I barged into Michelle's bedroom, furious. She clearly made Cynthia more upset, and I have had it. I wasn't going to let her make an already shitty situation worse. But to my surprise, she wasn't there.

She had a small office space next to her bedroom where she'd tend to spend late nights working in- although I never knew what she was ever doing. So, I checked there, and found her sitting at a desk, her chin resting in her palms and a wine glass. Bonnie was painting something on a canvas in the corner, sharing a glass with her.

Michelle whipped her head around as I entered the room, rolling her eyes. "What do you want?"

"What's your problem, Michelle? Seriously."

"What are you talking about?"

"Don't play dumb with me. Why did you talk to Cynthia the way you did?"

She rubbed her forehead, turning herself to face me. "Maybe because she went behind my back and met up with a boy, and I'm guessing you initiated it?"

"So what?"

"You're a bad influence on her, teaching my daughter to be a little lying slut just like you used to be. I know you, Lucille."

I was completely taken back by that comment. She's no stranger to making snarky remarks about me, but being called a slut was a new one. And a bad influence? Does she ever think before she speaks?

"What the hell do you mean I'm a bad influence? I'm sorry you can't handle your daughter growing up, but you can't just keep her under your control forever."

"I know my daughter best," She hissed, "I don't need you to be her mother."

"DO you, Michelle? Do you? Because I doubt you even know what really happened tonight. It's YOUR fault, YOU ruined her night."

"Oh really, did I? How?"

"You framed your daughter for your own horrendous acts, and she had to pay the price for it tonight. Her date dumped her because of what YOU made her out to be. Does that sound very caring to you?"

She paused, leaning back in her chair. I could tell she was uncomfortable, she always is when I bring up the truth. She can't handle it.

"What do you want from me, then?" She replied, lowering her voice.

"I don't know, Mich, I really don't. What do you think?"

A sigh escaped from under her breath. "I'll apologize to her tomorrow. I'm going to bed."

She slammed her hands on the desk as she stood up, exiting the room and leaving me alone- well, not completely alone. Bonnie set down the paintbrush and hopped up on the desk.

I glared at her. "You. She mentioned you as well. You spied on her?"

"Only because Michelle wanted me to. I thought it was strange as well."

"Then why did you agree to it?"

She shrugged, taking a sip out of the glass. "Don't know. She made me a deal."

"You just do anything she tells you to do, don't you? You're just like her. You know, she only caters to you because you remind her of her dead daughter, you know that?"

"And she only puts up with you because you tend to her. She doesn't give a shit about you."

Now, I've known Michelle since I was ten years old. I know deep down she cares about me. I can't stand her sometimes, but truthfully I grew up with her and I've known her for too long for me to not also care about her as well. Things have been rough between us lately, but I wasn't going to let this random woman who thinks she knows her tell me anything otherwise.

"And you think she gives a shit about you? Get a life, she's not yours, stop following her every demand like a puppy."

"What if I don't? What will you do about it?"

"I'll make your life a living hell, that's what I'll do. Keep following her orders and making it everybody else's problem, see what happens."

She grinned, taking another final sip from her glass. "You think I can't make your life a living hell too, Williams? Let's see who can do it first, make it a game."

"Please," I scoffed, "I'd love to see your puny little self attempt to even make a dent in my life."

"Then I guess my puny little self is just going to have to find a way, hm? Goodnight, Williams." She twisted back around, hopping off the desk and making her way back to her canvas.

I headed back to my bedroom, now slightly concerned that she may not be kidding about her threat. I mean, I hate her guts and she hates mine, but I'm not entirely sure how much she actually hates me. I just hope that she doesn't actually do anything, although I doubt she will.

◆          ◆

Oh, that Lucille, she has no idea what she just got herself into. I'll make sure that she regrets every remark she's ever made about me, every nasty look, everything. She thinks I'm stupid, but I take challenges like these very seriously.

I just have to think about how I can go through with this. Something that will make her life a "living hell" ... Oh, I think I have just the idea.

She leaves notes out for Michelle frequently, usually little reminders. Well, if it's one thing I know I can do well, it's forging. I collected a few of the notes, as well as a blank paper and pen, and got to work.

I'll leave this little love note somewhere Rosemary will find it later tonight, whenever they fall asleep. She'll be dying to read this special little letter.