❝family (pronounced ˈfamɪli or fam-il-ee), noun
undefined.❞
The woman shook her head, though she kept staring. "No. Not your mother."
A ripple of disbelief ran through him. "What?! You have to be! You have to be my mother!"
"I'm not," said the woman softly. "My name is Maria. Your mother, Charlotte... was my twin." She gazed at him. "You are Phoenix, aren't you?"
He nodded slowly. "Where's my mother? Where's my father? I was told they would be here."
"Come inside," said Maria quietly. "You may want to sit down. Would you like some tea?"
"No, I'm fine, thanks." He didn't sit down at the couch. "So... you're my-"
"Auntie Maria, yes."
"Auntie Maria." He looked at her. "So... was it you or was it my mother who dropped me off at the house I live in now?"
"It was me."
"Why?"
She simply gazed at him. "Your face is like your father's," she observed quietly. "But the shape of your face, and your eyes... just like mine. Just like Charlie's."
"What do you know?" he asked. "Tell me."
"Would you... would you like a cup of tea?"
He stared at her, and nodded slightly, sitting down. There was no use being impolite- maybe he wouldn't learn anything that way. He was so close... he'd finally get to meet his mother. Surely, surely he was close now.
"How do you like it?"
"Black, one sugar," responded Phoenix. He looked around at the photos on the walls. There were very little- they all seemed to be photos of landscapes and nature, but none of herself or her family. Ruscoe, M. Maria Ruscoe. But why did his mother's sister have his father's surname?
She handed him a mug, and he took a sip. The tea was too strong, but he kept drinking it anyway, then put the mug down. "Where are my parents? Why did you drop me off at Hunter's house?"
Maria looked very tired for a moment, then said, "Phoenix, I'm so sorry."
"Why? Why are you sorry?"
"Your parents. They... they're not here anymore."
Phoenix's throat closed up. "What do you mean? Where are they?"
He knew the answer. He knew it before she even told him.
"They're dead, Phoenix."
"You're lying."
"No."
His chest felt like it was being squeezed, and he couldn't see straight. "Y-You're lying."
"Please breathe. Let me explain."
"To Hell with your explanation."
"Listen to me, Phoenix."
He couldn't see her. He couldn't feel anything. He had been so ready to meet his parents, so ready to hug Charlie and catch up on all the lost years. He had been so ready to ask Martin when he had started painting, and everything about him.
But they were gone.
"What happened?" snarled Phoenix, with previously unimaginable hostility. "Tell me!"
A nagging voice in the back of his mind told him to wait. Chances were, this woman had nothing to do with their deaths. This woman was innocent.
But Phoenix had studied enough people on his trips to the park. The lack of eye-contact, the shaking hands, the fidgeting... this woman was guilty of something.
Maria took a deep breath, steadying herself. "I married a man who was heavily into drugs and gambling. I didn't know it at the time. But he got into shady deals trying to earn us money. Deals that got him into debt. They threatened to hurt me, and I left him. I wasn't about to let myself get hurt."
"Then what?"
"I had nowhere to go, but Charlie and Martin, they took me in. Gave me a home, food, and of course, they gave me you."
"What?"
"You were born just a few months after I began living with them. They named you Phoenix for the place your mother and your father met, and Xavier was your grandfather's name. I couldn't have children, so you were the most priceless treasure I could ever have. You were the sweetest little boy. Your eyes always shone, and you smiled at everything. When your parents were too busy to take care of you, I'd look after you. I'd play games with you and cook for you and rock you until you fell asleep."
Phoenix could almost imagine it. A fire crackling in the lonely fireplace across the room, Charlie and Martin sitting together and drinking hot cocoa while Maria cooed at a tiny baby with pale skin but otherwise dark features.
"Everything was perfect for a little while. But then it all went wrong."
"Wrong how?"
"They found me. The people who my husband was in debt to. I was in the kitchen when I heard a gunshot and a scream. It was... Charlie. They thought that she was me. We looked so alike... we looked too alike. Even our dear old mother mixed us up a few times. Only Martin knew exactly how to tell us apart. By the time I had gone upstairs to hide, to warn Martin, she was dead. He had been in the middle of tucking you in, and he was... he was angry.
"Martin was always a calm man, but realising that Charlie was dead unleashed something inside him. He hid you in a closet. Told you not to say a word to anyone and that Daddy would be back soon. The men made their way up the stairs, and they found him. Martin didn't have anything but a broomstick. He fought off a good three of them, but they had guns. I heard them shoot him."
Phoenix was dead silent, his face not betraying a flicker of emotion. It was like he had shut down completely. He remembered something Hunter had told him, seemingly eons ago. "You didn't talk at all for the first day."
"They left. They thought they had gotten everyone in he house. They thought I had been seeing another man already, so by killing Charlie and Martin, they thought their jobs were done. I was left behind. And so were you. You were silent. You didn't say a word to me, no matter how much I tried to talk to you. You were always such a good child. So obedient. The moment Martin told you not to speak, you didn't.
"I couldn't keep looking after you. If they came back, if they killed you, I'd never forgive myself. So I went to a friend of mine, an undertaker, who laid their bodies to rest side by side, and I went to Nashville with you. I left you with a household that I knew would be able to provide for you, and then I came back here."
He felt cold all over. "You didn't change your name to Ruscoe?"
"No. This house is still under Martin's name. I take care of it. I live here. The men after my husband's money killed him a few years ago now. I'm safe here, I know that."
He looked up. "So it was your fault. You came here and then you hid yourself instead of handing yourself over after they killed my mother. You were the person that destroyed my family."
She looked shaken. "I... No, Phoenix, I didn't mean-"
Phoenix looked numb. "Where are their photo albums? Their wedding album? Diaries, journals, anything?"
"I have all of them. They're in a box, and so are a lot of old home videos. I transferred everything from their computers onto two USB's."
"Give me them. All of them. Then tell me where their graves are."
"I'm sorry, Phoenix-"
"Don't apologise to me. If you respect them, then you'll never think to contact me after today."
Maria looked heartbroken, but nodded.
"I hope they haunt you."
"They do. Every day. Not a day goes by where-"
"I don't need you to preach your innocence to me, Maria. Give me everything that's left of them, then I'm leaving this place."
"Alright. I'm-"
"Apologise to me one more time, I dare you," he said, his voice calm and even.
She didn't.
Phoenix took the box that she had given him back to the bus, and Elle opened the door. "What's this?" she asked, peering into the box.
Swallowing down the lump in his throat, he handed her a slip of paper. "Give this to Hunter."
"What is it?"
"An address."
"What are the coordinates meant to be?"
He couldn't look at her. "Grave plots."
<><><><><><><><>
Martin James Ruscoe
04.16.1990 - 12.25.2021
Artist, husband, father
"Not all those who wander are lost."
Charlotte Jasmine Ruscoe
08.19.1999 - 12.25.2021
Scientist, wife, mother
"The only thing we have to fear is fear itself."
He stared at the two graves blankly, and Elle put a hand on his shoulder. "Are you okay?"
"What do you think?" he asked hollowly.
Elle didn't say anything in response to that, and looked back at the gravestones. "They look like they were happy," she said softly, looking at the photo that adorned both graves. It was Charlie and Martin, with a little boy in between them. Their eyes were shining happily, and Phoenix was happy, too.
Maybe once upon a time, this could have been his reality. Maybe he could have had a perfect life, if Maria wasn't in the picture. Maybe he could have stayed in Memphis, gone to school, lived in that giant house and had a fireplace every night.
But maybe it was fate, too. Fate that he would end up with Hunter and Ryan, fate that he would be the second child in a family of seven, and that he would meet Ebony, whoever or whatever she really was. Fate that he would end up owning Nita, his only real friend. She sniffed at the graves now, before nudging her head under Phoenix's arm. She seemed to understand that he was extremely emotionally unstable.
Pa touched his shoulder, and Phoenix looked up. He was holding a bunch of flowers. White carnations. He took them silently, before placing them on their graves.
"Phoenix," said Pa softly. "We're so, so sorry."
He shook his head. "Family is overrated," he heard himself saying in a distant, faraway voice. "Let's go."
Elle wrapped her thin arm around his shoulders, and Nita nudged her nose into his side. Slowly, quietly, they made their way back to the bus.
<><><><><><><><>
A few hours later, they were close to home. Elle had received a call from the DNA clinic, which had confirmed what she had known all along; Julia Bolton was not her mother. Though disappointed, she knew that much already.
The bus had stopped near a cafe, and Elle went to Phoenix's bunk. He hadn't come out since they had left Memphis. "Hey, are you hungry?"
He made no response.
"Nick, I know you're hurting," she said. "Just tell me if you want something to eat. You don't have to come into the cafe if you don't want."
Slowly, he opened the curtain of his bunk, and Elle inhaled sharply. His eyes were swollen and red, his nose running and his cheeks damp with tears. "Oh, darling," she said softly, and went into the living room area, grabbing a tissue for him and wiping his face gently. "I'm so sorry."
He sniffled. "I'll just have a tea or something."
"Alright. Flavoured?"
"Chamomile." He sighed. "I want to sleep and I can't close my eyes. It might help."
"Alright. Try and rest. You've had a long day."
"Yep." He turned away to hide the newly formed tears in his eyes. "Bye."
"Bye." She kissed his head, and left through the front of the bus. Hunter was waiting for her.
They were both silent as they made their way into the little cafe. Hunter seemed deep in thought, while Elle ordered them a vanilla latte and hot chocolate.
"So this is it?"
"Seems like it."
"So it has to be Cassiopeia."
"Exactly."
Hunter shook his head. "If I had had any idea about Nick's family..."
"I know," said Elle softly. "He grew up too fast today."
"Exactly."
The waitress bringing them their coffees suddenly paused. "Hold on. Elle?"
Elle glanced up, and recognised the waitress. "Cassie! Hey, how are you?"
"I'm really good! Fancy seeing you here, eh?"
"It's good to see you here! Oh, Pa, I never introduced you. Cassie, this is my dad, Hunter. Pa, this is..." she faltered, looking at the expression on his face.
He looked like he had been shaken up quite horribly. His eyes were wide, and he stared at Cassie like she was a ghost. "Pa?"
It took him another moment, but he came back to his senses. "Forgive me," he said, sounding unsteady. "It's a pleasure to meet you."
"And you, sir. Everything alright?"
"Fine, I'm fine. Thank you for the coffees."
"No problem! Call me over if you need anything!" She smiled, and Hunter looked like he was about to faint.
"Pa, what the hell-"
"How do you know her?" he asked. He sounded like he had just had a sudden realisation, and it worried her immensely.
"She's Lola's cousin," she said cautiously. "She visited me in the hospital."
"Lola's surname is Edwards, isn't it?"
"Yeah?"
"I can't believe this. Do you know why she's here?"
"Pa, you're not making sen-"
"Answer me, Elle!"
She stared. "She's here from Europe. Visiting."
"Elle, do you know what Cassie is short for?"
"I dunno, Cassandra? What the hell are you asking me this for?!"
"Cassiopeia Edwards-Lovelace, living in Europe, with red hair and a perfect mix of myself and Lilly!"
Elle froze. "What?"
"It's her," he whispered. "I know it, I just know it. She moves exactly like Lilly. Her voice is the same. Her eyes are blue-grey, and her hair is reddish blonde. Cassiopeia was Lilly's favourite constellation- I can't believe this."
"She laughs like you," said Elle softly, realising suddenly why she had seemed so strangely familiar in the hospital that day. "Stands like you, too."
Hunter looked pale. "We have to ask her," he said. "We have to ask what her full name is."
Elle raised her hand as though to get the cheque for their drinks, and Cassie came back over. "So... Cassie, huh?" she said, trying not to let her voice shake. "Is that short for Cassandra?"
She chuckled, and Elle marvelled at how she hadn't noticed it before- all her mannerisms were just like Hunter's. She clasped her hands together in front of her, and Elle noticed how her hands were right over left- the exact reason that she had debunked Eva as a possible daughter. "Not at all. My parents were pretty weird with their naming. They really liked mythology."
"What is your name, then?" asked Hunter, trembling.
"Cassiopeia Lovelace." She smiled a half smile, tilting up on the left the same way Hunter's did. "What can I do you for?"
*A/N: and that marks the end of book four! it's gone all over the place and it's lost a lot of it's quality, not gonna lie, but i'll (hopefully) bring it back in the next book.
the next book is called 'take a walk', and it'll be updated with the first chapter on february the 14th (ryan's birthday). i'll talk to you all soon, feel free to ask any questions about the story that haven't been clarified or whatever, and i'll see you on the flipside.
with love,
nethii <3*