"Can you... excuse me for a minute?" I say softly after Adam released my hand. It was clear he didn't feel anything that I had, that he was unaware of what had just currently happened.

"You alright?" Darrel asked, having sensed my offputting feeling.

"Yeah," I respond, maybe a little too quickly. "You guys catch up, I'll be back."

I could sense that Garret knew something was wrong with me but I didn't look at him. I didn't want him to follow me. I wanted him to able to catch up with his brother. Absentmindedly walking out of the living room, I roamed anywhere from there. I wasn't sure where I was going or my heeled feet were taking me, but anywhere to make sense of what I had just seen was far better than trying to make sense of it while in company with him.

I knew he had nothing to do with the bondage and abuse I had faced for nine years. I doubt he even knew of my existence like the rest of my pack seemed to be oblivious of. But for him to be their friend as it seemed, it struck a nerve. It made me slightly angry and upset but I guess I couldn't be surprised.

To the untrained eye, they were three brothers that had gone through a lot. But had somehow lived to tell the story and looked well put together considered their circumstances. No one knew of the abuse. No one knew of the hatred they had for me. To people outside of the pack, I never existed. No one knew of me. Inside my pack, I was lost with my parents, my body never being recovered.

"Oh, Mademoiselle Emerald," said one of the maids who tended to me, Madam Pat.

"Hi Madam Pat," I say softly. "You don't have to address me as Mademoiselle, I'm just Emerald."

I had told her along with the staff this. They were so proper in this house, it was so uncommon for me.

"My apologies," she says. "It's a force of habit."

"No need to apologize," I say, laughing softly.

"Is everything alright? You seem a bit... lost."

I sighed, not knowing how to answer that question. I was lost. I was confused. With this sudden new discovery on top of the other things that have been brought to my attention in the past forty-eight hours, it was beginning to drive me insane. I needed to clear my head. And fast.

"I'm just a bit out of it is all," I respond nonchalantly. "Do you... do you think I could cook in here?"

Her face brightened up. "Well of course! You're a fantastic chef, it'd be an honor for someone to cook in here again."

I sigh of relief as I instantly begin to take off my heels. They weren't hurting me but I knew that it would be smarter for me to work barefoot for the less chance of my twisting my ankle. Madam Pat moved from behind the counter and allowed me to enter. From there, I let my body and hands begin the process of cooking while I let my mind continue to wander.

Heading towards the fridge, I let my hands grab random ingredients for a dish that I wasn't even sure of yet but I went with it. Finding the utensils and bowls that I needed, I instantly went to work in cutting the potatoes into eighths and placing them in a shallow roasting pan.

Having found some bone-in chicken thighs, fresh, in the fridge, I opened the pack and placed those on top of the potatoes. Getting a small bowl, I mixed ingredients for the chicken and potato glaze. Whisking olive oil, lemon juice, garlic, salt, oregano, and pepper together until it was well mixed, I poured it on top the chicken and potatoes.

With just doing that, I let them bake in the oven as I started on the side dishes. Going into the pantry and cupboards, looking for any other possible ingredients, I randomly see a sixteen sheet pack of phyllo dough. Instantly grabbing it, knowing exactly what I was going to make, I begin to start on that.

In a large bowl, I mixed together with an egg, thawed spinach, and feta and cottage cheese. Putting the first layer of dough down on top of a buttered flat pan, I brush butter on it and then add another layer of dough. I continue this process six more times until I get to adding the spinach mixture on top, placing the last sheet of dough on top of that. Brushing more butter on top of the finished layers, I put them in the freezer to freeze them for about thirty minutes as I tend to the side salad.

My body moved between all three of these dishes to make sure that everything was working smoothly. The chicken and potatoes were roasting nice and steadily, bringing an aroma to the kitchen that made my body feel warm. When spanakopita was nicely cooled for thirty minutes, I cut them into about one-inch squares and baked them underneath the chicken and potato roast for the remainder of the time left for it.

While I was frantically yet effectively running around the kitchen, I came to make sense of Adam's friendship with my brothers. He wasn't a threat. There was no bone in my body that made me believe he was. He was just another unaware bystander. How he'd react when he came to know the truth? I wasn't sure. I was hoping it wouldn't be something dramatic but something told me he'd understand.

Just as much as Garret did.