You and rafe had been together for years, eventually having three kids.

The oldest, Cassie. Was sixteen, trying every trick in the book me and rafe had used many times before, we knew she would steal our cigarettes, drink on weekends with her friends— but we had been worse.

Then our golden child, Scottie. She was fourteen and top of her class, though she had Rafe's sarcastic personality… she sure as hell would go far in life.

Then our baby, Trevor. He was only ten, dumb as they came. But he was just like his daddy in many ways, so neither of us could say much.

But having three kids, wasn't easy.

“What happened? Whose in trouble?” Scottie said, running down the stairs. “Trevor, read my journal!” Cassie scoffed, turning to face me and rafe yet again, waiting for us to tell him off.

“You know I'm gonna kill you.” she said again, pointing at her little brother. “Cassie, calm down.” Rafe sighed, wanting to keep the peace in the house. “Your not even going to yell at him? That was private!”

“Oh, please. The most shocking thing in there was your spelling.” Rafe replied, rolling his eyes before realizing he had just snitched on himself. “You read it too? Mum, do something!” Cassie whined, turning to you with that little pout.