"And I was startled because I didn't think she was breathing, and I slipped on the drink and fell to the floor, doing this to my hands." I pause for a short moment to hold them up, showing off my bandages, which are making it difficult to sign, but not impossible. "And then the boys came in to check on me, and I was crying and I didn't know what to do. Then I found this note." I walk over to her nightstand, careful not to slip on the concoction that's there, and pick up the note. 
                          
"'I'm sorry'," the girl reads aloud, reaching over and plucking the note from my hands. "I'm sorry; I'm sorry; I'm sorry," she continues to mumble under her breath, still disbelieving, just as I am. Then she looks back up at me and I see the tears gathering in her eyes. "She was sorry? But... how could she be sorry? She hated you. That's what she always told me." I don't let the words get to me. I know in this moment, they're not coming from her as an insult. They're coming from a complete state of confusion and grief.
                          
"I don't know, Marie. I really don't. I thought she hated me too. I was sure of it, but apparently she was sorry for everything she's done to me."
                          
And then the girl does something I haven't witnessed since I was seven and she was eight, when she got yelled at by the mean, older girls in our school, and I had to comfort her in the bathroom stall after recess. We sat in that bathroom for the rest of that day, until Dad came and picked us up.
                          
Marie runs into my arms and sobs into my hair, which proves a tiny bit awkward, as she's quite a bit taller than me. But I don't hesitate to wrap my arms around her in a comforting embrace, rubbing her back and shushing her, though it burns my throat immensely to do so. 
                          
We're turned in a way that when I look over her shoulder, I can see the boys behind her, still at the door--clueless as to what they should do. And truthfully, I am too. For once in so many years, I actually feel like we're sisters. I guess what they say is true: death has a weird way of bringing people together. At least, I'm pretty sure I've heard that somewhere. Maybe in a book.
                          
"What are we gonna do, Sang? Dad's out with some wench, and Mom's gone. And all we have is each other." I thought I was the only one who knew Dad wasn't actually on a business trip. I don't bother correcting her on the fact that Katherine wasn't my mom, and instead just lean back a little and release her from my arms--only so that I can actually answer her. 
                          
"I'm staying with Nathan for a while. Is there anywhere you can stay that isn't with Dad?" 
                          
"I think I might be able to stay at Danielle's. And speaking of Dad, we really need to call him." 
                          
My eyes widen. Wow, I complete forgot about calling him from the house phone. 
                          
"And what about the cops? We need to call them, too."
                          
"That's already been done, Miss Sorenson." Okay, I don't like that he calls her Miss Sorenson. Even in this sad time, I still somehow manage to be jealous over a boy who isn't even mine. A man, technically.
                          
"Um, you can just call me Marie," she girl sniffles, rubbing the snot off her nose with the back of her hand. But somehow it doesn't look super gross when she does it--not like it did when I did it, I'm sure.
                          
"Alright, Miss Marie," she sighs when he says this, because I'm pretty sure she knows it's not going to get any better than that. "The authorities have been notified."
                          
She nods and then something flashes through her still-glistening eyes. "Wait, aren't you a teacher at our school?" Looking to Sean, she asks, "You, too?"
                          
Their eyes grow large and the latter quickly tries to change the subject. "I think we should all get out of this room. It isn't good for anyone." We all nod and begin to exit, Marie taking a moment longer to kiss her mother goodbye and then leave with more tears.
                          
I grab her hand and walk of the room with her, as we all make our way to the living room. As soon as we do, the "authorities" arrive, looking all real and professional in their police uniforms. But I know they're not. And if they're here and they're Academy, then I know my boys trust them. So, I trust them, too. 
                          
"Sang Sorenson?" one asks, looking at me, something in his eyes. I don't know what it is, but I've been getting it all day from the guys at school. And I just don't know what to make of it.
                          
I nod my head yes, and the "questioning" begins. I really don't know why we need Academy here. I mean, is it really so bad for me to talk to the police? But Owen said he'll explain later, so I'm just counting on that.
                          
It takes about twenty minutes for the questioning to be over, and in that twenty minutes, Marie packs her bag and prepares to go to Danielle's house. And, of course, Dad is called. Though, he doesn't sound as sad as he should--as a loving husband should. And obviously I know he didn't really love her anymore, not like that, but I guess I just thought he'd feel more than he did. He just sounded bored over the phone call between him and Marie. 
                          
And I guess she's going to be staying over at Danielle's for a month until she turns eighteen. I feel really sorry for her, and I make my feelings known, but she says she prefers it like this: her with Danielle instead of Dad. I tell her that I'm staying with Nathan again, and she's confused, but I don't explain our relationship. And she doesn't call me a whore. Not even once. So unusual.
                          
Both knowing we're going to see each other at school, we also decide to visit each other once every weekend. She claims that she'll actually miss me; that she never realized how much she loves me until now. Until the tragic death of her mother. And yeah, I still don't understand how, after so many years of her treating me like less than garbage, now she's treating me like an actual sister.
                          
It's strange and I'm a little weirded out by it, but I know she needs me. And I'll be there to support her, like sisters should. Like she never did to me, but like I always wished for.
                          
We're about to leave the house, the boys and I, the "police" still at my house, but something catches my eye before I make my departure... A note, folded up and just barely noticable as it sticks out from under one of the cushions on the couch: a place where 'Volto' knows only I would notice it.
                          
And I know what this means. Instantly, I know what this means. And I'm so scared to read it, but I just have to hear what this terrifying, mysterious person wrote for me.
                          
I pick it up, and almost cry at the words. 
                          
You don't need those boys.
All you need is me.
They lack any poise,
And one day you'll see.
                          
They're all selfish and vain,
But I can be so much more.
There's so much they won't explain.
And their secrets, you can't ignore.
                          
- Volto
                          
The boys wouldn't hide anything from me that I didn't need to know. They wouldn't leave me in the dark unless it's some top-secret information from the Academy. They wouldn't intentionally forget about me. Would they?
____________________________________
                          
Sorry for how rushed this chapter might seem and the terrible editing. I had, like, a half hour to finish writing this chapter (I'd already finished about half of it), and I decided I'd update now. That way, it isn't days more until you guys get a chapter. Anyway, I love you all. Thanks for putting up with me!
As always, until next time...
                          
Sincerely,
Tori