aoife had always wanted a sister.

she remembers begging her mam, over and over when she was a child to have another baby, and to specifically have a girl, so she wasn’t outnumbered by two kevin’s. she remembers her mam laughing tenderly, saying “maybe, love.” and that was that. aoife never got her sister, and she had to deal with kev for twenty years of her life.

until now.

she’s bathing aj when her mam calls her. asks her to come over, alone. and aoife can tell by the sound of her voice that this is serious, so aoife leaves aj with edel, and goes to her childhood home. she’s not exactly sure what she expects to see, but it certainly isn’t her carbon copy sitting at the table, with her dad looking sheepish and her mam looking upset.

aoife connects the dots quickly.

she was ten the first time she overheard her mam and dad arguing over his affairs, and as a child, she naively assumed that was the first time. but staring at this teenage girl, she realises that her dads affairs happened much earlier than she ever presumed. her dad explains that your mam had been arrested, and while tony wasn’t aware of you until social services got in touch, he had taken you in.

aoife had always wanted a sister, but not in this circumstances. not when her mam looked so heartbroken every time she looked at you. and you didn't look much better yourself — quiet and guilty looking. aoife tried not to resent you, but how could not not resent your dads product of an affair sitting at your kitchen table?

getting to know you for four months had been slow. aoife had been slow to warm up to you, and was even more surprised to learn that her mam was close with you. she watched the way you interacted, and when she pulled her mam on it, all trish had to say was: “she deserves a mam. and a family.”

from that day forward, she made an effort with you. she spoke to you, invited you for dinner, let you spend time with aj. and eventually, she realised she had more in common with you then she ever presumed she would. she looked out for you, and she made sure you was okay.

but now she’s driving around in the middle of the night after a call from her sobbing mam, explaining that you had gotten a call from your mam from prison, and you had shot off. so she’s driving around with joey, their son left with edel as they drive around cork.

“what if we don’t find her?” aoife asks nervously, for what seems to be the hundredth time in a hour.

“we will.” joey replies again. over and over.

he keeps driving, and aoife keeps looking.

then she sees a girl at the bus stop. same long blonde hair. green eyes. freckles. skin a little lighter than aoife’s. she sighs, tells joey to pull over and wait in the car. she gets out and strolls over to you.