Lacy stared at her father across the dinner table, his fork scraping on the plate while hers remained untouched. A medium rare steak, a favorite of hers, now something she couldn't stomach to eat, so her father cooked it medium for her. Dinner was never really something they had the opportunity to share with his job, but Sam wanted that to change. He got his daughter back, she was safe at home with him, that mattered to him more than whatever job he had.
"You're not eating," Samuel pointed out.
It wasn't the first time which is why he didn't sound surprised. Lacy barely ate anymore. The thought of eating made her sick, the smell made her nauseous. Even the thought of chewing food made her feel weak. "Can I ask you something?" She changed the subject.
There was a pause. "Of course, sweetheart," responded Sam, sitting his fork down.
Lacy popped her knuckles under the table. "Earlier today when you called me to tell me about Isaac. . .you never explained why," she spoke slowly. "Why he came back to school, I mean. What happened?"
Samuel stared at his daughter with parted lips, then he blinked. "Oh. Um. . .there was, uh, complications and he had to leave school for a little while. That's all."
She hummed. Like Lydia, her father had his own tellings when he lied. His hands started fidgeting. "Complications. Like what?"
He shook his head. "I can't discuss that—"
"Why are you lying to me?"
Samuel blinked in shock. "Lacy,"
"You don't think I deserve to know when something happens to my friends?"
He sighed. "Lacy, you know my job. I can't tell you things like that—"
"Is that why you didn't tell me about Lydia?" Lacy cut him off, the volume in her voice raising slightly.
There was another pause. Sam's lips were parted but no words came out.
"You've known for months now that she went missing and you didn't tell me," she accused, growing angry. "Why?"
"How could I tell you something like that?" He matched tone, raising his hands. "You hadn't been home that long and I didn't want you to have to worry about anything, so I didn't tell you. To keep you safe."
Lacy scoffed. "I don't need you to—"
He pointed a stern finger at her. "Don't sell me that teenage bullshit. I'm your father. You were taken from me and I have you back now. I'm not going to have you worrying about things that have nothing to do about you."
The loud sound of the chair screeching against the floor echoed in the room. "You should have told me! I was kidnapped, dad. I didn't think I was ever gonna come back home. I thought I was gonna die! But I didn't, and I come back to find out that my friend went missing too?" Lacy yelled as she stood up, her voice cracking. "Was she scared like I was? Did she think she'd never see her family again? Her friends?"
Samuel softeners and stood up as well. "I'm sorry, sweetheart—"
"And Issac? I mean, accused of murder?" She continued to let out, throwing her hands up.
"Who told you that? Stiles?"
"Issac would never hurt anyone!"
Sam again shook his head. "That's not how my job works, honey," he tried to calm himself.
"Do you know what I saw when I saw him in the hallway?" Lacy inquired with another clear break in her voice. "I saw Daphne."
Her father frowned.
"I saw my best friend. I saw the two of them together again. He looked so shocked to see me, like he was seeing the same things as me. And now I have to be in the same room knowing that he doesn't know what happened to Daphne but I do." She started to cry.
Sam stepped forward. "Lacy—"
She turned away from him. "I'm going to bed."
"Lacy. Lacy, come back. Please!" Sam yelled but was again ignored as she darted upstairs. A loud huff escaped his lips like he had forgotten how to breathe and Samuel collapsed back into his chair, rubbing his hands against his tired face.