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16. ( evidence )
ミ☆
JUGHEAD'S WORDS, EERILY similar to Betty's - still echoed around her head an hour later, seated around a breakfast bar in Archie's kitchen as Jughead and Betty discussed their next course of action. Delilah didn't like the way that Betty kept giving her pitying glances, almost as if she thought she couldn't see, but Delilah did see, and she hated it. It made her feel weak - labelled. She used to be known as 'the girl who lost her mind', now she was 'the girl whose family were murdered.' Even if it was only her close friends who knew the truth, she didn't like it.
"Are you sure there is nothing else we can do while we wait?" The three of them were currently waiting for Archie, Veronica and Kevin to return from Joaquin's apartment (hopefully with information that was useful to their investigation) and Delilah was getting impatient.
Jughead shook his head. "Not really." Delilah sighed at his response, looking down at the breakfast bar, her eyes following the patterns hidden in the surface of the marble, and tried her best not to meet Jughead's eyes.
This was the first she had been on her own in a room with the couple since her and Jughead's moment, and the guilt was driving her mad. She hadn't been able to look at Betty properly for hours, for fear she would accidentally let slip the secret that was slowing beginning to eat her up from the inside.
She wished she could be truthful with Betty, wished she could blurt it out and be done, instead of harbouring yet another secret that would only drive them further apart if she let it sit and fester inside her for long enough. But she was scared. Scared that if she opened her big gob and released that one tiny spark between her and Jughead, then Betty would never speak to her again, and Delilah couldn't lose Betty. She wouldn't. Not if she could help it.
So instead, Delilah suffered in silence; doing her best to avoid being in the same room with Jughead, or Betty. Since she was now stuck in Archie's kitchen with both of them, it appeared she hadn't managed to do very well.
Her eyes kept glancing up to the clock on the wall, willing for time to move along, for the others to return so she wouldn't have to bear the awkwardness any longer.
Luckily, she didn't have to wait much longer. But, it wasn't the noise of a door opening - signalling the others returning - that was to be her saving, it was instead the buzzing of her phone, and a surprising number lighting up the screen. Confused, she pressed the green button to take the call.
"Alice? What's up?"
"Delilah, honey, I'm going to need you to come home." There was a sense of urgency, yet slight sadness, to Alice's tone as she spoke.
