pushes through it.
“No.”
“What?” he hisses, pulling the leather out of the buckle.
“You will not touch me ever again,” she declares clearly and slowly.
He grabs her wrist and holds it up in exhibition. “The hell I won’t! You are my daughter, and you need discipline!”
“No!” She yanks her arm out of his grip. “If you ever raise a finger to me in anger again, I will go to every news station in the state with my justified claims of child abuse.”
His eyes widen as if she just slapped him. “No one would believe you. You have no proof.”
“As if the scars, welts and bruises aren’t enough proof, it won’t matter if they believe me or not.” She flares a daring brow. “The story itself will be a scandal. You would be ruined.”
The first spark of fear she’s ever seen from her father flashes in his gray eyes, and his complexion pales slightly.
He swallows and takes a step backward, giving her space to move freely. She takes it and walks past him without looking back.
Elation bubbles through Cassandra’s chest. She actually stood up to her father! Somehow, this feels like an even bigger victory than saving the planet from a deadly asteroid.
That’s two epics wins for the day.
Now time for a well-deserved hot shower to celebrate!
Cassandra walks into the diner, the bright sunlight flooding in behind her.
It’s a beautiful day! The sun is shining, the streets are quiet and clear—if a little scattered with trash and broken glass here and there. For the most part, the day feels…normal. Like the world didn’t almost end yesterday.
“There she is!” Jareth calls from a booth.
Veronica hops to her feet, looking at Cassandra with school girl crush eyes. Cassandra raises a curious brow as she joins them.
“Omigod!” Veronica squeals, throwing her arms exuberantly around Cassandra. “Did you really blow it up?” she asks in a strained whisper.
Cassandra looks around before answering, then says with a proud nod, “You bet I did.”
There’s another squeal as they sit down. Veronica hunches over the table and continues to whisper. “Oh man, I wish I could have seen you in action! Jareth says you were amazing! Like Wonder Woman.”
“If Wonder Woman were a walking flamethrower,” Jareth adds with a wink.
“Wonder Woman wishes she was as awesome as me.” Cassandra intentionally flips her hair back.
They share a laugh.
Cassandra is loving the accolades. She’s never felt better. Jareth and Veronica seem lighter, too. In fact, even the staff behind the counter are dancing to the crackly music of a small old radio. It’s the buoyancy of knowing you’ve just been given another chance at life after coming so close to death.
“Good morning, guys.” Cassandra turns in time to see Brielle lowering into the booth next to her.
The three of them return her greeting. Brielle is wearing a smile, but Cassandra can tell it’s only skin deep. It’s almost like there’s a cloud over her head, shading her from the beauty of this bright new day that’s affecting everyone else.
“Is everything okay?” Cassandra asks, hushing her voice slightly.
Brielle shrugs. “It will be.” Then she picks up a menu and holds it in front of her face. Before the laminated paper covers her, Cassandra catches the glint of a hovering tear.
Cassandra has no idea what happened between Brielle and Tristan after they left the room. When she and Jareth had come down from the roof, neither love bird was in sight. And Cassandra didn’t want to pry with invasive text messages, no matter how much she wanted to know if the two made amends. Judging by Brielle’s somber semblance, probably not.
Stupid Tristan.
Where is he, by the way? Cassandra looks around. He should have come with Jareth.
“When’s Tristan gonna get here?” she asks Jareth.
Jareth eyes flick to Brielle’s menu and back to Cassandra. “He’s…tied up with something this morning, so he’s not coming.”
Cassandra sighs and shakes her head slightly. Yep. Stupid Tristan.
“Not coming to our victory meal?” Veronica scoffs. “What’s more important than this right now?”
Jareth just shrugs dismissively, and Cassandra wonders if Veronica will see through his façade.
“Oh, look, look! It’s on the news!” squeals one of the girls behind the counter.
“I told you it wasn’t fake!” says the Hispanic male server to the others.
Their commotion has the four of them looking at the TV in the corner. Even Brielle looks over her menu.
Then drops it.
As if in a chorus, the four of them gasp.
“Oh. My. God!” Veronica breathes.
“This can’t be happening,” Jareth says with his hand over his mouth.
On the screen is shaking