it's March 22nd lol so instead of crying at that this year you can cry at this instead :)

(don't be scared about the tw, just mentioning it to be safe)

Through my tears, it doesn't take long to notice that something in Eve's room is out of place. Envelopes have been placed on top of her bed in plain sight.

She knew I'd come up here and find them.

There are six letters in total, each one bearing a name written clearly on the front in Eve's handwriting. Gerard, Lindsey, Frank, Mikey, Ray, Emerald.

I don't know what to expect when I scan the letters on the bed, my tears having ceased, the heartbreak and devastation I was feeling paused and replaced with fear at what I might find within the envelope with my name on it. To put it bluntly, I don't want to open this letter and take in the words only to realize that it's my daughter's suicide note.

Struck with how plausible that is after everything that has happened, I waste no more time before snatching the envelope off the bed and tearing it open.

• • •

Dad,

The court date is getting really close and my sleeping pattern is more fucked up than ever, so here I am, writing this at about three in the morning. If you're reading this, that means we lost and I didn't get to tear up these letters and use them as confetti.

I guess I should just start before you adopted me. My foster siblings, Rosa and Micah, were my only friends. "Friend" is even questionable, cause Micah didn't really like me, and I was a moody teenager so with Rosa I'd do as much as help her after her nightmares and read to her, but most of the time I wanted her out of my room.

I was always alone and reserved because I couldn't trust anyone, but I opened up to you surprisingly quick. It was especially surprising when I hugged you and told you that I'd never get over you adopting me. I'd never been so open with someone before then. That was only a few days after I moved in, and I wasn't lying. I'm still not over it, cause my hope at ever getting adopted was running out and when it finally happened it was better than I could've ever imagined. See, until then, I was so quiet and anxious and sad all the time, I don't think I even knew how sad I was cause I was just used to it. Then you found me and you showed me that I could be happy.

I know what you're doing right now. You're blaming yourself for me being gone. Stop it. It's not your fault. Stop looking back at all the bad times, all the mistakes, all the disasters. I was bound to get into trouble whether you were there to stop it from happening or not.

I know you don't want to hear it (or read it, I guess), but I am sorry about all that. I won't apologize anymore for all the things I couldn't control, like my panic attacks and my eating disorder, but I'm sorry I bottled it all up. I now know that I could've talked to you about it, but I didn't know how. I didn't want to disappoint you. I didn't want to get abandoned ever again like I had been so many times before. But you never did abandon me. Even when you found out I'd been skipping school and getting drunk in the woods with a bunch of people you'd never even heard of.

I really am sorry about that. The only way to describe what that was is stupid and we can't pretend otherwise. It. Was. Stupid. And. I'm. Sorry.

Besides being sorry, I'm eternally grateful. You accepted me the way I am, you cared, you listened to me, you protected me even though I know you think you failed at that. You didn't fail. For three years I was in better hands than I had ever been before. I got to know what it's like to be a part of a family, be happy, and what it feels like to belong somewhere, and you call that failing?

Really, Dad. Just think about that for a second.

Look past all the bad times. Remember all the movie nights, all the shows you took me to, everything you've helped me get through.

You didn't fail.

As far as I'm concerned, you did everything right and I couldn't have asked for anything more. You're gonna be such a great dad when the baby is born I'm kinda envious.

I love you and I miss you, but this isn't goodbye forever.

Love, Evie

• • •

I clutch the paper to my chest, careful not to crumple it, my eyes squeezed shut but tears still spilling from them. In one short letter she managed to confirm what everyone has been telling me: I didn't fail. And now that she's gotten it into my head, it's too late.

Despite where she wrote this isn't goodbye forever, it sure feels like it.

When I go back downstairs, I find everyone but Emerald and her mother who must've left immediately after Eve was out of sight. They all look up at me with the same halfhearted smile that people give when they don't know what else to do, but Lindsey rushes toward me.

"She's going to be fine," she says, hugging me tightly. "I'm sure she'll text you as soon as she gets there."

I nod and let her hold me for a few moments longer while everyone stands around looking anywhere but at us in the middle of the room.

When we pull away, Frank speaks up. "I, uh, I think we're just gonna head home now." He takes Jamia's hand.

Mikey, and Ray and Christa nod, too, but before they can move towards the door, I announce, "She left us letters." I hold up the stack of envelopes I brought from downstairs.

The one on top reads Lindsey, so I hand it to her. She turns it over in her hands, runs her finger over her name printed in black ink. She doesn't open it and neither do the others when I give them theirs. The only one that remains is Emerald's, so I guess I'll drop in at her house tomorrow when she's done school to give it to her.

The room is deafeningly silent, not as everyone reads the words Eve wrote them, but as they stare at the envelopes, wondering if they even want to open them here.

"I read mine upstairs," I say, rubbing the back of my neck. "If you think you're gonna cry, maybe wait 'til you get home to open it."

"We know, Gee," Mikey says, standing beside me and putting a hand on my shoulder. "We could hear you."

I feel my face grow hot. "Oh."

• • •

Mikey comes home to an empty apartment everyday. He has girls he could loosely consider girlfriends on and off, but it never seems to work out. None of them are the one and at this point he's not sure if he'll ever find the one. When he walks in today, it seems more empty than usual. He feels more lonely than usual, which is honestly saying something.

He kicks off his shoes, then drops down onto the old worn couch— which he only has because it was cheap, as is most everything else in his apartment— with a heavy sigh. Sitting there, he scans the envelope in his hands, afraid of opening it because he knows that it'll make everything too real. It'll solidify that Evelyn really has left and the next time any of them will get to see her in person will be a whole six months from now for a measly two days.

It's fucking bullshit.

He just wanted to be there for her as an uncle and keep being there for her, but now that has been taken away by some good-for-nothing judge. It's hard imagine how Gerard must be feeling right now, especially since Mikey's been swallowing the lump in his throat all day and feels about ready to break something. Looking around the room, the options are endless: he could smash the picture frames on the wall, or kick over the coffee table, or throw his phone across the room.

Instead, he takes a deep breath to compose himself, then opens the letter carefully.

• • •

Uncle Mikey,

On the first day we met, you hugged me and referred to me as "Kid" and that's when I decided I liked you. Until then, no one had ever used that word nicely towards me. I was always a "worthless kid" and a "stupid kid" and, maybe worst of all, "Not my kid."

I didn't belong anywhere, I had no one to talk to, and I couldn't trust anyone. I trusted you immediately. I loved it when you picked me up from school because you were always prepared to listen to whatever I had to rant about that day, whether it was annoying kids, or classes that didn't make sense and that I didn't give a shit about. Don't get me wrong, Dad's speeches are great and inspirational and thought-provoking and all, but you always listen, and sometimes that's all I need.

I already know that I can text you anytime and that I can tell you anything, or that I can call you in the middle of the night and you'll actually pick up. And I'm really gonna miss walking in after school and seeing you on the couch because you basically lived with us, or getting picked up from school by you.

Thank you for being the best uncle I could ask for (even though you're really the only uncle I've ever had, but you get the point).

Don't worry about me, I'll be fine.

Love, Eve

• • •

As Mikey reads the letter over and over again, wishing it was longer, and hoping that the future midnight calls Eve are referring to don't turn out to be a repeat of any kind, Ray is alone in his home studio with a letter of his own.

When he thinks about Eve, he thinks about how grownup she's become in the time that he's known her. He also thinks about how grownup Gerard has become, whether he's realized it himself or not, since having a kid around. He thinks about how Gerard was once immature like any twenty-something year old guy under the spotlight can be, and how he turned out to personally better the life of one girl who was in desperate need of a stable home.

If he thinks about it too hard, his mind starts drifting to the bad parts. Like the panic they all felt when they were desperately searching for Evelyn only to find out she'd been running off to the woods to drink and smoke as a way to cope with things she never should have gone through in the first place.

It was on that day that he'd finally said it to Frank out loud, "She likes me, right? Evelyn likes me?"

He just wanted her to like him as much as she seemed to like the other guys, and as much as he liked her.

• • •

Ray,

I was really tempted to start this letter by saying Frodude, but I told you I wouldn't call you that so I didn't.

Man, I'm gonna miss you. I don't know if I've ever told you this, but you give the best hugs. Not only that, but you always know what to say. See, Frank is enthusiastic and energetic (maybe too energetic sometimes), and sure, he can be optimistic, but you're kind of like Emerald. You always look on the bright side of things. If I'm ever feeling down, I know I can go to you for support.

I look up to you (and not only because you are tall), but because I can only hope to be as nice and genuine and passionate as you are one day. I highly doubt I will, though, because my soul is black and I lack motivation. If anyone could motivate me, though, it'd be you because you care so much about the things you do and you're so good at them, too. Kinda makes me wish I hadn't given up on ukulele.

Thanks for always being there for me and supporting me.

Love, Eve

P.S. Thank you for being mature enough to help me when I was stupidly in love with Em and didn't know what to do about it.

• • •

The validation he was craving? Or a sinking feeling when he got to the end of the page, a realization that although she'd undoubtedly be back when she was legally allowed to make those decisions (unless she somehow decided that Rhode Island was better than Jersey, but he didn't want to think about that), for the meantime Evelyn wasn't going to receive the same support she'd been getting. He just hopes she'll be okay.

Frank also hopes she'll be okay, and hopes that the letter she decided to write him won't make him cry because he'd already broken down in front of her this morning. It's not that he sees crying as being weak— he doesn't— but he always saw himself as someone that Eve could lean on, would keep it together and remain optimistic no matter what.

Without her, he'll feel lost. He could always count on her to be on board with his antics. What if he gets bored? Who will he conduct random, totally science-related experiments with? Like squishing Tide Pods just to see what'll happen, or seeing how many pencils they can stick in Ray's hair before he notices? And what is he supposed do on Friday nights without the movie-watching tradition?

• • •

Frank,

Keep showing up on Friday nights and drag Mikey and Ray there with you. Just pretend I'm being all teenagerish and hiding in my room instead of coming down and socializing.

I'm rolling my eyes at myself as I write this because I know how fucking hopeless it is, so I'm just gonna skip to the obligatory sappy parts: thanks for being there for me, Frankie. Thanks for accepting me as soon as I came out to you before anyone else (I wish I knew I had nothing to be scared of), and thanks for being ready to beat up any homophobe's ass for me.

Thanks for giving Dad no choice but to bring me along on tour that one time, thanks for supporting every decision I make when it comes to my hair, thanks for making cookies with me even though we are a disaster duo and the likelihood of us burning the house down is high.

You taught me to always stay true to myself and not change for anyone, and I promise I won't. I won't change. Well, I could start doing my homework and stop procrastinating so much, but other than that, I won't change.

I appreciate you always being there for me and always being there to joke around with and lighten the mood on bad days. Don't think I won't text you if I ever need a laugh.

I'm gonna miss you so much, Frankie.

Love, Eve

• • •

Frank, Ray, and Mikey have already read their letters perhaps a dozen times by the time Lindsey finally slips hers out of the envelope carefully and prepares herself to read it in the light of her bedside lamp. She's cuddled next to Gerard who's asleep next to her, and she matches his deep breathing to calm her own nerves. She's glad he got to sleep because he definitely needed a break from everything.

She does too, but she can't say it's the same for her. She can't imagine how her husband must be feeling and has been trying her best to be there for him, but fact of the matter is, she can't fully understand it and never will. Still, although she hasn't been in Evelyn's life for as long as the others, she grew to see her as a daughter. She's never said it out loud before, and Eve has never called her "mom" either. Not even with a slip of the tongue.

If they could have been together just a little bit longer, gotten a little bit closer, she feels it would've happened.

• • •

Lindsey,

You're going to be such a great mom when the baby comes. Please just don't give in to Frank and name the baby Nakatomi. Die Hard is rad and all, but it's just not a good idea.

In all seriousness, once I got over the initial shock of my dad having gotten married while on tour while I wasn't able to be there, I was happy. Like, really happy. First of all, I needed another girl around here. Someone I could roll my eyes about the boys with. But also, I could tell from the start that you were good for Dad.

When my biological mother would bring people home, I'd never get good vibes from them. I was always afraid of them and afraid of what they'd do to me and to my mother because, shitty parent or not, she was all I had. I never did get those vibes from you and I know I don't have to thank you for it, but I want to.

Thanks for entering our family regardless of all the shit I had going on at the time. You didn't have to stay and help take care of me like I was your own, but you did. Thanks for sticking around through it all, and also thanks for making my dad happy.

Also, I don't usually find myself caring very much if/when people try and show me pictures of their kids, but I can make an exception this time. Send me all the baby pictures you take.

Love, Eve

• • •

She wasn't sure if it was the pregnancy hormones making her cry this much, but when Lindsey clicked off the lamp and was plunged into darkness, the comforting presence of her husband at her side, she still had tears in her eyes.