Hey guys,

Thank you for being patient. 

Without further adieu, I present to you...

D A Y  7 | *trigger warning. mentions of r*pe and s*xual ass*ult*

lola berkshire

The wind blew into our room, sifting through the thick drapes that hung loosely over our window. Notes of evergreen, spring water, rocks, lavender, and sage could be picked up. The moon was bright enough for me to gaze around the room.

Miles had his arms wrapped around me tightly. He had no intentions of letting me go.

And I needed to pee.

We were wrapped in a sherpa blanket that rested over our torsos. It wasn't that cold for the blankets to cover our bodies completely. 

Miles' warm breath brushed against my neck and his soft snoring was something I could never get used to. The boys in my life never snored. I never had a problem with sleeping with my brothers in the room. 

All of this was hard to wrap my head around. We resided in Mancos, Colorado. A safe haven for witches and wizards. The majority of the people here were in their early 20's to late 30's. Witches and wizards had no place to go. 

It was like a village. A small remote village that consisted of small and cozy shacks. Humble abodes. There was a Food Hall that served breakfast, lunch, and dinner at all times. An activity hall sat in the center of the village. It was specifically for the children who would come, but there were none in sight.

One day away from home and I think I'm doing fine. I'm not afraid of Miles like I thought I'd be. To tell the truth, I had a realization that Miles actually cared about my well-being. It could all just be some sort of façade, but I wouldn't find out until later on.

In fact, I've had a few regrets about writing in my note for my family to find me. 

Maybe I don't want to be found. Maybe I want to remain in Colorado for a while until I'm ready to come back. Maybe I just want to stay here. 

"Are you alright?" Miles interrupted my train of thought. I turn my head to face him. His green eyes manage to reflect off from the moon's light. Normally, a captive person shouldn't feel safe when looking in their captor's eyes.

But to me, it's different. 

"Mhm," I mumble along with shaking my head.

"We won't be here for that long," he said. "I don't know how long we'll be here for, but we won't stay for that long. I don't know when it's safe to go back."

"I understand," I replied. Miles pulled me closer to his body. Our legs overlapped and his cotton pajamas rubbed against my bare legs. "Could you tell me more about yourself? Your true self."

He softly chuckled and nuzzled himself into my neck. "Of course," he smiled. His fingers ran through my hair while telling me about his childhood. His real childhood. He went on about the Rosier bloodline, as well as explaining his estranged family. 

Miles brought shame to the Rosier name when he was expelled from Durmstrang. His grandparents refused to fund him to go to any other school even after his father suggested that he attend Hogwarts.

His wealth declined when his father met Minnette Farrell, a muggle with a muggle-born daughter. She knew about the riches of the wizards in the wizarding world. She was well aware. In fact, she was blessed for having a muggle-born witch. Minnette saw Eleanor as her cash-pig. 

Miles grew up in Scotland. He was the next heir to the Rosier Manor, but with his shame brought to the family, his child would be the heir to the Manor. 

In this case, it would be my child. Eleanor Farrell knew exactly what she was doing, as Miles said. Claim Rosier Manor. Claim Berkshire kin. 

And so I asked him what her motives really were. Why was she driven to commit such acts? To go so far as forcefully impregnate herself as well as impregnate me?

It was a Farrell thing, he said. Back in the muggle world, Farrells were damn near empty pocketed. It's almost like it was coded in her genetics. Strange thing to say, but it was close to the truth. 

"The Rosier name wasn't enough for your step-mother?" I asked.

"No, I mean—It was. It was," he blabbered, "Until it wasn't. Within a matter of a year, our riches went down the drain. It was 'remodel this' and 'fund Eleanor's this' and 'buy us this'. A lot of unnecessary shit. It drove my father and I insane, but my father loved Minnette too much."

"Did you love Eleanor, Miles?"

He choked up. He looked at me with uncertainty, as if that question made him uncomfortable. "I...did. Yes."

We lingered in silence for a moment. The question didn't sit right in either of our stomachs. So, with the conniving self that I am, I asked another question related to her. 

"What kind of love was it, Miles?"

"Lola—"

"You don't have to answer that if you don't want to—"

"Lola, I—"

"But I would really like it if you were honest with me, given that you apparated me across the world just because of her—"

"Lola, what Eleanor and I had was not good. In fact, I don't even think it was anything. You can't put a label on...that. I—" Miles unwinded himself from me and placed both his arms behind his head. He sighed as he looked up at the ceiling. I placed my head on his chest as I heard his heartbeat beat irregularly. "Have you ever been pressured into doing something you weren't really into?"

"Who hasn't," I replied.

"Right," he said, "Well, it was something like that. We were both 14 years old when she approached me with the question of 'have you ever had sex?'. I was astounded. By far. I've never had sex in my life, at the time. I wasn't sure if that was something you were allowed to talk about with your step-sister..."

narrator's pov | flashback

"A little kissing won't hurt," the black-bobbed girl whispered, "I won't tell our parents. I promise."

"I—I don't think that's right—"

"Oh, come on," she groaned. "It's not like we're actually siblings. Plus, our parents aren't even married! Come on. Have you ever kissed anyone before? It could be fun if you let me, Miles."

"Um—I—Um, you know what? I think it'd be best if you went back to your room, Eleanor—"

"Miles!" she shouts, "Why can't you just bloody kiss me? Do you want me to hex you? Or how about an Unforgivable Curse, like Avada Kedavra?"

With her loud voice, Miles jumped out of fright. His eyes widened at the hostility and he nervously pulled his blanket up to his chest.

"Elean—or. We—You should go back to your room."

She rolled her eyes and dramatically got up from her bed. Eleanor stormed towards his door, but before leaving she turned her head to Miles. 

"I'll be back here tomorrow night. And you better be ready to kiss me, Miles. I think we've got potential. Together, we'll be the wealthiest pair in the wizarding world, do you hear me? Sure, my mum's got the Rosier name by marriage before me, but I'll be next."

She swung his door open, stormed out, and slammed his door closed. 

The pressure was unreal. Miles was never exposed to such a nature before. It was overwhelming for 14-year old Miles Rosier. So he laid down, pulled the covers over his head, turned over, and wept to sleep. The pressure was unreal, but he didn't want to be hexed. He refused to die. He wants to live his life. Move to America and live.

He refused to be killed by Eleanor Farrell. 

end of flashback | lola berkshire

"...and it all started from there. At first, I was pressured into kissing her. Then it was performing oral sex. Then, it went to—" Miles scrunched his eyes closed and huffed. "It went to sex. I hated every moment of it. Every moment of it until I—didn't. Until I didn't. She made me feel like no one was going to love me as she did. She made me feel like she was the only one who knew me, and who saw me for me. Eleanor practically made me 'fall in love'. If that's even fucking love."

I didn't know how else to respond. I felt sorry for him. I hugged him tighter and planted a gentle kiss on his bare chest. 

"I'm sorry you went through that, Miles," I mumbled quietly. "No one should ever have to go through that. If my family ever went through that, I would've completely lost it."

"Lola," he said. "I think—your brother. I think your brother was raped by her."

zeno berkshire

"Is she alright?" I asked Scarlett and Narsa. They both shook their heads.

"She's been cooped up in her room the whole day," Narsa answered. "Are you sure you want to tell her today?"

"Is that even up for debate, Nar?" I huffed. "She, of all people, deserves an explanation. My father has already told your fucking family my business. I think it's best if I tell her now. Today."

"We just don't want you reliving through the moments as you explain yourself to her," Scarlett advised. "You didn't deserve any of that, Zeno. I hope you know that."

"I know, Scar," I fiddled with my rings, "I'm just going to have to continue reliving through the moments until I come to terms with it. Mel needs to know what happened. My father dropped a fucking bomb on her yesterday. Totally uncalled for. I haven't forgiven him about it, either."

"I wouldn't forgive him either," Narsa added. "That was not his story to tell. Plus, he didn't even know what actually happened."

Oliver came back to the dining table with a kettle of tea and two teacups held by his fingers. He placed them down in between us all and took a seat right next to me. "Your dad and my dad got into a fight this morning. Crazy to say this, but my dad took quite the beating," Oliver blurted. "Mum and he aren't on good terms either."

"Good!" Narsa addressed. "If dad kept a secret like that, I would definitely not be on good terms with him, either!"

"But you guys don't get it," I interrupted. "I told Uncle not to tell anyone. Luckily, he kept his word. It was a serious problem. I refused to let anyone know but him."

"But it's that serious. Serious enough for your own father to be aware of. My mum also," Scarlett responded. "Try looking at it through their perspective, maybe?"

I rolled my eyes. "Or maybe try to look at it through mine? I got a person pregnant at 15! I'm not going to tell my fucking dad that! That means I'd have to tell him about the raping, too! With Uncle Draco, I knew he wouldn't ask many questions. He'd just look at it like irresponsibility, which is something I was willing to risk."

The room went silent. Oliver pushed the kettle towards his sisters. Narsa picked up the kettle and poured tea into her cup. She blew on it until it cooled down. 

"I could kill her if you want me to," Scarlett blurted. "I really could—ooooh—I really could! With my bare hands and my wand combined! I hate her! She's a few minutes away, I could do it—"

"Uncle Enzo said we have to wait until we find Lola," Oliver interrupted. "Then we'll figure out what to do with her."

"Whatever it is, I'll handle it. I deserve to seek vengeance for myself. She took my purity and I'll take her fucking life."

"You're really going to risk jail time for that crazy fuck?" Oliver conferred. He rolled his eyes and shook his head and sighed.

"Do you guys plan on snitching?" I asked.

"No—"

"Then I don't see the issue."

"Umm? Her parents, maybe?" Narsa pointed out.

"What, are you going to kill Miles as well?" Scarlett queried.

I nodded. They all looked at me and sighed. "What's the fucking issue?" I snapped.

"You're being unrealistic," Scarlett murmured, "Your actions will have serious consequences, Zeno. I don't want you going to jail. I also know you're fully capable of...murdering... someone."

"Well, their actions will have consequences. It's their fate. You can't go wrong with fate," I replied.

"And your fate is jail time?" Oliver pestered.

"My fate is to seek vengeance for me and my family."

They sighed again. Silence lingered until I exhaled deeply and shot up from my seat.

"I'm going to Mel's house to talk," I blurted, "Don't wait up. Not sure how long this conversation will be."

"You sure she wants to talk to you?" Scarlett dictated. She brought her leg up on the chair and held it close to her chest. "Shouldn't you give her some space?"

"I've given her enough space," I made my way towards the door, "Amelie needs to know what happened between—her— and I. I mean, can you imagine how she's feeling after my fucking father dropped something like that on her?"

Before they could even respond, I swung the entrance door open and slammed it close. I stuck my hand in my pocket and pulled out the keys to the car. I unlocked the car while still by the porch. I practically sprinted towards the car because of how bloody cold it is. 

Driving down the still road going 90 miles only to get to Amelie's house in under 2 minutes never fails to amaze me. The power of fast cars feels like a bloody privilege. I should most definitely start being aware.

I pull into the Zabinis' driveway with such rush that I park the car in a slanted direction. I was too riled up to even care. Plus, it's not like anyone will be driving anywhere anytime soon. 

I make my way towards the porch and I immediately knock on the door. I knock a few more times until Onyx answers the door. 

"Zeno," she says. "Have you heard from Lola yet?"

I shook my head. "Not yet, but we aren't stopping," I replied. "But that's not why I'm here. I'm here to talk to Amelie."

Onyx's lips formed flat. "She's... not in the right mindset to be speaking to anyone right now."

"I—I have to talk to her about something. It's important, Onyx," I informed. "Could I talk to her please?"

Onyx bit the bottom of her lip as she looked right into my eyes. "She'd get mad at me if I let you up, Zeno. You know that, right?"

"I owe her an explanation, Onyx. I really want to fix this with her."

She sighed. Onyx gripped onto the door as she contemplated for a few moments. Then finally she stepped aside, gesturing that I walk in. I closed my eyes out of relief before walking inside. I stomped my feet out on the mat to rid the snow. 

I turn to Onyx as my lips curl. "Thank you for letting me talk to her, Onyx. It means a lot."

"If she wants you out, you leave. Do I make myself clear?"

"Yes, of course."

As Onyx closes the door, I make my way upstairs. Ascending the staircase and getting closer to her room, my heart nearly feels like it's skipping beats. How do I even approach her? What would I even say? Would she even listen?

Does she hate me?

Fuck, I'm already in front of her door. Do I knock? Barge in? Shit. Normally I'd barge in with a smile and a bag of snacks. But instead, I'd be walking in with a heavy secret that's been kept for years. 

Okay, I think the most rational decision to do is knock.

Or should I just barge in?

No, that's unacceptable. She'd get mad at me, and I can't afford for her to hate me more than she already does.

I'm assuming she hates me. I hate my father so much for what he told her without the full story.

If my father just kept his mouth shut, I wouldn't have to anticipate confrontation with Amelie like this.

Fucking imbecile.

Okay, I need to knock. I'll knock. 

I knock on her door with my finger knuckle as I wait for a response.

"I'm not hungry, Mum," she mumbles from the other side. 

I knock again. 

"I said I'm not hungry, mum. Please just leave me alone?"

Being the impatient, nervous little twat that I am, I knock again.

Finally, I hear stomping coming towards the door. I take a step back to avoid being screamed at. With a sudden movement, the door swings open aggressively as Mel stands in front of me. Her eyes meet with mine and at an instant, her pupils dilate.

I quickly notice how her curls are untreated and in knots. Her eyes are puffy, almost as if she's been crying for a while. I wouldn't blame her. She's wearing what appears to be her brother's clothes, and her scleras are nearly blood-shot red.

"Mel," I breathe.

"I want you to leave," she mutters under her breath while holding her tears in. Before she slams the door in front of me, I wedge my foot in and press my hand against the door.

"Amelie, please—I can explain."

"There's nothing to talk about, Xenophilius," she responds dully. 

"But there's a lot to explain, Amelie. Please, just—just hear me out? It's important—"

Amelie swings the door back open and crosses her arms. "Shouldn't you be looking for your sister? You shouldn't have to worry about me."

"Amelie, I can't just not worry about you. Not after the shit my father pulled—"

"Oh, you mean the part where he told me something that I probably was never going to hear from you?"

"I was going to tell you, Mel. I was. I just—I couldn't find the right time to. It was all in the past, and th-there's more to the story."

"It's pretty self-explanatory, Zeno. Let's layout the facts. You impregnated Eleanor Farrell and kept it a secret from me. As well as your whole bloody family!"

"See, that's the thing! I kept it from my whole fucking family, and yet they had it in their hearts to listen to what I had to say! So, why can't you do the same?"

A tear droplet finds its way down her melanin skin. She sucks in her cheeks and quickly turns away to avoid eye contact. At this point, my knees are getting weak at the sight of Amelie in pain.

"Because we're not—" she stammers.

"We're not what?"

"We're not—we're not family."

My mouth is ajar, yet nothing comes out. Amelie finally looks back and there are tears continuously streaming down.

"How could you—how could you say something like that? Of—of course we are, Amelie—"

"You don't understand, Zeno," Amelie exhales as she closes the door behind her. She presses her back against the door and knocks her head back. "We're not family. In fact, we're far from family."

My heart races. "Now, you don't mean that, Mel—"

"It's not something I'm supposed to mean. It's just facts. It's always been like that, Zeno. It just took my brother not being here for me to realize that I'm just the girl lodged between two families. No matter what happens, I'm always going to be treated differently. So, no, Zeno. I can't do the same. I can't do the same because we're not family."

I clench my fists, but not because I'm angry. 

I'm hurt. 

I love Amelie with every fiber in my body. My family takes her in like their own because, well, we're a fucking family! 

"We are family, Amelie," I assure her as I step closer. "We've always been family. Sure, we don't share the same blood, but blood doesn't make a fucking family!"

"Zeno—"

"No, listen to me!" I raise my voice. I place both my hands on the door at the sides of her with mere aggression as she slightly jolts. I practically have her cornered. I lean towards her face as our heads are nearly touching. "I love you. With every goddamn fiber in my body. If you—ever—say we're not family again, I'm going to need you to think again," I whisper in her ear. "I need you to reevaluate, Amelie. I also need you to fucking listen to my side of the story. You have every right to know what happened. You of all people, Mel. You of all people."

Pulling away from her head, I gaze straight at her and realize that she's nibbling the bottom of her lip nervously all while keeping the tears from falling. Amelie scrunched her eyes closed and sighed. She took her hands and pressed her palms against her eyes. I absently placed my hand on her waist and rubbed it gently to let her know that I'm here for her. 

All I'm asking is that she be there for me, too.

Dropping her hands to her sides, she turns around and opens the door. Stepping in, she signals that I follow by turning her head to me. I follow. I close the door behind me as she sits on the edge of her bed. 

I pull the chair from her desk and place it across her. Taking a seat, we both look at each other. I could tell she's examining me. Mel scoots herself into the bed and pulls her legs up to her chest. 

"Start talking," Mel says.

And so I started talking. 

I first told her about the whole situation, and how Eleanor Farrell relates to Lola's disappearance. I explain how she's related to Miles, and how Eleanor had a plan all along. Then, I told her what Eleanor's motives were. I informed Amelie about my relationship with Eleanor back in my fifth year. I told her about how, at first, things went well. 

"We had sex, yes. I lost my virginity to her. But the sex became more frequent to the point where sometimes I just wasn't... present," I continued. 

I mentioned about how many times she wanted to have sex. Despite me saying no, she'd want to have sex anyways. That's when I told Amelie about Eleanor raping me.

Multiple times.

"I didn't have the courage to push her off of me. Anytime it happened without my—without my consent, I'd be—she'd be—on top. And I'd just—I'd lay there. My—my body fucking betrayed me multiple times. Trying my best not to climax, and then I end up doing so because my body doesn't fucking know I hate it. And that went on for—for months."

I told her about Eleanor getting pregnant, and how badly I wanted her to get rid of it. 

"I had my uncle help me bribe Eleanor not to keep it. After lots of talking and bribery, she got rid of it. But I guess ever since then she's been trying to come back into our lives. Clearly, it's worked. My fucking sister is missing."

A moment of silence lingers as I try to think of what else to say. I've practically told her my deepest darkest secret that completely dehumanizes me. My chest feels heavy. And suddenly the tears come.

Have you ever wept quietly? Cried with no sound?

Amelie immediately jumps up from her bed and jolts towards me. She pulls me into an embrace, wrapping her arms around my neck as I wrap my arms around her waist. I wept onto her shirt. I gripped onto her for dear life. 

That was when my cries turned audible.

"Shh, Zeno," she runs her fingers through my hair while trying to shush me, but I just can't help it. "I'm sorry, Zeno. I'm so sorry that you went through that alone. I'm sorry. I really am. But—but you're here now. You're here. You're safe here, alright? She won't ever do that to you again. I—I will make sure of it. Hell, I'll kill her. You know I would—"

Pulling away from her shirt, I look up at her as she wipes my tears with her thumbs. "You don't see me any different?" I croaked.

She shakes her head. "Never in a million years, Zeno. Your past doesn't define you. It never will."

"I'm sorry for not telling you sooner, Mel—"

"Don't—. Don't apologize. I'm sorry for refusing to listen to you."

"You had your reasonings, Mel. I guess I had mine, too."

She pulled me into an embrace once more. My head pressed against her chest. My thigh was between her legs. Amelie kissed my forehead gently and repetitively as I wept. 

Your past doesn't define you. It never will.

***

I hate Eleanor Farrell with a passion.

D I S C U S S I O N

***