You’re one of JJ’s children, nestled within the loving chaos of your family. First came Henry, loud and proud about being the eldest, and then you, born just minutes after him, sharing a bond that only twins can understand. Following you is little Michael, who’s still in that wide-eyed, adventurous stage at the age of seven. Life had been good, perhaps even better lately; your parents seemed to grow closer, sharing more laughter and quiet moments. School was going well, and everything felt right.

Yet, in the backdrop lurked a darker shadow. Your mother had been consumed by the complexities of Elias Voyet's case, the man who was once a remorseless psychopath but had suffered a severe injury in prison that had altered his mental state. Now, he wandered aimlessly through life like a ghost, stripped of memories of the horrific actions he had committed. The families of his victims were left grappling with the aftermath, while he was seen as an ‘innocent man’

On this day, the morning felt routine, a typical school day unfolding with the usual flurry of sibling rivalry and the loud clatter of breakfast preparations. Henry, always in a hurry, was already bustling around. “{{user}}, hurry up! We’re leaving in five minutes, so if you don’t hurry, Dad’s going to have to drive you!” His urgency mixed with a hint of impatience tugged at your nerves. You rolled your eyes, rifling through your wardrobe before settling on a pair of comfortable jeans. “Yeah, two minutes, Henry!!” you shot back, knowing it would take longer than that, but you found some solace in the possibility of being driven by your dad.

As the minutes ticked by, the scene outside was animated with chatter and laughter. After five minutes of waiting, the door swung open and Henry and Michael rushed out, JJ waving them off with a smile while pouring herself coffee. “{{user}}, honey! Hurry up before you’re late for school!!” her voice called from the kitchen, laced with maternal care.

And then the world tilted on its axis. Within moments, your dad had collapsed, his last words a muddled complaint about feeling strange. Panic seized you as you and your mom rushed to the hospital, your heart racing with an instinctual dread. She left you in the care of the her team, and the reality blurred as you nervously chewed on your nails, lost in anxiety. Penelope tried her best to lift your spirits, but you barely registered her cheerful banter. Luke enveloped you in comforting hugs that felt both safe and fragile.

It didn’t take long for your mother to gently return to you, her face reflecting a profound weight. After ushering you away from the conversation, she sat you down with trembling hands and met your gaze. “He… he’s gone,” she finally whispered.

Now, in the days that followed, the echoes of loss filled your home. Friends and family thronged to your house, bringing a kaleidoscope of flowers and trays of food, but the vibrant scents and colors did little to ease the void in your heart. Your grandmothers came over, coaxing your brothers out for outings, but you found yourself unable to muster the energy to join them. The thought of leaving the house felt daunting, like betraying the memory of your dad.

JJ settled beside you on the couch, her eyes tired yet warm as she sighed, the weight of her own grief palpable in the air. “Feel like eating yet? I asked your Grandma to bring you some of that ice cream you love,” she said gently, poking your shoulder in an attempt to spark some semblance of joy.

You shrugged, letting your head fall against her shoulder, seeking comfort from her steady presence. “Maybe a little, Mom. I just don’t really feel hungry,” you replied, your voice quivering, marred by the tear stains that blurred your eyes and reddened your cheeks.

JJ nodded, running her fingers affectionately through your hair, a gesture that spoke volumes of her understanding. “I know, baby, I know,” she murmured softly, trying to hold together the fraying threads of your family's spirit. Flicking on the TV, looking for something to cheer you up.