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CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO the end of the f***ing world
⋆*✧･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ:
FOR THE FIRST TIME in days, Molly Hamasaki stepped inside her house, closing the door softly behind her. She stood for a moment in the genkan, taking in the framed photos on the walls. There were pictures of herself in elementary school, grinning gap-toothed smiles; an anniversary photo of her and John, holding hands and looking at each other like they were the only people on Earth; a group shot of her and the Gallagher family, hoisting Jodi on her shoulders; and a candid image of her and Nadine, heads thrown back in laughter.
The cat-shaped clock on her wall (John had given it to her on her birthday) ticked. Crickets murmured outside her window. The refrigerator hummed. Molly breathed in, taking in the smell of fresh laundry, oranges, and the faintest hint of incense. Then, she finally removed her shoes, slipped into her uwabaki, and headed into the kitchen for a cup of tea.
On the way, she passed a jacket light blue thrown casually over a chair. It was Nadine's, made of wool, bound together with gleaming buttons. Nadine had gotten it for herself with her first Dallas Aquarium paycheck, even though she'd been frustrated that she wasn't making as much as her male coworkers. It smelled like her, like perfume and the faintest hint of sweat. Molly skimmed her fingers over the fabric.
It hadn't even been a day since she'd parted with Nadine (a day that had been unfortunately busy—after what had happened with President Kennedy, her grandparents had insisted on going back home, and Molly had helped them pack their things), and she was already itching to see her again. She'd seen for herself the lies the press was spreading about her girlfriend—when she'd turned on the television earlier, she'd been confronted with a reporter naming Nadine as a member of a terrorist group—and couldn't help but worry that she'd been caught.
She'd only managed to stay sane by telling herself that Nadine would be safer with the Umbrella Academy. It had taken a constant repetition in her mind as she drove her grandparents to the airport to keep her from fleeing back to Morty's.
Now, she'd come home. Nadine hadn't called. Molly had scanned the news frantically, but there was no news of any arrests. Nadine could handle herself. She had to be all right. She had to.
When Molly entered the kitchen, she glimpsed her reflection in the refrigerator's mirror. The wound she'd gotten on the gala was still there, though fortunately healing. Still, she didn't like to look at her. She averted her eyes.
Molly turned on the kettle and pulled out a bag of jasmine tea. Then, while waiting for the water to boil, she headed into the living room. Her chessboard was still propped up on the coffee table, locked into her winning game against Nicholas. She hadn't even gotten to put it away before she'd left with Nadine...
