chapter thirty
the butterfly effect
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Like a butterfly that beats its wings in one corner of the globe and with that single minuscule action changes the weather halfway across the world, Izzy knew the power of a single decision.
She'd made a decision back there at the dock. She made the decision to give up her name, everything. And she didn't regret it one bit.
That decision had led her here—Charleston.
It had been months now. Months since she said goodbye to John B. Months since Shoupe and who knew how many other cops had led them to a large tent where they were forced to wait for their parents' arrivals while the storm that had slowly been accumulating throughout the day ragged on. Months since Izzy Windsor had begun to wonder just how much hope she could hold on to.
None of them had been charged for anything for helping John B escape, which should've put Izzy at ease, but it had only made her more anxious. She still remembered the fear splitting through her the moment she had been informed that Sarah Cameron had found her way onto the boat along with John B. Sarah had followed him out there.
It had been months since then. Months since Izzy realized two of her friends had both been caught in the storm that raged that very night.
Izzy remembered she had tried to ground herself to reality but she kept on thinking of different scenarios, wondering what would become of her friends. Death seeped back in, tainting her hope.
Death always had a way of doing that.
It still did.
Even months later.
Because death . . . death had revisited her that night as well.
It had been months.
Yes, months.
Months since the storm swallowed John B and Sarah. Months since they had been heard from. Months since they were pronounced dead. Months since Izzy felt death seep back into her life all over again.
But . . .
. . . things had been different that time around. Izzy was different.
. . .
It happened so fast.
The mourning hit her first, forcing her to nearly isolate herself from everyone and everything. But she wouldn't let herself this time. This time she had been there. She had been . . . present . . . for JJ . . . for Kiara and Pope . . . for herself.
But wounds from the past kept opening, and Izzy kept putting salt in them over and over and over again. Until . . . alone in her house without her father in sight (she supposed he fucked off during the storm and hadn't contacted her since . . . Figures), she received a call.
Almost like some fucked up saving grace, her phone rang with an unknown number flashing across the screen. And something in her whispered for her to answer it. Normally, she wouldn't. Normally, she never would've even thought of it. But something . . . something nudged her in the right direction.
And she answered the call.
Izzy remembered it so clearly now. It was almost funny.
She'd picked up the phone all timid, and on the other end, a woman's voice came through. It wasn't until the third question that the woman revealed herself.
Inez Davenport, she'd finally introduced herself, her voice almost too similar to Izzy's mom's. She called with a message, one Izzy had never expected. Her voice was calm and smooth like honey as she informed the young blonde that she'd seen her on the news, and she just couldn't explain it . . . something in her told her to give her a call.
It was all history from there. Izzy couldn't recall the memories now, she just knew one second she was in Figure Eight, then the next she was finally out.
Inez Davenport, her aunt, had offered to house her for the rest of the summer and see how'd she liked it in Charleston, South Carolina. And if she did, she was more than welcome to stay.
It almost seemed too good to be true. It almost felt like it couldn't be hers.
But it was.
Izzy knew her aunt meant it. She could hear it in the way she talked about Izzy's late mother. She could hear the regret, the guilt, the longing. She could hear how deeply she wanted to give Izzy the shot her mother never had.
And Izzy, well, she was at a crossroads.
On one hand, if she took up the offer, she'd be leaving her friends behind. She'd be leaving JJ behind. But if she stayed . . .
. . . if she stayed she knew she'd lose herself again.
The Outer Banks brought out the worst in her. And losing Sarah, losing John B . . . Izzy knew who she'd become.
Izzy knew she had to leave. She had to choose herself this time. And she did.
Now . . . don't go thinking everything went to shit in the OBX. No, no, she and JJ agreed to see each other on weekends. They'd alternate, of course. She'd see Kiara and Pope too, and everything . . . everything would be okay. Izzy would be okay.
But . . .
It wasn't until the day she left, her hand on the back door to her aunt's car as she waved her friends goodbye, that she knew she would truly be okay. Teary-eyed and red-nosed, Izzy almost couldn't climb in the car and leave them like that—all standing in a row, the three of them looking at her with an odd sense of pride and sadness.
And then . . . out of the corner of her eye, she caught sight of a blue butterfly landing on the hood of the car. It fluttered its wings for only a second, and then it was gone. But that was enough.
Izzy had felt her heart warm, the anxiety raging through her suddenly subsiding. She'd be okay. They all would.
And finally, with that, she blew her friends one final kiss before she slid into the backseat, greeting her aunt with a wide smile, and shut the door. They were off, leading Izzy down a new path in an instant.
As they drove, Izzy watched the Outer Banks slowly disappear from her sight. She would be okay.
Finally, Izzy had smiled.
She would be okay.
She was okay.
She still was.
The butterfly had been right.
And truly, as they say, like a butterfly that beats its wings in one corner of the globe and with that single minuscule action changes the weather halfway across the world, Izzy would like to believe that the something which pushed her to answer the phone, that something that told her Aunt Inez to give her a call . . . that was her mother.
She would like to believe, even now, her mother wanted her to live . . . to hope . . . and she was willing to give her daughter every chance at that. Izzy would like to believe that. And she really did.
The little blue butterfly fluttered its wings as it flew farther and farther into the distance only confirming her thoughts. Izzy was right where she needed to be, and things that were meant to happen, would.
Izzy still had that hope.
Hope that John B and Sarah were alright. Hope that they all would be. Hope that she could still hope.
And finally . . . that made her feel at peace.
With all her ghosts and lost dreams, she finally chose something for herself. For once, she chose to hope; to hold onto it no matter the cost. She chose to believe everything would be okay in the end.
And truly, Izzy, no longer a Windsor, knew despite it all, she'd be okay.
a/n: to be honest, i had an entirely different ending planned with angst but i don't have the heart or energy to even entertain it, so i've decided to end it here with the addition of the epilogue next. so just the epilogue next and it ties into what happens here which is why i wanted to release them together!! spoiler: jizzy does get a happy ending of course. it wouldn't make sense for them to not!
also in this universe, John b and Sarah aren't found until months later, so let's just separate the show from this fic. Hehe
thank you for reading!