It was the first time in her life that she had stayed out all night, only to come home late the next day. True, she had essentially been kidnapped by an emotionally unstable teenage girl, but Jane was choosing to look on the bright side.

It seemed kissing Ryder had that effect on her.

Keys in lock, jacket unzipped, she stepped into the familiar hallway of her home. She sighed with relief, the exhaustion welling up within her bones. All she desired was to go to bed. It appeared her mother had other plans, however.

She leaned against the entryway of the kitchen, the corner of her lip raised. “Look what the cat dragged in.”

“Ugh, mom,” Jane groaned, “nobody says that anymore.”

Her mom’s face broke into a grin. “So, gonna tell me where you’ve been? Hm?”

Jane gingerly lowered her bags, both the IMSI catcher and her laptop. She was racking her brains for something, anything that would constitute a credible excuse for being out all night. Luckily, her mother did it for her.

“It was that boy you’ve been seeing, huh?” she asked.

Jane’s cheeks colored. “Mom! It’s not like that…”

Her mother grinned again. “Oh, don’t worry, I was like that too at your age. All boys, boys, boys.”

Right. Boys. Not slowly dismantling a criminal organization. Jane dearly wished she were a normal girl.

“Okay, you got me,” Jane lied. She just wanted to go to bed.

Her mother sobered up somewhat. “Just promise me you’re being careful, Jane. You know how wrong things can go.”

“Right… like why we had to move here.” Jane couldn’t help it. A tinge of self-hatred filled her voice. Guilt at its purest form.

She just could not stop poking her nose where it didn’t belong. They’d paid for it twice-over, before. This time, she was determined not to repeat history.

“But, baby, that was in the past. You’re better now!” Her mother came closer, taking her hand. “You don’t do any of that anymore, right? You’re a good girl now.”

The guilt reared its head within Jane. She couldn’t bear to look her mother in the eyes. She didn’t want to face her own emotions. Reflexively, she lashed out. “You’re telling me to leave it in the past?”

Her mother’s expression froze for a moment, half-way between shock and hurt.

Jane’s face flushed again, though this time it had nothing to do with embarrassment. She marveled at her own ability to always say the wrong thing. “Sorry… I’m just tired. I’m gonna go to bed.”

She slipped her hands out from her mother’s grasp, and attempted to side-step her.

“Wait,” her mother said, “come to the kitchen with me. I want to show you something.”

Jane glanced back, curiosity momentarily overpowering her tiredness. “What is it?”

Her mother didn’t respond, instead beckoning her from the kitchen doorway. Curiously, Jane followed.

The floor was as clean as she had ever seen it, the ever-present alcohol stains between the tiles had been scrubbed off, leaving only white porcelain beneath. On the table, a small army of empty liquor bottles stood, glass twinkling beneath the aged kitchen lights.

“You didn’t drink all that, did you?” Jane turned back to her mother, who was still in the doorway.

She laughed. “No. I poured it out. I’m trying to change. From today on wards, I’m getting sober!”

Her tone was cheerful, yet belied a decisiveness that she had been missing since Jane’s dad was gone. To Jane, it sounded anything but.

“Okay, mom…” Jane said, disbelief tangible in her voice. She pursed her lips, and once again, tried to sidle past her mother, unwilling to argue.

“Jane!” her mother’s voice was definitely hurt now. “I thought you’d support me, of all people.”

The exhaustion gave way to the bitter resentment Jane had held inside for so long. A frustration that had been building since coming to Alexander township. “Support what, mom? Do you think quitting now is gonna make up for a year of cleaning up your vomit?!”

Jane realized she was shouting far too late, and her voice echoed through the kitchen, rattling the bottles. Her mother was silent now, tears in her eyes.

Jane wanted to speak up, to apologize again, or maybe even explain herself, but found that the words would not come. She’d shocked the both of them into silence.

Good job, Jane, you may have ended your mom’s sobriety before it even began.

But her mother spoke up, wiping tears from her cheeks. “No, you’re right. It… I can’t make up for everything I’ve put you through, since your father passed. There’s nothing I can do to fix what’s already happened.”

“Mom-”

Her mother spoke over her. “I’m not asking you to forgive me, Jane. I just want you to know that I’m sorry.”

And now it was Jane with tears in her eyes. The two were looking at each other, half way through the narrow doorway, eyes wet and red.

“Mom, can we talk please about this later? I’m just… really tired,” Jane said, looking away to hide her tears.

She couldn’t do this. Not right now, not with so much else to think about. Her tightly-wound relationship with her mother had to wait, no matter how painful it was to let it hang like this.

Her mother opened her mouth several times, as if trying to give shape to the words she wanted to say. In the end, the older Mackenzie sighed and stepped aside, allowing Jane to leave.

“Just know I’m proud of you, baby,” her mother said as Jane was half-way to her room.

The door was a comforting hardness against her back as she collapsed against it. Jane’s chest was as tense as it had ever been, heavy with the emotion of the situation mere moments ago. It felt as if her skin were compressing her lungs. She struggled to breathe.

At her feet, the teddy bear sat, lying on its side.

“You’re lucky you don’t have a mom,” Jane whispered to it, bitterly.

The turmoil within her was moving at incredible speeds, and she could not bring herself to try and identify what exactly she was feeling at the moment. All she knew was that she was exhausted. Exhausted and confused and on the brink of screaming.

Luckily, she had the foresight to grab her bags before heading to her bedroom. Slowly, she slid down the length of the door, the bags pooling at either side of her. The IMSI catcher rattled as it fell to the floor. Her laptop found its usual spot on her lap, the screen glowing.

But Jane could not focus on it, for perhaps the first time in her life. The screen provided no escape from her horrid cycle of thoughts, each leading into the next like a torturous stream within her mind.

What did her mother want from her? To tell her it was okay? To say that failing her daughter at a time when she needed her the most was no big deal? To-

Jane shook her head, as if to dislodge them, desiring nothing more than to rest.

Like she said, she would deal with it later. She was so tired. Her vision was practically blurring with exhaustion. All she needed was just a moment to close her eyes, to wait for Ryder’s return, to plan their next move.

Just a moment.