P
PunkPrince
Guest
Original poster
"Yes...okay. All right, thank you."
Click.
Kennedy placed the phone back onto the receiver, her hands trembling as she fumbled to slide the phone back onto the hook. She leaned against the wall for a moment before sinking to the floor and burying her face in her hands. She choked back her tears, crumbling forward to rest her head on her knees before bursting into sobs. She was silently grateful that the kids had gone out. They didn't need to see her this way. And she didn't want them to.
She had a niece. By her brother, the one who had spent his entire life mistreating her. She was thirteen and he'd never told neither Kennedy or their mother about her. He'd had custody of her for the last three years and nobody had had any idea.
That was over with now. Logan had finally been arrested--exactly what the charge was she wasn't sure--and the child could no longer stay with him. The first person the authorities had gone to had been their mother, Bianca. Bea had been just as floored as everyone else was. She would have taken the girl in a heartbeat. She almost had. But Bea, though not as old as some might be was in no position to raise another child, and Kennedy supposed, though her mother would probably never admit such a thing to her, that Bea was too afraid to try again.
She really had tried with Logan. She had tried desperately with both of them, but Bea had been a young mother, and Logan had been a more difficult child to raise. Always angry, always fighting. And nobody had ever known why. Bea had often said, when she thought Kennedy wasn't listening, that he got it from his father. Kennedy didn't know who Logan's father was--Kennedy didn't even know who her own father was--and a part of her wasn't entirely sure that her mother even knew.
But all her efforts with the boy had failed. He had grown from an angry child to an even angrier adult, and Kennedy had eventually been forced to flee her mother's house to stay safe. The memory of it was fresh in her mind. Her mother had pressed an envelope containing several hundred dollars into her hand, pressed a kiss to her forehead, and Kennedy had gotten into her car and driven off.
The siblings had remained estranged. They saw one another occasionally, their poor mother desperately trying to facilitate some sort of bond between her adult children.
And then, last year, just after she had finally managed to scrape up enough money for the surgery she had wanted her whole life, when she should have been over the moon with joy, Logan had followed her into their mother's bathroom and pinned her against the wall, blocking the door with his body and shifting his frame to trap her as she scrambled to get past him. She had punched him, clawed him, kicked him. But in the end, he was bigger and stronger than her, despite the fact that she was the older one, and he forced himself on her with little struggle.
Their mother had caught him. She had heard Kennedy screaming, and Logan had failed to lock the door behind him.
The siblings never spoke again. Kennedy hadn't pressed charges on him. She'd been too fragile afterward to even consider confronting that idea. And she had hoped that perhaps, somewhere deep down inside him, that maybe her brother really could be good if she just remained out of his life so as not to upset him.
But she had been wrong. She had been wrong, and by not trying harder to have Logan kept away from others, she had in turn, failed her niece. The last call had had the most detail of what Logan had done to her. He had been just as bad to his own daughter as he had been to Kennedy herself--the flamboyant older brother who had in time, become a confident and graceful older sister. And he had only grown to hate her more because of it.
Kennedy lifted her tear stained face. Her gaze travelled up the staircase, and she scrambled weakly to her feet. "Eva!"
***
Kennedy pressed her face into Eva's shoulder, sinking into the taller woman's frame as her tears began to slow. Curled on the bed, she couldn't help but feel the situation was somewhat backwards. The vast majority of their relationship, Kennedy had always been the stronger one. She had, for the most part, always been Eva's protector. Her wife had always been softer than Kennedy herself was. Gentle and soft spoken, but easily bruised emotionally. The reversal, while not unneeded or unwanted, was slightly foreign to Kennedy. Kennedy rarely cried. For most of her childhood she had never been able to allow herself to, and as an adult still tended to hide her vulnerability behind prickliness.
"I knew," Kennedy said, her voice shaking. "I knew what he was capable of and I didn't do anything. I never should have let him go. All of this is my fault. My own niece had to suffer because of him, and it's my own fucking fault. I could've gotten her out of there so much sooner if I'd just said something."
She felt Eva squeeze her hand. "None of this is in any way your fault," Eva promised gently. "You had no way of knowing she was even there in the first place. And I know you. If you had known about her, you would have done everything to get her away from him. It was the foster care system''s responsibility to make sure she was being placed somewhere suitable. The were supposed to be checking in on her, making sure she was safe. That's who failed her. Not you."
Kennedy didn't say anything, just kept her arms wrapped around her wife, still trembling with a mixture of despair and rage. Eva gingerly ran a hand through Kennedy's hair. "But we're suitable," Eva said after a moment. "We'll take good care of her here, and you can make up for all the years you've missed. We'll make things right for her."
Kennedy glanced up as the door opened. "We're back!" Jupiter's voice called up the stairs. "Where are you guys?"
Kennedy shrank back and looked wordlessly up at Eva. I don't want them to see me like this. Eva gave her shoulder a squeeze. "I'll go," she said gently. "You can come down when you're ready." Eva leaned down to kiss her on the forehead before slipping out of the room, pulling the door shut behind her.
***
The oven beeped and Eva set the tray of cookies on the counter. She knew without turning to look that the footsteps scrambling down the stairs belonged to Ronan. "Don't eat them all before I've finished baking the batch," she scolded him. "Save at least something for Christmas. And they aren't even frosted yet."
Ronan smirked and reached out to grab one of the cookies. "I'm eating this one," he said. "It's deformed." He turned to look at Hugo, who was settled in a chair at the kitchen table. "Split it?"
He let out an alarmed squeak as the still soft person-shaped cookie cracked in half as he picked it up. Jupiter snickered as they came up behind their brothers, reaching over Ronan's shoulder to grab the top half of the cookie.
"Looks like you after we try to wake you up in the morning," Jupiter said, passing half of the cookie to Hugo. "Sad and crumbling"
Hugo swatted at Jupiter, who darted out of their way, snickering. "Where's Kennedy?" Hugo asked, glancing back up toward the stairs.
Eva followed his gaze. "I...she'll be down shortly. You know she's been nervous about today. Juliette should be here by noon."
As if on cue, a car rolled into the driveway and came to a stop. Eva glanced anxiously toward the window and back up the window. "Kennedy!" she called.
Kennedy was standing in her bedroom doorway, fully dressed with her hair still just slightly damp. She could see her family, but they couldn't see her. She had spent the entire week since she had gotten that phone call in somewhat of a haze, punctuated only by even more prickliness than normal. She had been snippy with almost everyone in the last few days, and they were gentler than normal with her in response.
She craned her neck, hoping to see the girl out the window, but couldn't catch a glimpse of her. Descending the stairs, Kennedy found herself fidgeting nervously. She wondered how much the social worker had told Juliette about her. About all of them. They hadn't told Kennedy much at all about Juliette herself. She suddenly realized she wasn't sure if the girl was expecting an aunt or an uncle. Had Logan ever spoken to Juliette about her? Probably not highly, if he had mentioned her at all.
And then there was a knock at the door. Kennedy took a deep breath, smiled, and pulled open the door.
Click.
Kennedy placed the phone back onto the receiver, her hands trembling as she fumbled to slide the phone back onto the hook. She leaned against the wall for a moment before sinking to the floor and burying her face in her hands. She choked back her tears, crumbling forward to rest her head on her knees before bursting into sobs. She was silently grateful that the kids had gone out. They didn't need to see her this way. And she didn't want them to.
She had a niece. By her brother, the one who had spent his entire life mistreating her. She was thirteen and he'd never told neither Kennedy or their mother about her. He'd had custody of her for the last three years and nobody had had any idea.
That was over with now. Logan had finally been arrested--exactly what the charge was she wasn't sure--and the child could no longer stay with him. The first person the authorities had gone to had been their mother, Bianca. Bea had been just as floored as everyone else was. She would have taken the girl in a heartbeat. She almost had. But Bea, though not as old as some might be was in no position to raise another child, and Kennedy supposed, though her mother would probably never admit such a thing to her, that Bea was too afraid to try again.
She really had tried with Logan. She had tried desperately with both of them, but Bea had been a young mother, and Logan had been a more difficult child to raise. Always angry, always fighting. And nobody had ever known why. Bea had often said, when she thought Kennedy wasn't listening, that he got it from his father. Kennedy didn't know who Logan's father was--Kennedy didn't even know who her own father was--and a part of her wasn't entirely sure that her mother even knew.
But all her efforts with the boy had failed. He had grown from an angry child to an even angrier adult, and Kennedy had eventually been forced to flee her mother's house to stay safe. The memory of it was fresh in her mind. Her mother had pressed an envelope containing several hundred dollars into her hand, pressed a kiss to her forehead, and Kennedy had gotten into her car and driven off.
The siblings had remained estranged. They saw one another occasionally, their poor mother desperately trying to facilitate some sort of bond between her adult children.
And then, last year, just after she had finally managed to scrape up enough money for the surgery she had wanted her whole life, when she should have been over the moon with joy, Logan had followed her into their mother's bathroom and pinned her against the wall, blocking the door with his body and shifting his frame to trap her as she scrambled to get past him. She had punched him, clawed him, kicked him. But in the end, he was bigger and stronger than her, despite the fact that she was the older one, and he forced himself on her with little struggle.
Their mother had caught him. She had heard Kennedy screaming, and Logan had failed to lock the door behind him.
The siblings never spoke again. Kennedy hadn't pressed charges on him. She'd been too fragile afterward to even consider confronting that idea. And she had hoped that perhaps, somewhere deep down inside him, that maybe her brother really could be good if she just remained out of his life so as not to upset him.
But she had been wrong. She had been wrong, and by not trying harder to have Logan kept away from others, she had in turn, failed her niece. The last call had had the most detail of what Logan had done to her. He had been just as bad to his own daughter as he had been to Kennedy herself--the flamboyant older brother who had in time, become a confident and graceful older sister. And he had only grown to hate her more because of it.
Kennedy lifted her tear stained face. Her gaze travelled up the staircase, and she scrambled weakly to her feet. "Eva!"
***
Kennedy pressed her face into Eva's shoulder, sinking into the taller woman's frame as her tears began to slow. Curled on the bed, she couldn't help but feel the situation was somewhat backwards. The vast majority of their relationship, Kennedy had always been the stronger one. She had, for the most part, always been Eva's protector. Her wife had always been softer than Kennedy herself was. Gentle and soft spoken, but easily bruised emotionally. The reversal, while not unneeded or unwanted, was slightly foreign to Kennedy. Kennedy rarely cried. For most of her childhood she had never been able to allow herself to, and as an adult still tended to hide her vulnerability behind prickliness.
"I knew," Kennedy said, her voice shaking. "I knew what he was capable of and I didn't do anything. I never should have let him go. All of this is my fault. My own niece had to suffer because of him, and it's my own fucking fault. I could've gotten her out of there so much sooner if I'd just said something."
She felt Eva squeeze her hand. "None of this is in any way your fault," Eva promised gently. "You had no way of knowing she was even there in the first place. And I know you. If you had known about her, you would have done everything to get her away from him. It was the foster care system''s responsibility to make sure she was being placed somewhere suitable. The were supposed to be checking in on her, making sure she was safe. That's who failed her. Not you."
Kennedy didn't say anything, just kept her arms wrapped around her wife, still trembling with a mixture of despair and rage. Eva gingerly ran a hand through Kennedy's hair. "But we're suitable," Eva said after a moment. "We'll take good care of her here, and you can make up for all the years you've missed. We'll make things right for her."
Kennedy glanced up as the door opened. "We're back!" Jupiter's voice called up the stairs. "Where are you guys?"
Kennedy shrank back and looked wordlessly up at Eva. I don't want them to see me like this. Eva gave her shoulder a squeeze. "I'll go," she said gently. "You can come down when you're ready." Eva leaned down to kiss her on the forehead before slipping out of the room, pulling the door shut behind her.
***
The oven beeped and Eva set the tray of cookies on the counter. She knew without turning to look that the footsteps scrambling down the stairs belonged to Ronan. "Don't eat them all before I've finished baking the batch," she scolded him. "Save at least something for Christmas. And they aren't even frosted yet."
Ronan smirked and reached out to grab one of the cookies. "I'm eating this one," he said. "It's deformed." He turned to look at Hugo, who was settled in a chair at the kitchen table. "Split it?"
He let out an alarmed squeak as the still soft person-shaped cookie cracked in half as he picked it up. Jupiter snickered as they came up behind their brothers, reaching over Ronan's shoulder to grab the top half of the cookie.
"Looks like you after we try to wake you up in the morning," Jupiter said, passing half of the cookie to Hugo. "Sad and crumbling"
Hugo swatted at Jupiter, who darted out of their way, snickering. "Where's Kennedy?" Hugo asked, glancing back up toward the stairs.
Eva followed his gaze. "I...she'll be down shortly. You know she's been nervous about today. Juliette should be here by noon."
As if on cue, a car rolled into the driveway and came to a stop. Eva glanced anxiously toward the window and back up the window. "Kennedy!" she called.
Kennedy was standing in her bedroom doorway, fully dressed with her hair still just slightly damp. She could see her family, but they couldn't see her. She had spent the entire week since she had gotten that phone call in somewhat of a haze, punctuated only by even more prickliness than normal. She had been snippy with almost everyone in the last few days, and they were gentler than normal with her in response.
She craned her neck, hoping to see the girl out the window, but couldn't catch a glimpse of her. Descending the stairs, Kennedy found herself fidgeting nervously. She wondered how much the social worker had told Juliette about her. About all of them. They hadn't told Kennedy much at all about Juliette herself. She suddenly realized she wasn't sure if the girl was expecting an aunt or an uncle. Had Logan ever spoken to Juliette about her? Probably not highly, if he had mentioned her at all.
And then there was a knock at the door. Kennedy took a deep breath, smiled, and pulled open the door.