xxx. The Muffin Man.

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chapter thirty

season two.

IF THERE'S ONE THING that Judy has been dreading the most since John B's death, it's going back to school

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IF THERE'S ONE THING that Judy has been dreading the most since John B's death, it's going back to school. In fact, this morning she's already scarfed down four bowls of peanut butter Cap 'N Crunch, while Shoupe eyes her warily.

He doesn't care enough to say anything. He'd rather she ate too much than too little. Even if it does mean him having to pick up another box of cereal every other day from the grocery store. His house is her house now, which means she's free to empty his cupboards whenever she pleases.

As for Luke Maybank's son being around all the goddamn time, ransacking his refrigerator, that he's not too keen on. But she seems to brighten up whenever he's around, so a soft part of him doesn't have the heart to run him out of the house. Plus, if she's calm, she's not at as much risk of being hospitalised again. JJ is rebellious, and reckless, and beyond careless. A terrible influence. But he's choosing to give him the benefit of the doubt.

For Judy's sake.

"How you feelin' about today?" The man in uniform asks, chewing on a buttery piece of toast.

The teenager sitting across from him at the kitchen table cradling a ceramic bowl as if it were a giant teacup and slurping down the remnants of milk, shrugs, and licks her lips clean.

"It's not gonna be easy," Shoupe continues. "But I've had a word with the staff, and your teachers are there to support you, all right? If you need a time-out, have a time-out. If you wanna come home, come home."

Home. Where is home now? It's not here. The Chateau is, and always has been, her home. And yet now it feels like the coldest, most loneliest place. A longstanding graveyard filled with memories of the people that she's lost in such little time.

Truthfully, she's not really sure where she belongs anymore.

"Okay." She chips, quietly, just as a loud horn sounds from outside.

Setting down her bowl and spoon, Judy stands, legs scraping against the carpet as she unhooks her backpack from the chair and loops it over her shoulder.

"You sure you don't want me to take you?" Shoupe brushes his hands together, breadcrumbs raining down onto the table.

"So everyone can marvel at the depressed sister of the dead teenage boy who was framed for murder, while also getting out of a cop car? Yeah, no. I'll pass."

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