— RORI —

The day started off nicely.

I woke up having had a great night's sleep due to my brother's return. I reluctantly went to school (as i wanted to make sure Vinnie was taken care of) but was thankful to find some normality in it.

It was not until last night, Zephaniah declared he will be hosting another meeting, and, in this meeting, we will be given a verdict on who targeted our brothers.

For once, it looked like the adults had everything under control. They were much more engaged, like myself, and formally returned to their duties at work.

And so, today, things are much different. I walked around the place with purpose in my stride, i put lots of effort into each of my classes, and, at lunch, i sat with both Annalise and Mikey.

I could tell that my brothers had picked up on the fact i was in a good mood also, and so, subconsciously, they were a lot nicer to me throughout the day.

I'm still not in the good books of the youngest bunch, but it's fine because i haven't forgiven them yet either.

Teddy will be the hardest to forgive, given how he has treated me and continues to treat me.

It's odd because, by now, i should be way too used to the comments he makes to even let them affect me. I guess i'm just worried that his passive-aggressive attitude will turn into something so much worse.

It has, in the past. But we were younger then, and his behaviour was not recognised as abnormal because he was a child, mimicking what he had witnessed adults do.

I recall the time i broke my arm, after he pushed me off a tree while we were climbing it.

I was annoying him all day, and eventually he just snapped, but when i told the adults what happened, he claimed i had slipped.

We were five and seven then, and, at that point in my life, all i wanted was to be like my big brother.

I would follow him around everywhere, do anything he asked of me, but i noticed very quickly he didn't treat me the same way he treated Seamus and Quentin.

Teddy treated me like our father treated our mother; a waste of space unless needed for something.

He wasn't the only brother who segregated me as a child, but he is the only one who continues to do so.

Whether all of it is due to a hatred for women, i do not know. All i know is that he hates me. And he always will.

That's why i had previously asked Zephaniah if he could have a word with Teddy: he has the power to make a change in this house-hold, although it pains me to admit that.

But would my eldest brother even bother to stick up for me?

"No, Vinnie. Go back to bed this instant! You're not supposed to be galavanting around the house like this!" i scold my twenty-one year old brother, not for the first time today.

"Oh, really? And who gave you permission to boss me around like this?" he laughs, attempting to push past me.

I stand in the large doorway of his bedroom and try to block him in by spreading myself out like a Starfish. For some reason, he finds it to be quite amusing. If he wanted to, he could have easily gotten past me by now. However, all he does is laugh at me.

Even though my middle brother was gone for less than a week, i seem to have forgotten just how annoying he can be.

"Margaret, actually." i childishly poke my tongue out at him.

"Of course she put you up to this." he dramatically groans. "Why does that not surprise me?"

"I believe her exact words were: 'Doll, i'm countin' on you to make sure that brother of yours stays behavin'," i recite, in my best Southern accent.

"For crying out loud, Ria! I'm only going downstairs to get myself some Chicken noodle soup. S'not like i'm joining the army or something," he reasons with a stern voice, though still smiling.

"Army or not, you've got to stay in bed! I'll bring the soup up for you. Gosh, why do you have to be so stubborn, Vinnie?" i press, in an incredulous tone of voice, while pushing him further back into his room.

"Oh, yeah? You're one to talk. Remember that time we were wrestling and you were so opposed to tapping out, to the point where you literally blacked out?" he reminds me. "Or that time where you had food poisoning but still went to the thanksgiving day parade because they were handing out free pie?" he says, incredibly smug.

"We don't even celebrate thanksgiving," i point out.

"Exactly. You just went for the pie!"

"So did you?"

"Well, obviously...but did i have severe food poisoning at the time? No. No, i did not."

"I can—"

The two of us pause mid-conversation when we hear some ugly snort of laughter coming from behind us. My head immediately snaps towards the source, and, there, leaning against his bedroom door, is Uvaldo. He laughs even more when he locks eyes with me, and that's when i realise i am still standing in my Starfish position. Awkwardly, i shift my body until i am standing normally again.

"I see this one's back to being Miss Overprotective," Uvaldo knowingly teases.

"Shut up, Val." i playfully roll my eyes, the two of them ignoring me.

"Oh, was she quite so persistently annoying with you too?" Vinnie asks him, as i gape at the former in offence.

He was the one being annoying this whole time, not me...I swear!

"Yup. Although i don't doubt for a second she'll be worse now...What, with the state that you're in?" he smirks, glancing at our brother's dishevelled form.

"Mhm," Vinnie murmurs in agreement. "You see, i've been trying to leave my room for the past fifteen minutes now. Instead, our little resident nurse here has been on my case about what i can and can't do and where i can and can't go," he explains, Uvaldo giving him a look of mock sympathy.

"And it'll only get worse from here, onwards. Trust me." Uvaldo grins at the pained expression on his face. "Anyways, Rori, if you're that worried that something will happen, why don't you just let the guy go fetch his soup and you can go with him?" he suggests, and i reluctantly agree.

Of course, Vinnie then complains further by saying he is too old for a baby sitter and that he can handle being on his own for more than two seconds. I want to feel bad for him, but, at the same time, it is me and Uvaldo's duty, as his younger siblings, to make use of this wonderful opportunity.

Vinnie is for sure one of the most fun brothers to mess with. The fact he is so patient and equable makes it hard to push his buttons, though he is as stubborn as a mule — a trait that most of us share. Uvaldo had been worse and even refused to wear his arm sling. I still made sure that he got help with re-dressing his shoulder each day though.

Much to his annoyance.

Apparently, since he is a whopping four years older than i, my 'babying him' is completely invalid.

"At least let me make your soup," i offer, once we reach the kitchen. "Really, it's the least i can do right now," i elaborate, after seeing their dumbfounded expressions.

Another round of laughter can be heard when i make this comment, but, this time, Seamus has joined in with them, having overheard me.

"You?" my annoying twin shamelessly scoffs. "You couldn't even make toast without burning it, Sweetheart."

"It's only Chicken-noodle soup! I'm sure i can handle cooking soup!" i defend myself, and the boys laugh even more when Seamus rudely shoves me out of the way.

"Nu, uh. You're a liability in the kitchen, little Ria," he teases. "Now, why don't you just sit back, observe, and allow me — aka the professional — to care of it," he insists, patronisingly ruffling my hair as i walk past him.

With a huff of displeasure, i sit down on a raised stool at the kitchen island. The whole time, while watching my brother, i am in awe of how easily he is able to find his way around the kitchen.

It is true that i am pretty much banned from cooking anything in this house, or generally just using kitchen appliances. Well, unless i am supervised that is. But even then, my brothers do not care enough to do that, so usually i am to eat whatever they put in front of me. I do not mind this at all, considering most of them can actually cook and we all have similar likes and dislikes. However, i do find it rather unfair that my twins know what they're doing and i don't.

They are fully aware that i am the most competitive triplet, and so it brings them so much joy being able to beat me at something without even trying. Also, because they will get to be in charge if i do desire to cook.

And trust me when i say that is the last thing i want.

The first time i attempted to cook something, i literally set it on fire, and, because of that, Xavi immediately forbade me to try again.

You'd think he is scared i am going to burn the whole damn house down!

As if.

Really, the only brothers of mine who are (not completely) hopeless in the kitchen are Uvaldo...and i suppose Teddy. They would both agree that i am definitely the worst, though. So i really can't win either way.

"Bon appétit, Monsieur," Seamus states, with a dramatic bow, before handing the bowl of soup to Vinnie. "Be careful. It's very 'ot," he adds, putting on an over-the-top French accent.

"Merci beaucoup," Vinnie responds with a raised eyebrow, clearly taken aback by our ill-tempered brother who is in a good mood for once.

"And now, my lovely family, i must depart," Seamus mysteriously announces, as he leaves the room and heads back upstairs.

While Vinnie is finishing his meal, i decide to leave him alone with Uvaldo for a while. Not just because i have been by his side the whole day — i do admire his tolerance — but also because i assume he and Uvaldo will have a lot of catching up to do.

Vinnie has only been back for a night now, and, when we visited him in the hospital last week, the two of them weren't able to privately converse.

Now that i think about it, we should have allowed them a moment together. Neither boys mentioned anything at the time but i'm sure they would've appreciated it.

I can't help but feel bad because of our blatant ignorance.

They should've been the top priority this whole time. We shouldn't have been playing the game of whodunnit. We should've been focusing on their well-being instead...

I had secretly hoped that Seamus and i could spend some time together and talk through some things, maybe even invite Quentin, and we could head to the pier together, like we used to. We could eat the crappy tasting hot dogs and then go on the Pacific Wheel afterwards. Seamus and i would laugh the whole time because our brother is scared of heights, and then he would refuse to talk to us until we agreed to buy him an ice cream each.

Only this idea is short-lived because, by the time i go back downstairs to check on Vinnie, Seamus is waiting by the front entrance, a guitar case slung over his right shoulder.

"Where are you going?" i curiously ask, as i approach him.

"Somewhere," he states the obvious, not bothering to look up from his phone screen.

I roll my eyes.

It's probably most of my brothers worst habit nowadays — especially the teens — therefore causing it to become one of my many pet peeves.

"Somewhere being where?" i try again.

"Somewhere being far, far away from you." he smiles, bitterly, and my hopeful expression falls.

I sigh once he has left, closing the door behind him since he didn't bother to do it himself.

The heavy sound of footsteps echo from behind me shortly afterwards and i turn around, surprised to see Quentin.

He wears a huge grin on his face as he glances at his phone screen, rushing to the wall-length mirror where he goes to check himself out.

It's no secret that boys are generally quite vain, but Quentin wouldn't normally be so attracted to his own appearance, nor so oblivious to his surroundings.

He is dressed in a beige, oversized shirt with some high-waisted pants, which he has tucked the shirt into, keeping the top buttons of his shirt undone. Like Seamus, he is sporting several items of jewellery, including a golden wrist-watch, rings, and chain to match.

He hums a merry tune to himself, tousling his wavy, brown hair, and doesn't seem to be aware of my presence yet.

"What's got you all smug looking?" i ask him, laughing when he releases a surprised yelp.

"Don't sneak up on me like that, Rori. Jesus! I'm one scare away from a heart attack at this point," he claims, and i roll my eyes at his usual melodramatic attitude.

"I've been here the whole time, Quen, and i asked you a question." i raise my chin and flash him an innocent smile.

"Nothing's got me 'smug looking'..." he pauses. "I'm just happy. Aren't i allowed to be happy?" he asks.

"Of course." i nod. "You going somewhere?"

"Yes, Miss Super Detective," he mocks. "I am going somewhere."

"Where are you going?" i continue interrogating him, watching as he fixes his hair for the second time.

"Like i said: somewhere." he looks over his shoulder, flashing me a mischievous smirk.

"Do you two rehearse this or something?" i scoff, my smile becoming a frown.

"Huh?"

"Never mind." i wave him off. "Can i go...somewhere with you?" i ask, with hopeful eyes.

"Uh...Maybe another time, yeah? This is kind of a...Well, i'm meeting someone."

"Oh..." my shoulders sag in disappointment, but my eyes light up when i realise what he means. "Wait, like a date? You're going on a date?"

"No," he insists, "don't be silly."

I huff, narrowing my eyes at him.

"You're totally going on a date," i say. "Who—"

"Ria," he seethes. "Can you drop it? I'm not going on a date, i'm just meeting up with a friend and, no offence, i don't want my sister to tag along."

My gaze shifts to the floor as i catch the expression on his face; one that makes him look even more like Seamus.

Hostile, irritable, scolding, condescending.

Quentin very rarely loses his temper, so, when he does, you know he must be feeling on edge about something.

Perhaps it is due to our brothers being shot, or perhaps it is due to me snitching on him.

Either way, i best not push his buttons.

"M'sorry, Quen," i mumble, watching as his face softens.

"It's fine," he offers me a tight-lipped smile, and goes back to staring at himself in the mirror.

"I take it Xavi knows you guys are going out?" i then ask. "We're still grounded."

"I think Xavi has bigger things to worry about than our whereabouts," he answers, knowingly.

"Yeah...You're probably right." i sigh, choosing to ignore the fact my youngest brother is breaking the rules when he would usually be the one reminding us of them.

There is a short and awkward silence between the two of us, and i can tell that he wants to say something.

Truthfully, my brothers and i haven't spoken much at all since the day of Lindsay's party.

Seamus still treats me with indifference most of the time, and Quentin keeps to himself, but it is honestly the worst.

I don't want to be treated like a stranger by them and i don't want them to be cold and closed off towards me.

At least i know Quentin has been remorseful throughout, exchanging smiles with me every so often and mouthing 'sorry' when his brother takes it too far.

Ultimately, not having Seamus and me be civil to one another must have hurt him too, because we are triplets, not twins, and that is the difficulty of it.

Sometimes it feels like two against one when it should be the three of us against the world.

Only since our brothers were shot has Seamus started saying the odd sentence to me, but he still avoids me as much as possible.

Our brief interaction today was not unusual. Sure, he was rude and arrogant to me but i would be worried if he wasn't.

Strangers often guess that Seamus is older than i, and that he, Teddy, and Quentin are the triplets.

Despite the fact Seamus and Quentin probably look physically older than me, the former really does treat me the same way the rest of our older brothers do.

He is protective of me, like my older brother are, and he bosses me around like them also.

He is mean to me, just like they are, but he can also be very caring and loving at times.

And so — i would never say this out loud — Seamus, in a sense, is one of my favourite siblings.

Of course Quentin is also, i love them both equally, but my relationship with him has always been a good one.

Seamus and i, however, fight like cats and dogs, but those rare moments when we get along, when he lets me laugh with him, when he lets me hug him, those are the moments that make me realise just how special our bond is.

A boy like him is made up of many layers. He may wear a hard exterior, but, underneath it all, he is a huge softie.

Maybe that's why he loathes the taste of brownies.

— SUCKER PUNCH —

Today, like yesterday, both of my twins left home without permission, only this time they were gone before i had even arrived home after school.

Last night, i didn't hear them return home and so i assume that they did so when i was in bed.

"Where are Seamus and Quentin?" Yakov asks in an irritated yet calm tone of voice. "It's already half-past seven and they were instructed to be here at quarter past seven, sharp."

A chorus of unintelligible grunts and murmurs from the rest of our brothers cause Yakov to shift his attention to me.

"Rori." he raises his eyebrows, grabbing my attention.

"Hm?"

"Do you know why your twins are not currently present?" he asks, an expectant look on his face.

"No," i answer. "Don't you think i would've told you by now? I know they went out earlier, that's about it. We have separate lives, you know?" i raise an eyebrow, unimpressed at his assumption that i know of my brothers whereabouts when i happen to be the last person they would disclose such information with right now.

"I am well aware of that." Yakov nods, seemingly amused, as the corner of his mouth begins to twitch upwards, "But i believe you were the last person to have seen them."

I inwardly smile at his naivety.

Half a decade, and he has already forgotten what living with his younger siblings is like.

"They don't tell me where they venture off to for a reason, you know?" i lift my head up, locking my eyes with his.

"Fair enough." he nods once more. "But perhaps someone could just drop them a text message and the—"

The door abruptly bursts open, thus cutting off my older brother, and in walks the two unsuspecting teens.

Seamus enters first, still dressed in his school clothes, his appearance disheveled. He glances around the room with wide-eyes, chest puffing up and down as if he has just ran a marathon in the attempt to get here on time.

Quentin, who is clearly not late for the same reason as our brother, takes one scornful look at him before hastily pushing him out of the way and making his way over to where i am sitting.

He offers the lot of us an apologetic smile and then signals for Seamus —still standing in the doorway — to sit on the other side of me.

"You're late," Zephaniah points out from his seat at the head of the table, not even bothering to look them in the eye.

"I'm sorry, i was uh...I was...I'm sorry?" Seamus's pitiful attempt of an apology falls on deaf ears.

"It is nonsensical that you think i would accept an apology in the form of words, Fratellino." Zephaniah hastily clicks his fingers. "Pour me another glass of scotch."

I try my very best to