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( volume iii, chapter lxii )
death is a duty
Riverdale.
Once a safe, decent, innocent place had become Noir Town, like the setting of a Raymond Chandler story, filled with dames to kill for, postmen who like to ring twice, and more mobsters than a Scorsese retrospective at the Bijou.
We were a town of lost souls, each of us wrestling with demons. Each of us with secrets we were trying to keep.
THISTLEHOUSE
DECEMBER 18TH, 2018
RIVERDALE
''You came.''
''You called,'' Mia shrugged, trying her best to appear like she couldn't care less; spoiler alert, she cared. ''Besides, it's what friends do.''
If the platonic terminology affected Cheryl, then she did a great job at hiding it.
It had been a total of four days since the cat came out of the bag, which marked four days since Mia and Cheryl's unofficial breakup — if you could even call it that.
They hadn't spoken about where they stood. Hell, they hadn't spoken a single syllable to each other. It was not a lack of effort, for Cheryl had ambushed her girlfriend any chance she got, but she only got two tries before Mia simply didn't show up to school.
Yet, when the redhead called, the blonde picked up without a second thought. Yes, she was mad. She was hurt. She was jealous. But most of all, she was betrayed. It wasn't the secret itself that hurt in the slightest, it was the fact that that's what it was — a secret.
''Come, it is about to commence.''
Mia trailed behind Cheryl through the winding staircases and gothic hallways of Thistlehouse. She knew her way around, but arriving to the service on her own didn't seem right given recent events.
''We are gathered today to mourn the passing of one of our own.''
Penelope began to read the second she caught sight of her daughter and girlfriend; clearly, she couldn't wait for the whole thing to be over. Mia took the only seat available, one right between Betty and Cheryl, crossing one leg over another and doing her best to silently support.
