Monday mornings were usually the worst, but this one wasn’t so bad.
For once, Leah didn’t have work, which meant she stayed buried under her blankets until the sunlight climbing through her curtains became impossible to ignore.
The reservation didn’t get many bright mornings, so when they did, it felt almost aggressive.
Dog-eared magazines lay scattered around her room, mixed with a mountain of laundry she’d been pretending didn’t exist for days.
She was halfway through lazily flipping pages when her mom’s voice drifted down the hallway.
“Leah!
Come help me with lunch, would you?” Leah groaned dramatically into her pillow before dragging herself out of bed.
She shuffled toward the kitchen with tangled hair and an expression hovering somewhere between neutral and mildly homicidal.
Sue Clearwater was already at the counter chopping vegetables, a soft smile tugging at her lips.
“You’re up late,” she said, sounding almost amused.
Leah grabbed a knife and reached for the tomatoes.
“No work, no reason,” she muttered.
They worked side by side for a while, a comfortable kind of silence settling between them.
The only sounds were the rhythmic tap of knives against the cutting board and the quiet sizzle coming from the stove.
Then Sue spoke casually.
“I’m going to see Emily later.
She needs her bandages changed again.” Leah’s hand paused halfway through slicing a tomato.
Before she could say anything, Sue continued carefully.
“Do you want to come with me?
Emily misses you, sweetheart.” That struck a nerve.
Normally, Leah would’ve fired back instantly.
Misses me?
Yeah, right.
But this time the words never came.
She kept cutting instead, but slower now.
Sue seemed to notice the lack of immediate explosions and took it as encouragement.
“It wasn’t Emily’s fault, you know,” she said quietly.
“Sam made his own choices.
Emily turned him away more than once.” Leah’s jaw tightened.
Before, those words would’ve bounced right off her.
But now…
For some reason, another face slipped into her thoughts.
Mike.
That stupid grin of his.
That ridiculous confidence.
The way he somehow kept making her laugh no matter how hard she tried not to.
He didn’t seem like the type to cling to anger.
He’d probably say something dumb and weirdly wise at the same time.
Life’s too short to spend all your energy being angry.
Or something cheesy like that.
And for the first time, the idea didn’t sound impossible.
Leah slowly set the knife down and let out a breath.
“Fine.” Sue blinked.
“Fine?” Leah shrugged, suddenly finding the tomatoes very interesting.
“I’ll go with you.
Just don’t make a big deal out of it.” For a moment Sue simply stared.
Then relief softened her face, and she turned back toward the stove with a quiet smile.
Leah rolled her eyes, mostly to hide the tiny smile threatening to appear on her own face.
‘Guess I’m seeing Emily after all.’ Strangely enough, the idea no longer felt like dragging herself through broken glass.
… The smell of pasta filled the house later that afternoon just as the front door swung open.
Heavy footsteps came first, followed by Seth’s voice.
“I’m starving!” Leah smirked.
Typical Seth.
“Perfect timing,” Sue called from the kitchen.
“Wash up.
Lunch is ready.” Then Harry Clearwater walked in wearing his work uniform, a faint streak of engine grease still smudged across his forearm.
He leaned down to kiss Sue’s cheek before taking his seat.
Meanwhile Seth practically launched himself toward the table like he’d just completed a marathon.
The moment food hit his plate, he attacked it with the focus of a wild animal.
“Slow down, idiot,” Leah said dryly.
“The food’s not gonna suddenly grow legs and escape.” Seth mumbled something through a mouthful of pasta and then started eating even faster.
Leah rolled her eyes.
Harry chuckled and shook his head.
“You two never change.” But there was something softer beneath the amusement.
His eyes lingered on Leah a little longer than usual, like he was studying her.
Leah frowned slightly.
“What?” Harry smiled.
“Nothing.” He paused.
“You just seem…
lighter.” Leah twirled pasta around her fork.
“Yeah, Dad.
Why wouldn’t I be?” He looked at her for another second but didn’t push.
Instead he nodded.
“Good.” A small smile tugged at his mouth.
“It’s nice seeing you smile again.” Leah suddenly felt weirdly self-conscious.
“Don’t get used to it.” Across the table Seth grinned, tomato sauce smeared across his chin.
“See, Dad?
She can be nice.
It’s like spotting Bigfoot, but it happens once in a while.” Leah stared at him for exactly one second, then flicked a piece of pasta directly at his forehead.
Smack~ “Hey!” “Oops, I’m sorry,” she said flatly.
The grin ruining her expression made the apology significantly less convincing.
Sue smiled quietly from her seat, and Leah caught it for just a moment.
And suddenly the house felt like home again.
… After lunch, while Seth began his usual campaign against dish duty, Harry jingled his car keys.
“Ready?” Sue nodded before looking toward Leah.
“You still want to go?” Leah hesitated for only a moment, then nodded.
“Yeah.” Seth groaned dramatically.
“Lucky.
I have homework.” “You also have thumbs,” Leah shot back.
“Try using them for something besides video games.” Harry laughed while Sue shook her head fondly.
The drive passed quietly after that.
Trees slid by outside the windows while the distant scent of ocean air drifted through the car.
Leah rested her head against the glass and watched her reflection blur past.
She wasn’t sure what she expected.
Closure?
Forgiveness?
Something else?
She honestly didn’t know.
But for once…
She was willing to find out.
… The drive ended outside a small weathered house near the edge of Makah land.
Emily’s home.
The ocean breeze carried the scent of salt and pine, while gulls cried somewhere in the distance.
Sue knocked softly.
A few seconds later, uneven footsteps approached.
When the door opened, Leah froze.
Emily stood there with one side of her face hidden beneath fresh white bandages faintly stained pink.
Her visible eye looked swollen and red, like she’d been crying for hours.
Even so, she still smiled when she saw Sue.
“Aunt Sue…” Emily said softly.
“You didn’t have to come all this way.” Then her eyes shifted and her smile faltered.
Leah stood there silently.
For a long moment neither moved.
Neither spoke.
Leah had imagined this moment a hundred different ways, and every version involved angry accusations and bitterness.
But standing here now, looking at Emily…
Seeing the guilt and pain in her eyes.
The anger just…
Drained away.
“Hi,” Leah said quietly.
Emily blinked.
“…Hi.” Sue stepped in before the silence could swallow them both.
“We brought clean bandages.” Emily moved aside.
“Come in.” Inside, the house felt neat and warm, but strangely quiet.
Family photos lined the walls.
Emily smiling, face unmarred.
Moments frozen in time.
Leah looked away.
When Emily offered them tea, Leah declined with a polite shake of her head.
She wasn’t sure she could keep her hands from trembling if she held a cup.
Later, as Sue prepared fresh gauze and antiseptic, Leah surprised even herself.
“Let me help.” Both Emily and Sue stared, but Leah avoided looking at either of them.
“Just tell me what to do.” As Sue carefully removed the old dressings, Leah finally saw the wounds underneath.
Four deep scars stretched across Emily’s face, angry and raw.
Leah felt her breath catch.
“Emily…” Guilt twisted painfully in her chest.
‘I should’ve been here.’ Emily saw the look on her face and smiled weakly.
“It’s okay, Leah.” But Leah knew it wasn’t.
Not yet.
… When they finished, Sue squeezed Emily’s shoulder gently.
“There we go.” Then she smiled knowingly.
“I’ll give you girls a minute.” When the door clicked shut behind her, the room fell silent.
Emily sat at the edge of the bed with her hands twisted nervously in her lap.
Leah lowered herself into a chair nearby.
For a while, neither spoke.
Then Emily broke first.
“I’m sorry, Leah.” Tears spilled instantly.
“I never wanted any of this.
I told him no so many times.
I told him to stop, but he just…” Her voice cracked.
“I never wanted to hurt you.” Leah stared at her for a while, and something inside finally gave way.
“Stop it,” she muttered thickly.
“Stop crying.” Emily looked up.
“You’re making me cry too and it’s annoying.” Emily laughed weakly through her tears.
“Sorry.” And that was it.
The dam broke.
Leah laughed through her own tears.
“I can’t believe I almost lost my best friend over some stupid guy.” She wiped furiously at her eyes.
“Sam doesn’t deserve this many tears.” And when she said his name…
Nothing happened.
No pain.
No anger.
No bitterness.
Just a quiet emptiness.
She looked at Emily again, and for the first time in months, she didn’t see betrayal.
Only hurt.
Only someone she loved.
Leah reached forward and pulled her into a hug.
Emily stiffened for a moment, then melted against her, crying harder.
Neither of them spoke for a while, they didn’t need to.
And when they finally pulled apart, they were both a mess of tears and blotchy faces.
But Leah felt lighter.
Like some wound buried deep inside her had finally started healing.