk away just because someone tells you to, even if the person telling you is also family. So, yeah, it is that simple. God, when did everyone get so weak? It's been months and no one's trying," whined Quinn. "Paloma refuses to be the bigger person because she's still too upset, so you have to be. And rightfully so. You're the one that messed everything up. So, grow a pair and...come back. The house feels empty without you in it."

That drove an Eiffel Tower-sized stake through Ava's heart. "I hate this arrangement just as much as you do—more, even." She dared to reach out and stroke her hair—a gesture that Quinn met with docility. "But, as much as I love and miss you guys, I don't get to just come back."

Quinn leaned away, dodging Ava's manicured nails before they could comb their way through her roots once more.

"I don't know if you've at all over the course of these last few months managed to pull your own head of your ass for five minutes, but, in the midst of doing whatever the hell messed up stuff you were doing, you absolutely shattered my sister. Yet you think it's okay to leave and pretend like you're not the whole reason things are so shitty for everyone?"

That was humbling, to put it lightly. But that didn't mean it didn't get under Ava's skin. "I know that," she sibilated through clenched teeth. "I own it. I fucked up on an astronomical level. But, that was never supposed to happen. That's not what I meant to do."

"No one ever does, do they? Do you think I'd be here...begging if it wasn't my last resort? No matter how messed up  Paloma seems when she comes into work every week, I can assure you, she's a million times worse at home. She can't pick herself back up because I honestly don't think she knows how."

Ava pressed her lips together in a thin line. "And what is it that you suggest I do?"

"Anything! She's not just some random woman you scooped up at a bar, Ava, this is Paloma we're talking about. She needs you. I need you. You always said I could come to you whenever for whatever, well, I'm here. So, what are you gonna do about this?"

"If it were up to me, I'd help, kid. You know that. But, Paloma hardly looks in my direction. These days, we work together all the time but she's not exactly wearing her heart on her sleeve. Even talking about anything not work-related is off the table, according to her. She makes the rules. I can't help if she won't let me. If she would just—"

A fury-driven heat washed over Quinn, painting her fair skin blood-red. "Since when do you wait around for permission? What more do you need? The very people that you—not six months ago—called your family are drowning and you act like you don't even care. I'm not saying Paloma's gonna like it but you've never had a problem stepping on her toes before when it meant talking some sense into her. Why's now any different?"

"It just is, okay?" Even Ava knew the response was insufficient, but she didn't try to clean it up; mostly because she didn't know how. Instead, she settled for a mere, "I absolutely hate the way things are. I hate not being there."

"Just not enough to do anything about it." Quinn bared her teeth. "You opened the gates of Hell, unleashed every one of Paloma's demons, then vanished, Ava. You didn't even stick around to witness what it did to her, what it's doing now, but, unlike you, I don't have a choice. And, you know, if that's who you are, if that's the kind of thing you deem 'okay', then, I'm big enough to admit when I'm wrong."

Ava's eyes had grown damper by the second, and that had still been the case when Quinn sprang from the bed in an abrupt fit then turned to look her dead in the eyes.

"You're not good enough for my sister." Nose flared, Quinn forced her arms through the sleeves of her jacket then flipped her hair over the collar. "I'm starting to think you never were."

That made Ava flinch like no other. Quinn's glower was far less forgiving than a turbulent, Antarctic blizzard in the dead of winter which was fitting considering the expression accompanied her words perfectly.

By the time Quinn made it to the door, Ava had blinked away most of her tears before they could make a beeline for her rosy cheeks. To her surprise, though it felt as though an eon had passed, the girl still hadn't made a move for the exit.

Seeing her chance, Ava cleared her throat and mustered out, "What were you gonna ask me? I asked my question, which means you still get to ask yours. What was it?"

Loosening her grip on the door handle, Quinn debated whether or not she even wanted to bother awarding the conversation any more of her time and energy. But, she could practically feel Ava burning a hole into the back of her head. Reluctantly, Quinn faced the woman.

"Ross has seen it, too. I didn't tell him, I didn't have to, but he knows. He wants me to stay with him for a while until..." Quinn couldn't conjure up a foreseen end date. "Well, until. He's afraid Paloma's gonna drag me down with her and, for a while, I thought he was being dramatic but, these days, I think she might too. I was gonna ask for your advice. An alternative—any alternative—but I think I already know the answer. Guess I'm not much better than you."

Ava didn't even consider offering a rebuttal. Instead, she dug her nails into the thick fabric of her robe, pulling it closer as she drew further into herself. She didn't bother stopping the teenager from breaching the exit, despite Quinn leaving a trail of unending emptiness in her wake.

It'd been so long since Paloma addressed her directly, so long since her voice was benign and vacant of contempt, that Quinn was startled when the woman spoke.

"Hey, I was just about to—" Paloma simpered curiously and examined her sister, a hint of amusement in her eyes. "Whatcha doin'?"

There was such genuine curiosity and a light airiness to her tone that had Quinn not been looking at a suitcase that was nearly bursting at the seams, she would've thought that things were back to normal between them and Ava and all was right with the world.

Quinn put the finishing touches on her work by removing the plum-colored bear, tattered hat and all, from its throne on her bookshelf and working it into the suitcase the best she could without damaging the aged stuffed animal. She struggled to get the bag to close but after a terse tug-of-war with the zipper, she won the battle.

Brows stitched together in perplexity, Paloma witnessed this patiently. Waiting for her sister to offer a response, she leaned against the door frame of Quinn's bedroom which had suddenly seemed far barer than she'd last seen it.

The teenager hoisted the suitcase off of her bed, letting it hit the laminated floor with a soft thud. She stood tall and finally relinquished her attention to the brunette. "I'm leaving."

Paloma's lips arced into a comical grin. "Mind if I ask where you're headed?"

Luggage at her heels, Quinn squeezed past Paloma and sprang down the staircase.

"I left a grocery list on the fridge of all the stuff the house is out of so you'll have it whenever you get around to heading to the store." Quinn peeked over her should at the woman who was following so closely behind, it was a wonder they hadn't collided. "Which needs to be soon, by the way. But, I cooked a big pot of pasta that should last you a few days at least, just in case. It's on the stove."

"Okay," Paloma dragged slowly. "This mysterious trip you're taking is gonna be so far away that you had to leave something for me to survive on?" She chuckled. "You mind telling me what's going on?"

Sights set on the laundry room, Quinn maneuvered around the woman with ease. "And don't forget to set your alarm for work every morning." She returned, hauling a big bag of dog food in her arms. Siberia hastened to her bowl the moment she heard the kibble hit the metal. "You forget sometimes."

Before Paloma knew it, Quinn was at the refrigerator door, pointing to a color-coded chart that she'd never seen before. "This is Siberia's feeding schedule. I'll be visiting a bunch throughout the week to see her, but you've gotta make sure she's getting fed on time, otherwise, she gets really cranky and disobedient."

"Sounds a lot like you." Paloma's amusement increased ten-fold when Quinn failed to acknowledge the joke. "Come on! Nothing?"

Quinn made a move for her suitcase, but, this time, Paloma was quick enough to stop her. "Okay, I totally commend your ability to ignore me, but it's time to stow this bit. It got old real fast. What the hell's going on?"

"I'm leaving."

"Yeah, I can see that that's the plan. Where to?"

"I'm heading to Ross'."

"Again? Since when have you gotten so into sleepovers? I know, at times, my cooking can be shitty but, really, is his that much better?"

"This isn't—" Quinn lamented and shifted from one foot to another. "It's not a sleepover. I'm gonna be staying a while."

Brown eyebrows climbed. "How long?"

"Don't know."

"I'm gonna need some sort of a timeframe, kid. And why the hell did you pack such a hefty suitcase? You—" Paloma's eyes washed over the younger Sullivan like a thorough shower. Not an inch of Quinn evaded the prolonged inspection. "You think you're leaving, leaving?"

"I know I am," professed Quinn. Before Paloma could get out another word, Quinn beat her to the punch. "I can't stay here anymore. Being here, with you, it's just too...familiar."

A samurai's sword wouldn't have been sharp enough to slice through the tension in that house.

"I get it. First the car, then the personal assistant, now this, huh?" Humorless grin on full display, Paloma placed her right hand over her heart. "Well, let me extend you my sincerest apologies. I am so sorry that I can't provide for you like Ross can, Quinn. That's on me. But, I can't help but wonder why when I 'overcompensate', you have an issue with it but when Ross does it, you fall to his feet like he's God."

That struck a nerve. "What are you talking about?"

"I'm talking about Ross a-and all this! He hands you a car out of the blue without even talking to me first! Then, when he finally does fill me in, he also slips in the fact that I don't even know what the hell's happening in my own house because, no matter how many times I check in on you, you make it your business to keep me in the dark! But, not Ross, apparently. Just make no mistake about this—he's overcompensating."

An atrocious leer on Quinn's part ensued. "Today marks the first time in, what, months, that I haven't smelled the stench of alcohol seeping from your veins? It must be a special occasion. And in purely Paloma fashion, you choose to utilize this brief period between one drink and the next arguing with me about something that's total bullshit."

Paloma crossed her arms over her chest. "What's bullshit is you thinking I'm gonna let you walk outta that door."

Quinn yanked her suitcase onto its wheels, cutting her eyes at the woman. "Watch me."

No more than half a second passed before Paloma had Quinn's arm in a firm grip. Though it was far from the first time she found herself in her older sister's steadfast clutches, the act took Quinn by surprise. Still, she jerked herself free all the same.

"It's not happening, Quinn!" Paloma hastened her pace, blocking the front door before the redhead could breach it.

"Why? Because you say so?"

"No, because the law says so. This isn't a custody battle. Until you hit eighteen, you are my responsibility. That's indisputable. If Ross was the intelligent man that he claims to be, he'd know that." Hoping to bring a drizzle of calmness to the home, Paloma lowered her voice. "Look, Ross is a good guy, I'm not saying he isn't, but if he thinks even for a second that he can just take you because he feels like it, he's got another thing comin'."

In a flash, Paloma terminated her position as a human barricade and tensed her jaw. "I'm not gonna stop you, but I can promise you this—you step foot inside that house, I'm calling the cops."

That was enough to make Quinn cease her pursuit. She smacked her lips, then whipped her head around to track the brunette who'd shelved the conversation and started up the stairs.

Paloma was quick, but Quinn's reflexes proved to be faster when she pressed her hand against Paloma's bedroom door, not allowing it to swing to a close as the woman intended. It was Paloma's turn to spin around to meet the girl.

"You're just like Uncle Perry," sibilated Quinn.

"Why? Because I'm not letting you do whatever the hell you want with some guy you met online?" For a brief spell, Paloma looked up at the ceiling. "Yeah, had he known, I'd like to think he'd stop you, too. That'd be one thing he'd do right."

"Ross isn't just some guy, Paloma! Why are you being such a bitch?!" In spite of Paloma not bothering to meet that with a response, Quinn didn't back down. "You and your self-loathing and pity parties—I'm sick of! Just because you're miserable, you have to make me miserable, too? You'd rather me sit around and watch you self-destruct instead of stay with someone that actually has their life together?"

"And that person is Ross?"

Quinn ignored her sister. "In every way possible, Paloma, you're like Uncle Perry. What, you think you're better because you can keep a house half-way clean? You need the bottle just to get of bed in the morning and instead of doing what's best for me, you do whatever you can to keep me close, just so you don't have to be alone."

Paloma could practically taste the bitterness on her lips. "That's why you think I'm doing this?"

"That's your motivation for absolutely everything! Well, I've got news for you, Paloma. If I got tired enough of living in Uncle Perry's crap to leave him, why the hell wouldn't I leave a drunk that has zero intention of changing?"

That stopped Paloma dead in her tracks. "You're the one who made the call on Perry? I thought they said it was anonymous."

"...Anyone can be anonymous if they wanna be." Quinn took in a breath then did away with her prominent frown. "Look, Ross isn't trying to undermine you. He was gonna talk to you about it first but he doesn't know I'm coming now. Either way, I can't take it here anymore, so..."

Paloma offered up a slow nod. "You know, not everyone has other family members that suddenly come outta the woodwork that they can depend on. In this whole world, I only have you. So, you'll have to forgive me when I get pissed off every time you side with other people or deliberately choose someone else over me."

"I'm not choosing Ross. I'm choosing to let you follow through on this self-destructive kick you're keen on, just without me. If we're lucky, when you're done, there'll still be something left over, something I can still work with and fix, but that's all up to you. I don't wanna be away from you, Paloma, but it's the only card I have left, so, again, I made the call. And it's unfortunate because I never thought you'd make me leave you, too."

With no particular sense of urgency, Quinn left the bedroom, descending the staircase once more and grabbing ahold of her suitcase.

"Call the cops, don't call the cops," she muttered over her shoulder. "Either way, I'm leaving."

The creek of the front door being yanked opened suddenly sounded like nails mercilessly scratching against a chalkboard.

"Wait, you—" When Quinn picked up speed, Paloma wet her lips, her fingers fidgeting impetuously with the tail end of her blouse. "For God's sake, Quinn! Would you please just—" Before she could stop herself, the brunette blurted, "I-I went to a meeting!"

The sigh of relief that Paloma expunged could be heard for miles once Quinn suddenly—finally—stood still.

"An A.A. meeting," the elder Sullivan explained. "It stands for 'Alcoholics Anonymous'." Her eyes squeezed shut for a sold five seconds, a pitiful laugh following closely behind. "God, saying it out loud is even worse than it is in my head."

Quinn turned around, putting the sun to her back. "I know what it stands for, Paloma."

Paloma's bottom lip gradually turned white once her top row of teeth clamped down onto it. "Earlier, I mean. That's when I went. Today. This morning." Restlessly, her fingers tugged at one another. "A part of me already thinks they're bullshit but I'm not an idiot. I know I have a problem so I went and I haven't had a drink all day which is making me a thousand times bitchier than usual, I know. But...I went."

Right hand painfully gripping the handle of her suitcase, Quinn said, "I'm not sure what I'm supposed to get from that information, Paloma."

Hopelessly, Paloma shrugged. For what seemed to be an eternity, she took a sudden interest in her nails. Finally, she met Quinn's never-ending frown with a smile that bled ferociously with uncertainty.

"That I'm trying? That I know I've been a terrible sister because I'm still just so...angry. When shit like what happened happens, I don't know how else to be. I've been taking it out on you, especially, and that was only the case because I knew you'd always be here. But I was wrong, apparently." Her laugh was forced and everything but fearless. "It means that things won't always be like this. I won't always be like this."

"Is this the part where I forgive you because your promises are enough for us to keep going like nothing happened?" Quinn fluttered her hand as though she were in the presence of royalty. "Lemme lay it out for you: you'll hit up a couple of meetings then stop shortly after once it becomes 'too much'; you'll go back to drinking, hitting the bottle even harder this time, and, eventually, we'll end up right back where we started."

"No," barked Paloma. "I—"

"Now, that's just a brief overview. Of course, you'll also be picking even more fights with me during that time. Then, you'll top it off by bitching about absolutely everything under the sun, all the while, destroying your kidneys. You'll drink and you'll keep drinking until..." Quinn's teeter was drenched in sarcasm. "Well, until your body won't let you anymore. And you mean to tell me you want me to stick around to bear witness?"

Paloma's tone waned as uncertainty settled deep in her chest. "It won't be like that."

"It already was like that, Paloma. You tried to stop before, remember? And, boy, you were so sorry then, too; so sure that you could beat it, but you know why you didn't? Because like a toddler, your only solution to life's problem is to throw a tantrum. Only difference is, your tantrums destroy absolutely everything around you. Despite what you promised me and Ava, you couldn't beat it or fix anything. You were wrong. Survey says, you'll be wrong again."

That stung worse than a viscous jellyfish attack. "...After what Ava did, I couldn't for the life of me get it out of my head—the sheer reminder that having a family of my own will probably never happen. And I couldn't get over it. Sometimes I still feel like I can't, so I just wanted to forget that I was ever even close to having that but I can't because...my mind won't let me."

Stowing her impending fumes, Paloma smiled sincerely this time. "But, I still have you. You're the only family I need and, for that reason, I'll pick myself up and I'll move on because me and you...it's what we do."

Exhaust ever-present, Quinn sighed. "If nothing more, that proves my point. You're afraid of being alone and that fear, it motivates you. Why the hell would I believe that this time would be any different than the last? How do I know you're not just telling me what I wanna hear?"

Paloma nodded her head because, really, that was more than fair. Besides, this time, Paloma was sure. "You and I both know that when I get my mind set on something, I make it happen. I'm not gonna get my shit together because I'm afraid of being alone but because I messed up with you before. It was the worst thing I ever did, and it will not happen again. I won't let it."

Like a proud, patriotic soldier, Paloma stood up straight, instantly resembling her father's army portrait—what used to be practically a centerpiece in the living room their old, family home.

"You don't have to go someplace—anyplace—else because this time, I'm gonna make it right. I promise you that. I will do whatever the hell it takes to clean up the mess that I've made, but I can't do us being apart again."

"Can't you?" Quinn scoffed. "You've hardly said two words to me these last few months."

"Doesn't mean I won't miss you, that I haven't been missing you. You know me, I'm almost as stubborn as you are."

Somehow, that brought a grin to Quinn's face. "Stop," she grumbled out of bad sportsmanship.

"Either way," continued Paloma, "that was incredibly immature of me and it stops now. All of it. No more bitchy attitudes, no more drinking, just focusing on what's best for our family. It'll work. It will." Her jaw locked tighter than a pirate's treasure chest. "It has to."

Time practically stood still and as much as she hated it, Paloma was just as desperate and afraid as she'd been when the redhead first barreled past her, gunning for the front door. A single nod of the head was all Quinn offered. Brushing past her older sister, she tugged on her suitcase, dragging it back inside with as much contempt as she would a dead body.

"It better."