CHAPTER 10: FAMILY TIES AND FRAYED EDGES

Emily woke up feeling groggy and a tad confused. As her vision adjusted to her surroundings, she blinked at the ceiling, once, twice, and again as her body began feeling more familiar. She gripped the fabric of her bedsheets and released it, wiggling her toes, seemingly re-familiarizing herself with the soft fabric and basic mechanics simultaneously. She remembered doing something like this just a few weeks ago, or was it months?

“Ugh—did I oversleep again?” she thought, as a subtle sense of disorientation settled in. With a yawn, she stretched her arms, feeling every muscle in her body awaken. A faint breeze from the window carried the soft scent of leaves and fresh air into the room, soothing her nerves. “Gosh, that feels nice but why am I tired!” she mused thoughtfully.

Outside, birds chirped cheerfully, their morning songs filtering through the window and making her smile despite the haze in her mind. “It feels like… weeks… I really need to get to bed on time…” she muttered, rubbing her eyes.

Slowly, she sat up, staring at the golden sunlight streaming into her window, casting warm rays across her bed. The day outside looked perfect—not too hot, not too cold—just right for an autumn morning. Her memories seemed to blur and shift, as her mind instinctively tried to grasp onto something concrete. She frowned as she recalled the last few days—everything seemed to slip away just a little as she attempted to focus on it.

“What was I doing again…” she thought with a frown, glancing at her toys and trinkets, as snippets of memories flickered—Sarah laughing with her, Thomas making pancakes, the frustration of brushing her hair, meeting Lucy and Lily. The memories felt distant in some ways yet familiar—almost as if someone else had experienced them for her.

She shook her head as the fragment of a name seemed to float by—“Daniel.”

“Daniel?” she thought, her brow furrowing slightly. “Why does that name sound so… familiar?” A part of her remembered a figure, perhaps in her dreams, like a shadow that had been there. She felt a brief, strange pull at the name—something that tugged at her heart for a fleeting moment before vanishing. Perhaps she had met this individual at school?

Her stomach growled, grounding her back into the present. “I’m hungry; feels like I haven’t eaten in days,” she muttered, leaping out of bed. "Maybe Dad made something other than pancakes..."

She paused for a moment, puzzled. Where had that thought come from? She loved her father’s pancakes—why did she suddenly feel the need for more substance in her diet? Something tugged at her mind, a conversation about needing protein, fruit, a promise to be healthier…

Emily gazed outside the window again as she tried to process everything in her still-groggy mind. The past few weeks felt clear but also distant. She knew what had happened, could recall the events clearly, but there was a separation to them—as though watching them from a distance rather than living them.

“Eh, I just overslept… a lot… Mom’s probably mad at me for sleeping in again.” She dismissed the haze of confusion with a shrug, deciding not to dwell on it. Her head still felt foggy, but the warmth of the room, the aroma of freshly made breakfast drifting up from downstairs making her salivate . She stretched, letting out a deep sigh, feeling more like herself with each passing second, the occasional thoughts about "Daniel" rapidly fading into the background.

“Oh yeah, my cousins are coming today, right? Better get ready!” She perked up at the thought. No more time for weird dreams or overthinking things.

As she bounded downstairs, the memories of her strange awakening faded further. The day ahead held the promise of family and fun—enough to distract her from whatever dreams or strange thoughts had danced through her mind the night before.

—

The guests arrived as Emily watched wide-eyed from the living room window. She had vague recollections of meeting these relatives when she was much younger, though the memories felt distant, like trying to gaze through a fogged window. "Feels like I'm meeting them for the first time," she thought, excitement and nervousness bubbling up inside her at the prospect of reconnecting with her uncle and cousins.

Sarah’s brother, Uncle Jack, stepped out of the car, his features bearing an oddly striking resemblance to Sarah's, as his two sons emerged behind him. Emily chuckled softly for one moment - her mother devolved into what must have been a childhood dynamic, as she squealed and hugged Uncle Jack, trying and miserably failing to lift him in the air. Then came the sight of Michael, her eldest cousin, clearly in his late teens, on the verge of adulthood. He greeted his aunt and uncle with a polite, restrained but affectionate greeting that caught Emily by surprise. Emily was initially surprised by the air of responsibility that Michael imbued.

In the next moment however, she felt a brief pang of sadness - as a part of her unexpectedly recognized a familiarity in his demeanor - the weight of someone who had been forced to grow up too fast. The feeling stirred something deep inside Emily, a whisper from somewhere beyond her reach, but she quickly brushed it aside.

Next, a younger boy hopped out of the car, his movements hurried, his face fixed in an expression of impatience. "That must be Alex," Emily thought, straining to remember his name. It had been so long since she last saw her cousins, and the years had blurred some of those early memories. "I hope we can get along," she mused, eager for a chance to bond with someone closer to her age. But her optimism was tinged with caution—something about Alex's restless energy made her wary, and she couldn’t quite shake the sense that this meeting might be a bit more strained than she had initially hoped.

"It’s been too long, Sis," Jack said as he followed Sarah and Thomas inside their home, evidently exhausted after his trip. Michael followed, offering polite greetings again with a gentle smile at Emily while carrying both his and his younger brother's bags. Meanwhile, Alex darted past without much of a greeting, sparing an ambiguous glance at Emily.

Emily noticed that Michael and Alex’s mom didn’t appear to have joined the trip. Try as she might, she couldn’t quite remember who she was or even what she looked like. A faint, brief sense of embarrassment bubbled up—should she know? Or had they never met? Brushing the thought aside, she refocused on the excitement of getting to know her cousins again.

–-

During lunch, Emily quietly observed the family dynamics. Michael mentioned his upcoming college plans, which earned nods of approval and smiles from the adults. Alex, however, seemed oddly restless, his comments often edged with sharpness and thinly-veiled antagonism, especially when directed at Michael. Uncle Jack, engrossed in conversation with Sarah and her husband, seemed oblivious to Alex’s periodic remarks.

A flicker of irritation sparked within Emily, sharper than she expected. It was more than just mild annoyance; it felt deeper, almost like an instinct to defend. Something about the way Alex’s words cut into Michael—especially his casual cruelty—struck her in a place she didn’t fully recognize. For a brief moment, the urge to push back, to defend, rose within her. It felt…familiar, but foreign at the same time, a kind of heat that didn’t entirely feel like her own.

After lunch, the children were left to their own devices. Hoping to connect with her cousins, Emily suggested they play an old version of Street Fighter. She hadn’t played much before, but it seemed like a good way to bond. However, it wasn’t long before Alex’s competitive nature became clear. His remarks shifted from playful to pointed.

“You’re pretty slow, aren’t you? Can’t keep up, can you?” he sneered after winning another round, spamming combo moves Emily had no chance of countering.

A small knot tightened in Emily’s chest, an uncomfortable heat rising in the back of her mind. It was a familiar feeling, a tension she hadn’t felt in a while. Something stirred—an urge to push back, to snap at him, to defend herself. It wasn’t just her usual irritation; it felt sharper, like there was someone else’s fierceness behind it that she couldn’t quite place.

She paused the game, trying to keep her voice steady although all every part of her being wanted to lash out with a few choice curses she wasn’t aware she knew. “That’s not a nice thing to say, Alex. Can we play without being mean?”

Alex scoffed, rolling his eyes. “Whatever, I was just joking. You’re too sensitive.”

Her fists clenched almost instinctively, the anger bubbling just beneath the surface. It wasn’t just her frustration; it was something deeper, something protective, almost like a voice at the edge of her consciousness urging her to stand her ground. She didn’t want to just let this slight go, but she couldn’t fully understand why it bothered her this much.

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Before she could respond, Michael stepped in sternly, taking on a much more severe demeanor. “Alex, knock it off. Apologize to Emily - NOW!”

Alex muttered a half-hearted apology, but the tension lingered. Emily felt that heat still simmering inside her—a quiet flame that didn’t die down right away. She wasn’t used to feeling this strongly about something like this, but the intensity was there, just beneath the surface.

Overwhelmed by the mix of emotions, Emily retreated to her room, needing space to process the unexpected storm that had welled up inside her.

—

Later that evening, Emily sat in her room, attempting to make sense of the torrent of emotions pouring through her—anger, hurt, and sadness. She felt a strange push and pull within her, as though part of her was at war with the other. She was furious with Alex, frustrated with the situation, and a small voice within her was angry at herself for not being able to push back harder. And yet, another, softer sensation pulsed from deep within—like a quiet reassurance that she had done enough. It told her she had stood her ground, that she was enough.

Her thoughts were interrupted by the soft creak of the door. Emily looked up to see her mother cautiously entering the room, concern written across her face. Sarah approached and sat beside her on the bed. "Is everything okay?" she asked gently, sensing her daughter’s distress.

Emily hesitated for a moment, feeling the weight of her emotions bubbling up again. She was reluctant to make a mountain out of a molehill, but there was something—a voice, almost like a quiet nudge—urging her to let it out, to share the burden instead of holding it in. With a sigh, she opened up about her altercation with Alex, his behavior, her response, and the confusing swirl of emotions that followed. As she spoke, her voice wavered, and tears welled up in her eyes. She felt her mother wrap her in a comforting embrace, and that familiar, protective cocoon made it feel just a little safer to let the tears fall.

“I’m sorry,” Emily sniffled, wiping her face with the sleeve of her shirt. “I don’t mean to make such a big deal. I don’t want to ruin the visit…”

Sarah shook her head, holding her tighter. “Sweetie, you’re not ruining anything. Don’t think that for a second.” She gently wiped Emily’s tears away with her own sleeve. “It’s important to stand up for yourself, and I’m proud of you for doing that.”

Emily blinked through her tears, surprised. “I did?” she asked, unsure of herself.

Sarah nodded, offering a warm smile. “Yes, you did. Standing up for yourself doesn’t always mean fighting or shouting. Sometimes it’s just telling someone they hurt you.” Emily absorbed this, feeling the truth of her mother’s words. The message resonated deep inside her, as though it was meant not just for her but for something deeper, something older.

Sarah continued, her voice soothing. “Let’s talk to Uncle Jack together. It’s important that Alex understands the impact of his words.”

Though still hesitant, Emily nodded, appreciating her mother’s support. There was a lingering fear of stirring up more tension, but Sarah’s calmness gave her strength.

Together, Emily and Sarah spoke to Uncle Jack about what had happened. As Emily explained, her voice wavered now and then, her emotions threatening to overwhelm her, but Jack listened closely. Emily expected him to brush off her concerns with a casual "boys will be boys" or some other dismissal. But instead, her uncle didn’t make excuses—he nodded, understanding the weight of her feelings.

“I’m really sorry, kiddo,” Uncle Jack said, his voice genuine and apologetic. “I appreciate you coming to me about this. I’ll have a talk with Alex tonight. This isn’t right, and he needs to learn respect.”

Emily blinked in surprise, stunned by the supportive response. Her fears melted away, replaced by a sense of relief. She felt that gentle, quiet pulse again within her, like a part of her had been braced for something worse but was now gratified.

Jack then took Alex aside for a private talk. Though muffled, Emily could hear the low tones of her uncle’s stern voice followed by Alex’s quiet, reluctant responses. A few minutes later, Alex reappeared, his face downcast, avoiding eye contact with Emily.

“I’m sorry, Emily,” Alex mumbled, clearly embarrassed. “I shouldn’t have made fun of you like that.”

Emily was caught off guard. For a brief second, she felt a spark of sarcastic retort well up within her, a flash of fiery words she didn’t even realize she had. But she took a deep breath, choosing instead to meet Alex’s awkward apology with grace. “Thank you, Alex. Apology accepted,” she said simply, offering a small, tentative smile.

—

The next day, Michael took Emily and Alex for ice cream. "It’ll be fun, and I think we could all use a treat," he said suggested with a knowing smile.

As they meandered to the ice cream shop, Michael shared stories from their childhood, subtly trying to bridge the gap between his brother and Emily. Emily learned that Michael and Alex's mother had left when Alex was very young. They didn’t know why or where she had gone, but their dad had been their rock. "I hope I can meet her again one day," Michael said with a sad smile. "I don’t hate her, but I just want to know why she left. Why did she never reach out to us." Alex's expression turned grim, his teeth clenched in frustration—an unconscious behavior Emily was surprised to realize - she for some reason, recognized? Almost as if some part of her had sometime or somewhere displayed similar body language? She shook her head unable to recollect such a time, unsnure of where this memory had come from. Instead, a wave of empathy surged through Emily, realizing the depth of trauma Alex must have experienced from his mother's disappearance. ‘No wonder he's so angry; he's been dealing with his own wounds,’ she mused sadly.

At the ice cream shop, the mood lightened as they chose their favorite flavors. Alex seemed sheepish about his behavior, and though he didn’t apologize again, his softer demeanor spoke volumes. Sensing his embarrassment, Emily chose not to press the previous night’s issue, appreciating his effort to maintain the peace. When Alex met her gaze during their conversation, she offered him a warm, reassuring smile, non-verbally communicating that she bore no ill will. In response, Alex returned a small, awkward grin, signaling a step toward reconciliation.

Meanwhile Michael shared more about his hopes and dreams for the future and anecdotes from his and Alex’s past. Emily found his gentle demeanor and understanding nature rather comforting. She felt a connection igniting as she realized that in this moment - Michael was the elder sibling that she had never had.

–

The next day, Michael took Emily and Alex for ice cream. “It’ll be fun, and I think we could all use a treat,” he said, his voice light, but a knowing smile and gleam in his eyes suggesting an attempt to address the tension that had simmered the night before.

The day was warm but not oppressive, a soft breeze cutting through the heat as they walked along the tree-lined street toward the ice cream shop. Emily felt the some tension of the previous day still lingering at the edges of her thoughts, though Michael’s gentle presence made the silence between them comfortable, not awkward.

As they meandered to the ice cream shop, Michael started sharing stories from their childhood, and Emily listened, intrigued. Michael’s tone was casual, but the intent was clear—he was trying to bridge the gap, to smooth over the rift between his brother and Emily. “Alex was always the little troublemaker,” Michael said with a grin, glancing over at his brother, who in turn quietly rolled his eyes.

Then Michael’s tone shifted, growing more reflective. “Mom left when Alex was really young,” he began, his voice soft but steady, as if telling this story was both familiar and painful.

Emily noticed Alex stiffening at the mention, his jaw tightening as he stared at the ground.

“We don’t really know why… or where she went. She just… left. Dad stepped up, but… well, some things just don’t heal all the way” Michael continued sadly, gently ruffling Alex’s hair almost as if subconsciously trying to soothe him.

There was a pause as the air between them grew heavier. Michael’s expression turned wistful, his eyes distant. “Personally…I don’t hate her,” he said with a sad smile. “I just… I want to know why she left, why she never reached out. Was it something we did?” His words hung in the air, and for a moment, the weight of his unresolved pain was palpable.

Emily stole a glance at Alex, whose expression had darkened further. His teeth were clenched, his fists stuffed in his pockets. That body language—it was something Emily couldn’t shake the feeling she recognized. There was something so familiar about the frustration, the tension Alex carried with him. A flash of a memory, unplaceable, flickered across her mind—a man’s body tight with anger, a jaw tight with unspoken words—but the moment passed too quickly for her to grasp.

She shook her head slightly, instinctively trying to clear away the fog brought by those fleeting impressions. Instead, a wave of empathy surged through her—understanding, not just intellectually but deeply, what it meant to carry wounds that ran deeper than others could see.

“No wonder he’s so angry,” she thought, her heart aching for Alex in a way she hadn’t anticipated. “He’s been carrying this hurt for so long.”

At the ice cream shop, the mood lightened as they chose their favorite flavors. Emily took in the sweet, cool smell of freshly scooped ice cream in the brightly lit shop. The simple joy of picking ice cream flavors acted as a bridge - a balm - helping melt the tension between the cousins. Emily picked chocolate…naturally.

Alex, though he didn’t apologize again, but his demeanor had softened more, his defensiveness replaced by something quieter, almost apologetic. Sensing his embarrassment, Emily chose not to press the issue. Instead, when their eyes met during the conversation, she offered him a warm, reassuring smile—letting him know that all was forgiven. It was a small gesture, but it felt significant. Alex returned a small, awkward grin in response, signaling that maybe, just maybe, they were taking a small step toward reconciliation.

Meanwhile, Michael continued sharing stories. His anecdotes ranged from the silly pranks they used to pull on their dad, to his dreams for the future—going to college, joining the ROTC, traveling the world, maybe becoming a teacher one day? Emily found herself drawn to his gentle demeanor, his quiet strength. She admired the way Michael seemed to balance it all—his own dreams, his unspoken grief, and the care he had for his younger brother. There was a steadiness about him that Emily found comforting, like he’d learned how to carry the weight without letting it break him.

For the first time in a while, Emily felt truly at ease. The shadow and tension of the previous day seemed to dissipate with each lick or bite of ice cream, and for a moment, the three of them sat there, three kids - sharing stories and laughter as if nothing had ever been wrong. The bonds built that day, the quiet healing between them, would last a lifetime, carrying Emily through not just the rest of the trip but every family moment yet to come.