SEVENTEEN

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George just arrived at his parent's house; it did take longer to travel home than he hoped. The first flight back to England was on Monday morning, twelve hours later than George wanted. George knew he let his team down during the race, he knew he let his fans down, but his sister's accident went through his mind.

"How is she doing?" George asked his mum when they entered the living room.

"Ted is..." Mum sighed and sat down on the couch. "She's still very shocked, anxious, in pain, but overall okay. She doesn't show she's in pain though. She'll be staying here for a while. Her wrist is broken, but there's also a small crack in the top of the radius." Mum pointed at the top of her underarm. "So she has a long cast around her arm. Ted is very lucky. The three motorists who were involved, passed away."

George blew up his cheeks. "Pfew, this is intense," he muttered. "How is the investigation going?"

"Two elderly people of the Audi died in the accident. The man in the Mercedes caused it because he had a blackout. He lost control and drove into the Audi - he passed away Sunday evening due to a brain bleed. The Audi drove into your sister's car. She didn't have a chance to avoid it."

"I saw the pictures on the news... It looked bad," he admitted. "Ted is very lucky."

Catherine walked down the stairs; her head hurt, her arm hurt, her neck was sore, and her ribs were irritated. She heard people talk, but she wasn't waiting to socialise. She went to the kitchen and saw a loaf of bread on the kitchen counter; it was for a sandwich. However, it made Catherine frustrated about not being able to make a sandwich. The wrist she broke was her dominant arm. If there was one thing she couldn't do, then it was doing anything with her left hand. A frustrated groan left her mouth; one day in and already hating the cast. Her eyes fell on an apple, and she grabbed it. Catherine took a bite, but it wasn't a huge success since her jaw was sore as well.

She walked to the living room and slowly chewed on the piece of apple. Catherine faced her mother and George. "Hey," she said and smiled like nothing was going on.

George locked his eyes with Catherine's. "Hello," he worriedly said. "How are you feeling?"

"I'm okay. Bit of pain, sore limbs," she said.

He nodded and observed Catherine; her jaw was purple, her right arm had a cast, and she looked lost. "I'm so glad you're okay, Ted..." George walked towards her and carefully wrapped his arms around her. "You got me so worried."

"Careful," she whispered when she felt some pressure.

"Sorry."

Catherine closed her eyes and wrapped her free arm around him. "It happened so quick," she whispered, and her voice cracked. "I was so scared. I..." She pressed her face in his shoulder and opened her eyes to allow her tears to flow.

"It's okay," he whispered and stroked her back.

"They died, they all died," she pressed the words over her lips. Catherine's bottom lip started to tremble, and she broke in tears. "I..."

"You're okay."

Catherine and George were standing for some time in the living room. Catherine cried, and George supported her. All the emotions Catherine had put away, came out. She had acted she was okay, that it wasn't something big. But it was traumatising and confronting; she could be dead instead of the three other people.

"But your race was shit," Catherine said after a while after she calmed down.

George softly chuckled. "No, shit, Sherlock," he muttered and pulled back so he could look at her. "What else do you want me to do after I find out why I was feeling like crap because my sister has been in an accident?"

"You felt it?" Catherine dried her cheeks and looked at the apple she was still holding in her hand.

"Well, not exactly feeling the accident, but I felt something was wrong. I felt empty and nauseous."

"Shit..." she whispered sorrily. "I didn't tell you because I wanted you to drive this race perfectly. You had the chance to finally score some points." Catherine looked at him. "I'm sorry we have connected feelings."

He was shaking his head. "There's nothing we can do about. We happen to be twins."

They both looked at their mum, whose face straightened. "It wasn't me who decided to go for the twin situation. Don't blame me for it." She threw her arms up in the air.

Catherine and George both laughed and sat down on the couch.

"Weren't you supposed to go to Carmen?" Catherine curiously asked. "I thought you would visit her in London."

George nodded. "Yeah, I was supposed to go to Carmen, but I had to see you first."

A weak smile grew on her face. "Cara freaked out when she recognised my car in the news. I have never seen that woman so hysterical," she told him. "And Benjy was worried as well, but because he knew I was fine, he reacted pretty chill. Wouldn't expect something else, though."

"Yeah, she called me after the race. Cara was almost impossible to deal with, especial when the police confirmed when a third person has passed away. She thought it was you," he softly said with pain in his voice.

"Horrible moments."

"I honestly thought you would reacting differently," George admitted. Catherine looked confused at him. "More emotional, but you seem pretty fine."

"She's on medicines, she doesn't realise what happened yet," mum answered for Catherine.

"Yeah, of course," George nodded. "Have you contacted..." He rose his eyebrows to send her the him look. "...yet? How did he react?"

"Whom?" Catherine couldn't make anything up from his look.

"You know, Cal..."

Catherine showed him the stop-it look. "No, not yet. I'm not ready for it. I will do it tomorrow. If I can find my phone."

"Alright. Promise me you will do it, he is probably worried."

"He doesn't even know what happened to me," Catherine blurted.

"Exactly!" George scanned her face; she acted nonchalant about it. "Anyway, how is your arm?"

Catherine looked at the cast. "It's horrible, let me tell you that. Apart from the fact it hurts like shit, I can't do anything with it. Like, I now realise how much I depend on my right arm, on two arms. Can't do a thing. That's why I have to stay here because I probably still would die if I was alone in my house," she muttered and sighed. "I have to go back next week to the hospital. My arm is swollen, and only a part of it is covered with plaster. Next week my whole arm will be fully covered with plaster. Very nice."

Catherine indeed was on medicine, George noticed. In other words, she said: it is what it is. Meanwhile, Catherine's career was over for now. George knew how passionate Catherine was about cooking, about working in that restaurant, and she had worked hard for it to get a job at Lilou, and now she didn't care about the fact it was over. She was emotional about the accident, but not hysterical. Over the years, George learned that Catherine needed time to get to the point she would realise things, and being on medicines didn't help it a lot.

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