「 RICOCHET 」JM ₃

039 michael and his best girl

Bianca brought her hand up to knock against the bedroom door before her mind could tell her to keep walking. Whether it be the alcohol or the exhaustion, she wasn't thinking straight. She just needed her mom.

A soft 'come in' was the final push for Bianca to twist the door knob and step inside, "Sorry," She mumbled, trying to peer through the darkness. "Did I wake you?"

Lydia cleared her throat, reaching over to flick on her bedside lamp, "No. No, I was awake," The room lit up in an amber hue. "Bianca, have you been drinking? I can smell it from here."

"Sorry," Bianca sniffled, the picture still tightly folded in her hand.

Only when Lydia's eyes finally adjusted to the light did she notice her daughter's bloodshot eyes and disheveled clothes. The sight made whatever motherly instinct was left in her to kick in, "Oh, baby," She shuffled over on the bed, lifting the blanket. "Come here."

Bianca hesitated, watching her mother sit up on the headboard, and wondered if this was some kind of trap. But the ache in her heart outweighed those thoughts and she slowly stepped toward the bed.

Lydia shifted over onto the side of the bed her husband used to sleep on and allowed Bianca refuge beneath the blanket. Her arms wrapped around her daughter's shoulders, drawing the girl closer. With everything going on, she neglected the one person who needed her the most.

The two remained in silence for a few beats, only broken by the younger girl's occasional sniffles. Lydia knew, that if it weren't for the alcohol wafting off of her pajamas, Bianca wouldn't be here at all.

"Today was hard," Lydia acknowledged, nodding to herself.

"Hm?" Bianca leaned her head against the woman's shoulder.

"Watching Mike and Anna," She needed her daughter to know she wasn't alone in her feelings.

"I'm sorry," Bianca began immediately.

"Don't be sorry," She shook her head. "Your father and I got married so young. And we were so naive. We wouldn't have made it to fifteen anyway. Besides, that man... He wasn't the one I married."

Bianca pursed her lips, "Did you cry for him?"

"No," Lydia let out a sigh. "The man I loved died years ago. I cried when I mourned the death of my marriage but I'm through shedding tears for him."

Bianca stared at a loose thread in the comforter, her chest tight, "Do you hate me?" She tried to keep her voice steady but it broke anyway.

Lydia's eyebrows drew together, "Hate you? Is that what you think I've been doing?"

Bianca shrugged a shoulder, "I mean... I'm the reason he's dead."

"Baby, I could never hate you," Lydia's tone turned stern, forcing the girl to glance up at her. "I- I just needed a second to process everything and- and figure out how to get you out of this mess."

"But how can you forgive me?" Bianca inhaled sharply, squeezing her eyes shut. She thought she was all out of tears, "After what I did-"

"Because I spoke to Ward and he apologized for Rafe's part in it all... You have to understand, it wasn't your fault, Bianca," Lydia tightened her arms around the girl. "Okay? Ward, he gave me the CCTV footage, the only copy-"

"You watched it?" Bianca's eyes widened.

"No, I destroyed it but even so, I didn't need to. Do you know why?" Her stare was sharp. It left no room for argument, "Because I know you. And I know you would never do something like that on purpose or- or unless you had to."