𝐃𝐎𝐍𝐎𝐕𝐀𝐍

𝐓𝐖𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐘-𝐄𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓

It's late morning when Katherine wakes up. She doesn't have any missed calls or texts—except Sophia.

She felt the baby move.

As Katherine took her time getting dressed, she called Sophia and heard everything that's happened in the past couple of days.

"So what's gonna happen with him anyway?" Katherine asks, pulling a baby pink ribbed camisole over her head. She's wearing black jeans and black flat ankle boots—not the ones she usually wears. These have a rubber sole entirely. "I mean, is he gonna be a 'Rowe' or 'Flanders'?"

"Rowe," Sophia scoffs. Katherine chuckles, pulling a few cardigans from her bag. While in New Haven, she and Sophia shopped around for a wardrobe revamp. The pink top is a newer article. Katherine holds up a camel-colored blazer, stares at it for a moment, and nods, dropping it back onto her bed. "Nah...he'll be a Flanders. I just don't know what to call him."

"Well do you have any idea?" Katherine asks, folding the other garments back into her bag.

"No," Sophia sighs. "I mean...I'm spitballing. I still have what, three months?"

Katherine laughs. "You really procrastinate everything, don't you? Telling your best friend she's gonna be an aunt—"

"Okay, are you really holding that against me?!"

"No," Katherine chuckles. "I'm just teasing you, Sophia."

"Well, I was thinking of calling him 'Kit.' You know, like I used to call you before we got an apartment."

"Too weird."

"Yeeaaahh," Sophia sighs. "Blake?"

Katherine tilts her head to the side. "Not horrible." She undoes her hair from its braid and does it all over again in two rows. Sophia is still prattling off names when there's a knock at the door.

It's Dean.

He hesitates, glancing over Katherine with a bit of anxiousness in his eyes, his gestures, the way his weight tilts him forward a bit. Then he glances at the phone in her hand. "Hang on, Soph," she says, then presses the phone into her shirt. The chill of the morning air makes her reconsider the blazer. "Are you okay?" Katherine quietly asks, cautiously glancing over him. Her palms are suddenly slick with nerves, because Dean is never awkward.

But you made him like this yesterday. Ten points to KD.

"Yeah," Dean says, nodding. He sounds relatively normal. "Uh...Cassie called. She said there was another accident. It's her boss, Jimmy Anderson."

After a moment, Katherine blinks, bringing her out of her little blame-fest, then nods. "Sophia, I really hate to do this to you, but...can I call you back?"

"Oh, yeah! I'm probably stealing you from those beautiful brothers, aren't I? Have fun!"

Katherine rolls her eyes and snaps her phone shut. "You can ride with us," Dean says, moving back for his room. "No sense in wasting gas."

Sam and Dean talk to the mayor while Katherine analyzes the crash site, hands tucked into her trench coat pockets.

"There's one set of tire tracks," the mayor said. "One. It doesn't point to foul play."

Cassie raised hell. "Mayor, the police and townspeople take their cues from you. If you're indifferent about what's—"

"Indifferent?" The old man grunted.

"Would you close the road if the victims were white?" She asked, crossing her arms.

"You're suggesting I'm racist, Cassie? I'm the last person you should talk to like that."