𝕃𝕠𝕧𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕒𝕟𝕕 𝔽𝕚𝕘𝕙𝕥𝕚𝕟𝕘 | Daryl Dixon

81 | OFF THE RECORD

Usually, when it came to in the morning, Halley would be adorably fussy about the clothes either Tori or Daryl picked out for her. After her wash, sit on the end of her small bed, wrapped snug in a big towel, and kick her legs around as she waited. Even before she could talk, the deep frown on her face would make it clear that she disapproved of a certain top or leggings, and it would leave Tori and Daryl fighting to hold back laughs at her behaviour.

However, today, there was no laughter. There were no adorable frowns that transformed into radiant smiles the perfect outfit was found. Even the soft Christmas jumper bedazzled in silver snowflakes made of sequins didn't get a smile from the toddler, and Tori was at a loss for what to do.

Tori's head continued to throb after another sleepless night of bolting out of bed every hour to vomit the remaining alcohol still burning through her bloodstream. Between the bouts of sickness, she lay in bed staring at the ceiling, listening to the clock on the wall tick by the seconds, each cluster of sixty marking another minute she was alone in the bed meant for two.

Despite her exhaustion, the sunrise was a welcomed mercy. After the seemingly unending hours of the night, she could begin the day with the hope of compensating for the past four days of neglecting her role as a mother. Likewise, Halley also seemed intent on making up for the lost days, as from the moment they were both up and dressed, she refused to let Tori set her down. Even while sitting at the kitchen table, Halley would not go to her highchair, remaining curled up in her mother's lap.

"Halley, you gotta have your breakfast," Tori did her best to encourage the girl, scooping up a small spoonful of the oatmeal she'd made. "C'mon, baby, just a little bit at least?"

But Halley shook her head, her face nuzzled into the side of Tori's neck. Her small arms curled around the woman's arm, hugging her tightly and refusing to let go. "Is yucky," she mumbled.

"No it's not, you always eat this," Tori attempted to detach the girl from her side, but Halley whimpered and clung tighter, curling into a ball in Tori's lap. The brunette's eyes became glossy, her voice trembling as she made another attempt, "How about, you eat half the bowl, then we go and see if Judith wants to play with you again today?"

"No, no. Stay mama," Halley began to cry, small tears rolling down her cheeks. "Miss dada, so mama stay."

Those words, spoken in such an innocent yet upset voice, nearly broke Tori's heart. A cold teardrop rolled down her cheek, falling from the corner of her eye as she embraced the two-year-old and glanced to her left, meeting her brother's gaze across the kitchen. She shook her head at him, her mind clouded with exhaustion, leaving her at a complete loss for what to do.

Jake, who had chosen to stay with Tori in her house to help her feel less alone, watched the scene at the table with pinched eyebrows. A sharp tug pulled at his chest as he observed the heartache bloom in his foster sister's eyes, thrumming through her trembling hands that moved up and down Halley's back in an attempt to console the girl.

Her heartbreak was palpable; it felt as though he could hear the shattered fragments rattling within her chest with every movement. Since they were young, Jake had assumed the role of shielding Tori from pain. Now, that protection extended to her child as well. Although they had grown a lot over the years, and experienced far more than they could have imagined as children, he remained her big brother by choice.

His footsteps were gentle, gliding over the wooden floorboards as he neared the table. He crouched beside the two girls, kneeling down to be at eye level with the toddler.

"Hey, Halley?" he softly spoke, the girl lifting her face from Tori's neck to look at him. "How about you and I have a day at home? We can play with all your toys, skip your naptime. You can make as much mess as you want and watch me clean it up. What do you think?"