Page 19 of What They Say

Maudie didn’t hesitate. She stepped forwards, wrapped an arm around Emy’s shivering shoulders, and pulled her inside without a single question. “You’re safe now,” she’d said firmly, her voice steady even though Kath could feel her sister trembling with rage. “Come on, baby girl. Let’s get you warm.”

They moved as a team, the way they always did when one of their own was hurting. Kath ran to the bathroom for towels while Maudie guided Emy to the couch and peeled off her soaked hoodie. Kath returned with the biggest, softest blanket they owned and a pair of her own sweatpants. Together, they dried Emy’s hair, helped her change, and wrapped her up tight. Maudie made hot cocoa with the last of the milk while Kath sat on the floor in front of Emy, holding her icy hands and rubbing warmth back into them.

It took hours for the whole story to come out—halting words between sobs. The latest foster placement, the one that was supposed to be permanent, had gone wrong. The man in the house had started with long stares, then “accidental” touches, then worse. Emy had run the moment she could.

Maudie’s jaw had stayed locked the entire time, but her hands were gentle as she brushed Emy’s damp hair back from her face and whispered, “He’ll never touch you again. I swear it.” Kath had curled up on Emy’s other side, arm around her waist, offering what little comfort she could while her own stomach twisted with helpless fury. They stayed like that all night—two big sisters on either side of their broken girl—talking her through the panic, fetching water when she cried herself hoarse, and promising over and over that she wasn’t alone anymore.

The next morning, they presented a united front at the social worker’s office. Maudie did most of the talking, her voice sharp and unyielding as she laid out every detail. Kath stood on Emy’s other side, hand firmly in hers, refusing to let go even when the adults tried to separate them. They were guard dogs in human form—fierce, protective, and unwilling to back down until the system finally listened and pulled Emy out of that house for good.

That was the night the three of them made their first real ride-or-die promise. No matter what. No matter where life tried to scatter them. They would always have one another’s backs.

“I’m so sorry,” Kath said quietly. “That sucks. You deserved it. You earned it.”

Emy shrugged, but her eyes were shiny. “Maybe I didn’t. Maybe I’m just kidding myself. I switched to the arts program because I thought I could actually do something that mattered, you know? Tell real stories. Make people feel something. But every day it feels like I’m drowning in pretentious assholes who already have connections and money and...and... God, Kath, what if I made a huge mistake? What if I should’ve just done something safe? Business. Nursing. Anything that actually pays.”

Kath sat up straighter, leaning closer to the phone like she could reach through the screen and hug her.

“Emy. Listen to me. You are the most talented person I know. You see things other people don’t. You make people care. That trust-fund kid? He’ll make something pretty that everyone forgets in two weeks. You would’ve made something that matters. And if they can’t see that, then fuck them. You keep going. You keep fighting. Because the world needs your version of things.”

Emy was quiet for a long moment, wiping at her eyes with her sleeve.

“You always know what to say,” she muttered. “Even when I’m spiraling.”

“That’s my job,” Kath said, smiling gently. “Ride or die, remember? Half a state away doesn’t change shit.”

Emy gave a watery laugh. “Yeah. Ride or die.” She blew out a breath. “Enough about my disaster. Tell me something good. How’s the bike treating you? Any new bruises from that thing?”

Kath hesitated. The perfect opening. She wanted to tell Emy about Chase. About the way he’d looked at her like she was interesting, not just hot. About how they’d talked for a real hour without him once trying to steer the conversation towards getting her into bed. About how she couldn’t stop thinking about him.

But Emy looked so tired. So raw.

So Kath swallowed the words and smiled instead.

“The bike’s good. Really good. Makes me feel free, you know? Like I can outrun everything for a little while.”

Emy studied her through the screen, eyes narrowing just slightly. “You’re holding back. I can tell. Spill it, Granola Bandit.”

Kath laughed softly. “There might be a guy. Maybe. I don’t know. I met him at the diner this morning. He knew the guy who built my bike. We just talked. But he was different, you know? Quiet. Real.”

Emy’s face lit up despite everything. “Oh my God. Details. Right fucking now.”

Kath shook her head, cheeks warming. “Not yet. It was just one conversation. Probably nothing.”

But even as she said it, she knew she was lying. Talking to Chase hadn’t felt like nothing. It had been special, and if she let it, it might even be the start of something good.

***

Chase

Chase couldn’t stop thinking about her.

Two days had passed since the diner, and Kath’s face kept flashing behind his eyes at the worst possible moments, like during rehearsal when he was supposed to be locking in with Benny, while he was helping Bear tune a carburetor, even when he was lying in bed staring at the ceiling at Bear’s house.

Platinum hair catching the light. That sharp, amused smirk when she called him out for staring. The way her voice dipped into a lower register when she talked about music feeling like a lifeline.

He’d failed at Flirting 101, because he didn’t have a number or a last name, just “Kath.” And the memory of red stockings and a custom blue-and-white bike that Bear had poured his soul into.

“Earth to Chase.”