Chloe is threatened with suspension but manages to talk her way out of it. Instead, Collins dishes out an entire week of detention after I decline her offer of pressing charges. I see no good coming from getting the police involved. I don't feel like having to sit in a room with Detective Saunders–potential killer–and pissing Chloe off even more seems unproductive.

In situations such as these, I must play my cards right. Consider each move. After all, Chloe is one of our four suspects. She may be dangerous.

"Did you graffiti my locker?" I ask, once Collins dismisses us with the stern instruction to wait outside for our parents.

"No. I have better things to do than obsess over you," she retorts.

I almost laugh. "Tell that to my black eye."

"Helena?"

Mom comes rushing over, assessing my injuries with a frown on her face. She's concerned but the emotion soon turns to anger once she sees Chloe bruise-free.

"It's not often I interfere in my daughter's affairs but touch my baby again and I'll be forced to intervene."

Chloe shrinks down in her seat, intimidated. Scared. "She thinks I killed Sienna."

"And these bruises only aid in her argument," she defends, pointing to my split lip.

Once again, Chloe cowers away.

"Where's your mother?"

"Paris."

Mom falters. "Your dad?

"I'm here," states an authoritative voice, forcing Mom to turn around.

Her eyes land on Mr Peters' handsome face, softening immediately. His dirt-blonde locks appear neatly trimmed, not a hair out of place and although creased, he models a designer suit.

"Perrie?" he gasps, the smallest of smiles pulling at his lips.

"Jason?"

What the fuck?

The two are in a dream-like trance, unable to look away. To speak. It's an odd exchange. So much so, Chloe and I momentarily set aside our differences to share a look. To mutually concern ourselves over what ever the hell this is.

"Mom?"

She snaps out of it, moving closer to Jason. "Your daughter attacked mine."

Jason's gaze briefly moves to mine before finally settling on Chloe's. "Baby, did you?"

Chloe nods.

"Why?"

"She thinks I murdered Sienna."

Ironically, I didn't until today.

"That's quite the accusation, Helena," he states.

Wait!

"How d'ya know my name?" I ask, stepping forward.

His honeyed eyes meet mine in a moment of panic. Of uncertainty.

"Jason and I go way back, Lena," offers Mom, avoiding his gaze.

He looks to her as though locked in a memory. A memory only she would know about.

"Can we just go?" asks Chloe, approaching her father.

"Not until you apologise."

She scoffs. "Apologise? She accused me of murdering someone!"

"Have I ever said that?" I snap. "I simply asked you some questions. The fact that you made that assumption leads me to question your involvement."

"There you go again! Accusing me. Get it into your stupid head, Helena. I. Did. Not. Kill. Sienna!"

"Enough!" orders Jason, halting us both. "This behaviour is childish and needs to stop now."

I immediately shut up, feeling reprimanded. Like this dude is my dad or something.

"If you two can't sort this out peacefully, I'm sure Perrie and I can arrange play dates. What d'ya think, JellyBean?"

Did he just call my mom JellyBean?

She smirks. "I'm think that's a wonderful idea."

"Fine, whatever," says Chloe. "Helena, I'm sorry."

I quirk a brow. "Because that was sincere."

"Your turn, Lena."

Huh?

"My turn, what?"

"Apologise to Chloe for unfairly accusing her of murder."

I can't believe this!

"I'm sorry."

Mom and Jason smile, deeming their interference a job well done with regards to parenting.

"Can we go now? I need to ice my injuries."

Mom nods. "Yes."

She gestures for me to move first, stopping once Jason opens his mouth. "It was nice seeing you again, Perrie."

"You too."

Once at the car, Mom helps in before seeing to herself.

"You okay?" she asks, facing me.

"I'll live."

She frowns, "Look, Lena, I can't force you to do anything. You're eighteen now. An adult. But if this is getting too much, I'd rather you stop."

"You mean the investigation?"

She nods.

"Mom, I cant. The police aren't doing anything. In fact, we suspect one of them is involved. If we stop now, we'll never learn the truth."

"But at what cost?" she questions, gesturing towards my face.

I simply shrug.

"I know you want to help people," she continues. "But can't you find other ways? Ways that aren't dangerous."

"It's too late, Mom. We're doing it this way. Me, Elliot, Shaun and Jasmine."

She looks skyward and sighs. "Why did I have to raise two strong-willed children?"

I laugh. "Exactly! It's your own fault when you think about it."

She smirks, suddenly cutting her gaze across to Chloe and Jason entering his Range Rover.

"How do you know him?" I ask,

"I don't. Not really."

Huh?

"You said you went way back," I say.

She stops what she's doing to fiddle with her car keys. "Okay, fine. We went to high school together."

"Did you date?"

She shakes her head. "No. Not exactly."

"What does that mean?"

Once again, she looks across to the man in question. "I was in love with him our junior year but he was with Chloe's Mom."

Holy shit!

"And in our senior year, he was in love with me but I was with your dad."

I say nothing, processing her revelation. "Do you regret choosing the wrong guy?"

"I didn't choose the wrong guy," she insists. "Without Dan, I wouldn't have you and Shaun."

I smile. "Okay, but Shaun and I aside, do you wish you picked Jason?"

She sighs. "Maybe?"

We're consumed by silence, both of us too lost in thought to respond. I had no idea this side of Mom existed. That she once loved another man who wasn't Dad.

"Can we order pizza for dinner?" I ask.

"Why? Do I look like I need my sorrows drowning in carbs?"

I smirk. "Kinda."

She laughs and drives off, towards Southfield.

Towards pizza.

****

Pizza turns out to be a great idea. Not only because it means we don't have to cook, but because Shaun received his acceptance letter from UCLA.

"I can't believe it. My babies are flying the nest."

Shaun and I share a smile.

"I don't know how I'll cope without you two."

"You could try dating again?" I suggest, chewing on a piece of pepperoni. "Jason Peters might be up for it."

"Chloe's Dad?" asks Shaun, mildly intrigued.

I nod. "Mom's hot for him."

"I am not hot for him! We just have history, that's all."

I wiggle my eyebrows. "Hot history."

She all but throws a chicken nugget at my head, narrowly avoiding my black eye.

"Are you trying to kill me?"

"I'm trying to shut you up!"

Shaun laughs. "We could always talk about Helena's love life instead. She's boning Elliot Evens."

Oh my God!

"I'm not boning anyone!"

He chuckles. "I know."

"You do?"

"Yeah," he insists. "I asked him when you were speaking with Collins."

"You didn't scare him off, did you?"

"No. I did tell him about your toenail collection though."

I throw a cushion at his head. "Asshole!"

"He seemed to dig it. Maybe he has one too."

I crack up, thoroughly amused by the thought. By a young Elliot being just as strange as young Helena.

"So, what's the plan moving forward?" asks Mom.

Shaun and I both quirk a brow.

"What?" she defends. "If you're adamant in doing this, I want to be a part of it. I want to protect you."

"You mean you want to spy on us," accuses Shaun, smirking.

"Is that such a bad thing?"

I reply. "No. In fact, maybe you could do more than just spy on us."

"Oh, yeah? Have you for a job for me, Detective Gallagher?"

She carries on eating her pizza, half expecting me to say no.

"Yes."

"What!?"

"Rachel Wilson. She goes to your yoga class, right?"

"Yeah, so?"

"She's a suspect. Could you maybe talk to her? See if she says anything strange."

"Why is she a suspect?" she asks, glancing to Shaun.

He quickly catches her up on all things Sienna/ affair related, sparing no detail. "In short, he's a lying, cheating bastard."

"Which reminds me," she says. "You both need to call Dad."

I choke on my water, caught mid-laugh. "Mom! That was savage!"

She blushes. "I didn't mean to compare him to your father."

"Why not? asks Shaun. "He is those things."

"True or not, he's still your dad. He'll want to know about college."

We both nod and agree to joint FaceTime him at a later date. Perhaps when my bruises fade? Because, while dad is a lying, cheating bastard, he still cares. Still worries. And what's the point in burdening him with this? He can't be here to protect me. He can't soothe my aching limbs with a gentle caress.

Mom can.

And Mom will.

Mom always does.

****

Jason Peters is the one that got away...

Don't ya just love those stories?

Also, on a scale of one to ten, how likely does Elliot have a toenail collection? ;)