Fic: Truth Be Told, part 9

2038-01-19T03:14:07Z

Title: Truth Be Told
Author: monroeslittle
Genre: Veronica Mars
Rating: Teen (for later implications and such)
Summary: Marlie Echolls has as many doubts as any other sixteen-year-old girl. One thing she never doubted, however, was who her parents were. At least she didn't until a woman knocked on her grandfather's door and dropped the bombshell. Logan/Veronica; future fic.

Her breakfast smiled at her.

Marlie couldn't help but smile back, and she supposed that was the point. Her mother took a certain pleasure in silly, little things like that. Marlie slipped into the seat at the kitchen table. She still wore her pajamas and it was ten in the morning now, but it was clear no one expected her to go to school. She was glad: she didn't want to deal with that yet.

She didn't know how late it was when Weevil had found her on the beach. She didn't know how long she sat up with her parents. She didn't know when she finally fell asleep. She didn't feel as if she had slept very long, though.

She picked up her fork to start in on her eggs at the same moment her mom set a glass of juice in front of her and then sat down across from her with a cup of coffee. "Where's Dad?" Marlie asked. It occurred to her that she ought to call Lianne. What were the chances that Logan and Veronica had called her?

"He had to take care of some things in town," her mom answered, sipping her coffee. "How'd you sleep?" she asked kindly.

"Fine," Marlie replied. "Not great but . . . okay." Veronica nodded and it was quiet as Marlie took her first bite. There was so much she should say, so much she had to say, but where to start?

"Your uncle Wallace called," her mom said. "He talked to Lianne." Marlie didn't have a response. "I told him to tell her you spent the night with us." Marlie nodded. That settled that problem. It was quiet as she finished off her eggs and started on the bacon, but she couldn't stand it for long.

"I'm sorry," she finally said. "I'm sorry that I haven't tried to call or talk to you or see you or anything. I . . . I have missed you."

Veronica nodded. "We've missed you, too."

It was silent again.

"And I — I wanted to say thanks," Marlie soldiered on. "Thanks for last night and thanks for always sticking that pepper spray in my bag and," she faltered slightly, "thanks for warning me and telling me never to accept drinks. He actually . . . he offered at one point, but I thought of you and said no."

"That's good," her mom said. "I'm proud of you for that." Marlie didn't know what to say then, so the next few minutes followed in silence. Finally her mom spoke again, her voice hesitant and guarded. "When I was your age, right after my friend Lilly had been killed, I went to a party. The 09ers . . . they hadn't been — they hadn't been treating me well, because my dad had accused Jake Kane."

Marlie knew that. She nodded, waiting for more. "But I went to a party to show I didn't care," her mom slowly went on. "And I . . . I took a random drink." She looked at Marlie with meaningful eyes and it took Marlie a moment to realize what her mom was trying to say.

"You mean —?" Marlie began, her eyes going wide in disbelief.

"I don't remember much after that," her mom continued. "I woke up the next morning in a bedroom of the house all by myself and without any underwear." Marlie felt horror run through her. How had she never known? All those times she had dismissed her mother's warnings, and all along . . . her mother must hate her!

"Mom, I'm so sorry —!" Marlie told her.

Veronica shook her head, reaching across the table and grabbing Marlie's hand. "It's okay," she assured. "I discovered the truth. I moved on and I was okay. It was a long time ago. But I never wanted that to happen to you, Marlie. I never even wanted you to know because I didn't want you to know that pain. I didn't want you to be jaded and hurt the way I was.

"I didn't understand it until you were born and you won't until you have a kid," her mom said, squeezing Marlie's hand, "but when you have a baby, when there's this tiny little life that is so helpless . . . you look at her and you know you'd do anything for her." Tears had begun to well in her mom's eyes, and the hand that wasn't grasping Marlie's hand was resting on her large, pregnant stomach.

"I never wanted what happened to me to happen to other girls," Veronica said, "and I tried to help other girls; I stopped the Hearst rapist and . . . but it was different with you. I had to protect you. I thought it was hard surviving the bad things that happened to me. But surviving all of that would be nothing in comparison to surviving bad things happening to you."

Somewhere along the line, Marlie had begun to cry, too.

"About Lianne, about your mom —," Veronica began.

"No," Marlie shook her head. She wanted to tell Veronica that she was her mother. She liked Lianne, she did, she probably even loved her. But Veronica Echolls was her mother. She couldn't deny it. She didn't get the chance to say the words, though.

The door swung open and Grandpa Keith came into the room shouting, "I've got bagels!"

He stopped short when he saw them at the kitchen table, tears on their cheeks and their hands linked. "Hi Dad," her mom greeted softly, finally releasing Marlie's hands to wipe at her cheeks. "How are you?"

"I'm fine, Hon. Hi Marlie." He smiled at her and she knew that he knew about last night. Someone must have called him.

"Hi Grandpa," she said, giving him a soft smile. He placed the bagels on the table, pressing a kiss to her head as he did so. She hadn't seen him since she'd moved to Lianne's either. How had she abandoned her family so completely? Even her grandpa, who had never done a single thing to hurt her.

"So," her grandpa began as he sat down. "Where's Logan?"

She slowly put the phone down. Something must have happened at the party. Right? But why wouldn't Marlene come home? A cynical voice in her head told her that Marlene did go home, but home wasn't with her. She sighed. There was no way to . . . maybe it would have been better for her never to have come back to Neptune.

She had thought that often in the time since her return.

But how could she resist? She really was sober. She was finally rid of Craig, and she was tired of sacrificing everything. And Marlene had understood, Marlene had . . . had moved in with her, had let her be a mother again. At least, she had until she spent the night with Logan and Veronica.

The doorbell rang. Wondering if it was Marlene — hoping it was Marlene — she slowly stood and answered the door. She hadn't expected to see Logan Echolls standing on her door mat staring at her. "Hi Lianne," he said. "Can I come in?"

It took her a moment to gather her wits. "Ah . . . of course, of course, come in," she finally said, stepping aside and opening the door wide enough to allow him entrance. He really was tall. She lead him to her living room. Marlene's backpack was leaning against the couch. He stared at it for a moment. "Would you — would you like something to ear or drink or —?"

"I'm fine, thanks," he replied. She nodded nervously.

"Well, then, please just . . . have a seat," she offered. He sat on the couch and she slowly sank into the opposite chair. What was he doing here? It had to be about Marlene. It had to be. He was a handsome man, in his own way. He had been a cute kid, all knees and elbows. She could still remember him coming over to the house to play video games with Veronica. She would tease her daughter about it, asking if she liked-liked Logan, and Veronica would always say. "Mom! Logan likes Lilly."

Then Veronica had started dating Duncan and Logan had started dating Lilly and the four of them were inseparable but Lianne couldn't stand to see them together, because. . . . A lot had changed since then. Logan Echolls had gone from the twelve-year-old who played video games with her daughter to the man who married her older daughter and raised her younger one. And now he was sitting on her couch in her living room and staring intently at her. She shifted nervously. "Do you —?" she began.

He cut her off. "My daughter was attacked last night." She stared at him in shock. "My daughter." His eyes were burning. "I let her move in with you because it was what she wanted. But it's your job to protect her — I'm not sure how much experience you have in this, but mothers are supposed to protect their children." His voice was cutting.

"I didn't —" she said, shaking her head.

"She's a kid. Do you understand that? She's a kid. She might not realize it, but she still needs people to take care of her. You want to show up out of the blue and take her away from the people raised her and have been taking care of her for the last sixteen years? Fine. But that means you have to start taking care of her."

"If I had known —" she started, swallowing thickly, her mind whirling with images of all the horrible things that could have happened to Marlene. "Is she okay?"

"Is she okay? You're asking that now? Yeah, she's okay, but you're a little late in asking. Weren't you worried about her? She's a teenager who didn't come home! Didn't you care even a little?"

"Of course I cared!" she protested. "But I went to bed a few hours after she left and I didn't realize that she hadn't come home until —"

"Who's her father?" he asked abruptly, taking her by surprise. "Is he going to come looking for her? Is he going to try and take her away from me?"

"No, he's not, I swear, he's not," she assured him.

"Who is he?" he pressed, staring at her so keenly she felt at any moment he would lunge and attack her. But he wouldn't. She knew that. She knew the sort of men that hit women, and one look at him revealed he wasn't that sort of man. Still, he was so angry and. . . . It wasn't her fault! She had tried so hard to make amends and. . . . "Who is he?"

"Jake Kane."

There. She had said it. She had admitted it. He stared at her for a moment, as if he had half-known what she would say but now that she had he could barely believe it. "Jake Kane," he repeated slowly, as if trying to process the information. She stood, crossing her arms over her chest and looking out the window.

Maybe if she just said it all, it could finally be put to bed and. . . .

"I love him. Even after all these years, I love him." The words came out at a near whisper. "I probably always will. I always have. I loved Keith, too, but Jake just . . . if there's such a thing as soul mates, I think he's mine." Logan said nothing and if he had any sort of reaction to her words, she didn't see. She only stared out the window, remembering.

"I ended up with my college sweetheart Craig after I left Keith and Veronica. He lost his job, though, and he started hitting me and I left him and ended up . . . ended up with Jake. It was only for a few weeks. He — he finally told me it was a bad idea. Said he was working on his marriage with Celeste." She felt bitterness rise in her. What was so amazing about Celeste?

"I went back to Craig. I had no where else to turn, and he promised me . . . he promised me he wouldn't hurt me again. I found out I was pregnant a few weeks later, he didn't keep his promise and I . . . I wound up going to the last safe place I knew: Keith."

She finally turned back to him. He sat on the couch, watching her. "I wanted to start over. But Veronica wouldn't let me. And I didn't belong with her or Keith anymore. I hadn't in a long time. So I had the baby and I left with her, hoping at least Veronica could thank me for that, but . . . but I couldn't do it on my own. I was so lonely and scared and —" She felt tears building; she could still remember vividly how she sat in the hotel room by herself, desperate to make Marlene stopping crying and just wanting something to drink and someone to take care of her.

"I shouldn't have just left her there. But I didn't know what else to do. It was so hard to just leave . . . just like it was hard to walk out on Veronica all those years ago but I . . . I knew if I went back to Craig with a baby he would hurt her and. . . ."

"But you went back to him," Logan said, finally speaking again. "You went back to a man that hit you." She could see the disgust in his eyes. He must think her as weak as Veronica imagined her to be; he did, after all, marry her tough, hardened daughter. He would expect nothing less of women than to be as tough as his wife.

"I never said I was proud of the decisions I've made," she said, bitterness thick on her tongue again. Her life hadn't exactly turned out the way she planned. It was silent for a moment.

"Does . . . does Jake know?" Logan finally asked. "Does he know that Marlie is . . . ?"

"He knows. I told him, when she was about three, that . . . I missed her so much and I hoped maybe that he . . . I thought it would. . . ." She had gone to see him at his office. She had been planning it for weeks, planning how she would reveal the truth to him. He had lost his daughter to murder and his son had runaway but she . . . she could give him a new hope, a new child. He would take her away from Craig and they would get Marlene and raise her together and maybe together they would even find Duncan and. . . .

He hadn't reacted like that at all. Not even close.

"What did he say?" pressed Logan.

"He said he couldn't handle a daughter. He said it sounded as if I had already given her up and that it wouldn't be easy to get her back and maybe it would be better for everyone if . . . if he didn't claim her." The silence that came then threatened to stretch into forever. "He even," she said at long last, willing her voice not to tremble, "he even offered me money."

She still couldn't believe he had done that to her. Had treated her like that. He was not the man she had known in high school. He was a broken shell of that man, and Lianne hated Celeste for what he had become. "I didn't take it," she went on, "but when Craig died last year he left all sorts of debts and I . . . I went back to Jake and demanded the money. He gave it. I used it to. . . ." She met Logan's gaze.

"Craig couldn't hurt me or Marlene once he was dead, and with the money I could support myself and I could . . . it was my real chance to start over, don't you see? Marlene and I could start fresh! I never meant to hurt Veronica or Keith or anyone but . . . I waited a long time to get my baby back."

Logan nodded slowly and stood. "Marlie didn't need to start fresh. She had us. She still does. If you want to be a part of her life and she doesn't mind, then that's fine. But Veronica will always be her mom. And she's not Jake Kane's daughter. She's my daughter. I wanted her; I claimed her. That's not going to change because your circumstances have."

He turned away from her, not giving her a chance to say a word, and started out of the living room. He grabbed Marlene's backpack as he went. She wanted to say something; she wanted to stop him. Desperation clawing at her insides, she called out his name, following hot on his heels.

He turned to her with one hand on the doorknob. "Just imagine that — Veronica's pregnant, right?" He nodded silently. "Okay and, and just imagine that the only way to keep that baby safe was to give her up. To let someone else raise her. You would do it, wouldn't you? But — but the moment you had the chance you would want her back."

"It's not that simple, Lianne," he told her. "You didn't have to go back to Craig. No one was forcing you. That was your choice. It was a fucking stupid choice, even if you were smart enough to know you couldn't take Marlie with you. But it was your choice. And honestly? Even if you didn't have a choice, Marlie's a person. You can't expect her to live her life according to yours. Once you do something, you can't always go back and fix everything."

He left then, before she could stop him. Not that she had the right words to stop him. She didn't have any words. And for what was surely the millionth time, Lianne wished that she could close her eyes and open them to a new world, to a better world, to one that had gone another way, a different way, any other way.

"Mommy, if you could have anything in the whole world, what would it be?" Marlie asked. They were sitting on a bench, waiting for Logan to return. They had celebrated the New Year with dinner and a movie and were now walking along the beach. They'd had to make a pit stop for ice cream, though. Logan had been sent on the errand.

Marlie was wrapped up in her brand new Christmas coat, a bright blue and green knit hat from Alicia on her head and her beloved stuffed panda clutched tightly under one arm. Her cheeks were pink from the cold but she looked up at Veronica eagerly. "Mommy?"

"Anything at all?" Veronica asked. "Hmm, I don't know. That's a pretty big question. A pony, maybe."

"A pony?" Marlie repeated, her eyes wide with wonder. "What sort of pony?"

"A pretty pony," Veronica answered knowingly.

"I want a pony, too!" Marlie exclaimed. Veronica only grinned. "But I want something else, too," Marlie went on, looking as if she had rehearsed this. "Ask me what I want, Mommy."

"What do you want?" Veronica asked.

"No, ask me what I want more than anything in the whole world. Even more than a pony!" Marlie looked up at her as if it were the most important question in the world. Giving a puzzled smile, Veronica played along.

"What do you want more than anything in the whole world?" she asked.

Sitting up straight, Marlie told her importantly, "For you to marry Daddy."

Veronica stared.

"And I've pa-papared a list of reasons why you should," Marlie went on, and it was clear she was not coming up with this on her own. Veronica was still dumbstruck "First, it's easy for you to pay taxes. And get health 'surance and stuff." Veronica couldn't help but smile a little at that.

"Is that so?"

"Mmm-hmm," Marlie nodded.

"Second, Mommies and Daddies are su'posted to be married," Marlie told her, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah, Mommy, everybody knows that!"

"Wow. Everybody?"

"Everybody." She smiled at Veronica.

"Are there any other reasons?"

"Oh! Yeah!" she said, her eyes bright. "Also number third, you should marry Daddy 'cause you love him lots and people who love each other lots should be married, like Grandpa Keith and Grandma Alicia. And —"

It was then that Marlie glanced past her and Veronica realized her little four-year-old was looking at someone else. Veronica whipped her head around and found a smirking Logan standing a few feet away. "How long have you been standing there?" Veronica demanded.

"I think I can take it from here, Marlie."

"Did I do a good job?" asked Marlie as he came to stand in front of the bench.

"You did a very good job."

"Thank you!"

"You're welcome." Logan faced Veronica. He got down on one knee.

"How long have you been planning this?" she asked. She couldn't believe she hadn't seen this coming. She had been sure she would know weeks in advance; he was never any good at keeping things from her, not even surprises. He only smiled, not answering her question.

"Veronica Mars," Logan began. "When I first met you, your hair was in pigtails, you had grass stains on your knees, and you were the hottest soccer player I'd ever seen."

"Logan . . ."

"Now we've had a rocky relationship and I'll be the first to admit that I did not see this moment coming for a very long time. But I love you, Veronica. I love everything about you, even your ingrained suspicious paranoia. I've had my heart broken, by you and by others, but as long as I've got you, I'll be okay. I'm ready for a lifetime of Veronica Mars." He pulled out a box, opening it to reveal the ring. "Marry me, Veronica."

"I . . . I can't believe this," Veronica finally said. He was grinning up at her. She glanced down at the ring. It twinkled up at her tastefully. He always did have good tastes in jewelry. She had known he would propose to her eventually; they were raising a kid together, for God's sake. . . .

But marriage was still so. . . .

"Mommy, do you want to know what I think?" Marlie asked. She scooted closer to Veronica on the bench until she was right up beside her. She tugged at Veronica's sleeve. "Mommy!"

"What do you think?" Veronica asked, not taking her eyes away from Logan on bended knee and the ring in his hand.

"I think you should marry him," Marlie said. "I would, but Daddy says I'm too little to be married. He says I can't get married 'till I'm forty." Veronica chuckled despite herself, and she and Logan both glanced at the little toddler who was smiling at them, so pleased with her performance.

Veronica met Logan's gaze again. When she'd first kissed him, when they'd gone out, when they'd come together again the summer before Hearst, all along, she'd been unable to imagine marrying him . . . or anyone, for that matter. Marriage was a reckless endeavor; it was just setting yourself up for disappointment and heart ache.

But at that moment, she saw it.

She saw herself marrying Logan Echolls and it . . . it wasn't so scary.

"Veronica?" Logan asked. There was the first trace of doubt in his voice. "I don't care when or where. I just want to be married to you."

Veronica turned to Marlie. "You know what I want more than anything in the whole world?" she asked her daughter, smiling and trying not to cry. She so did not need to start crying.

"A pony?" Marlie guessed.

"Even more than a pony," said Veronica.

"What?" asked Marlie.

"To marry your daddy."

"To — to marry — YAY! Did you hear that, Daddy? Did you hear it? It worked! Our plan worked!" Marlie jumped from the bench, twirling around in excitement.

"I heard it, baby," Logan said, his eyes on Veronica. She smiled at him, her hand clasping over the ring box. The next thing she knew, he was kissing her. Her arms were wrapped around his neck, the velvet box clutched tightly in her hand, and she was kissing him at nine o'clock at night on a bench in the middle of the street.

And she was barely conscious of Marlie standing up on the bench, shouting out to the passersby, "MY MOMMY AND DADDY ARE GETTING MARRIED!"

"What do you want to know?"

Her parents sat side by side on the couch, looking at her, ready for any questions. This is what she had wanted all along. Why had it taken so long?

"Why did Lianne leave you when you were my age?" she asked. Had Veronica truly been threatened? It wasn't as if Marlie didn't believe the older woman; she simply knew there was more to the story . . . there had to be more to the story.

"Celeste Kane wanted to get rid of her," her mom answered. "I should have told you this when Lianne first came back but . . . there was a time, when I was your age, when I didn't know if your grandpa Keith was really my father."

Marlie could only stare. "What . . .?"

"Lianne cheated on Keith," her father said, picking up where his wife had left off. "She didn't know if he was really Veronica's father and it didn't come out until we were in high school. And Lianne was . . . she —"

"She was cheating on him again, with Jake Kane, again. She claims she wasn't, but . . . but Celeste tried to get rid of her with threatening photos of me," her mom explained. "That's why she fled. Celeste told her to or else."

Marlie was barely listening; her mind was stuck on the fact that had just been revealed. "Grandpa Keith isn't your real dad?" she asked.

"No, no," Veronica said, "he is. I didn't know it for a while, but there eventually was a paternity test and he was proved to be my father. Even if he hadn't been, though, biologically, I mean, he still would have been my father. But I . . . it made me resent Lianne, because not only had she left, but she had — she nearly took away my father, who had stayed, who was all I had at that point."

There was silence as Marlie tried to take it in. "When did she come back? Lianne?" she finally asked.

"I found her," Veronica said. "I had been looking for her ever since she'd left. I finally found her, got the full story out of her. But she was an alcoholic and she needed help. I paid for her to get sober. I wanted her to come home. I wanted my mom back."

"But when she came home —," Marlie said, trying to put all the pieces together.

"She was still an alcoholic," her mom told her, nodding. "She had wasted my money."

Again, no one said anything immediately.

"It was around the same time," Veronica finally went on, "that we discovered who really killed Lilly. Apparently Lianne couldn't handle it all, because she left again, taking with her what little money your grandpa and I had. I didn't see her again until she came to us six months pregnant."

"And how — how old was I when she left?"

"She actually . . . she took you with her when she left the hospital," Veronica said, and it seemed suddenly as if it pained her to speak of it all. "Two weeks later you were found alone in a hotel room. We didn't see or hear from her again until she came back a few months ago."

"She left me in a . . . hotel room?" Marlie asked in disbelief.

"There was a note," her dad said. "Your grandpa saved it and he gave it to us to show you." He held the folded paper out to her, and the room was quiet as she took it, slowly unfolding it and reading it. Her mother sounded as if she really loved her, but . . . but a hotel room? What if someone had taken her and . . . done something . . . bad or something?

"So . . . you two decided that you would raise me instead?" she asked, handing the note back to her father.

"Simply put," her mom replied, "yes." Her mom sighed. "There's something you need to understand. I was the only person who could be your legal guardian, but Keith still could have been the one to raise you. But he didn't because I . . . I chose to raise you. I wanted to."

Marlie didn't want to start crying again. She really didn't. She wouldn't. She refused.

"Do you, ah, do you have any other questions?" her dad finally asked.

"Do you ever wish," Marlie began softly, looking down at her chipped blue nail polish, "some times . . . do you ever wish you hadn't decided to raise me?" She met her mother's gaze at last. It was a stupid question, she knew, but. . . .

"There are lots of things I regret in my life," Veronica said slowly, "so much I would change and do differently, and I think sometimes I think about all the things I would change too much. But one thing that I have never, ever regretted and never will is my decision to raise you as mine. Never, Marlie. Not once. I promise you: you have never been a regret." She spoke with such conviction, her eyes so fierce, that Marlie felt the words burn into her.

Veronica glanced at Logan and when Marlie did the same he looked back and forth between them for a minute before telling her, pointing his thumb at her mom, "What she said." Marlie let out a soft chuckle, Veronica shook her head at him, and he smiled at her.

"So," her mom asked, "does this mean you're coming home?"

She went to Lianne's house. She had talked with her parents but she still needed to talk with Lianne. She still had questions. Lianne hugged her when she arrived at her house and it was awkward. Though Marlie had been living with her, they hadn't often showed one another any real physical affection.

"I was so worried about you," Lianne told her as they sat down in the kitchen and Lianne gave her a diet Dr. Pepper. "Is everything okay? Do you want to talk about what happened?"

"No, I . . . I'm okay. It's gonna be okay." She popped open her soda can but didn't make a move to drink from it. "I actually wanted to talk to you about . . . about everything. I'm just so . . . confused and I don't even know what to think or feel anymore." She finally looked up at Lianne. "I really want to get to know you. And I . . . I want to be a — a daughter to you, but I don't think . . . I don't want to hurt you, but I don't think I belong here."

"Sweetheart," Lianne said softly, reaching for Marlie and grasping her hand. "I know that this is hard for you. I know it's a lot to handle and that it's a lot of change. And I would never ask anything of you that you couldn't handle. But . . . moving in here, it was a big deal, and it's going to take some time to get used to."

Marlie didn't know what to say. Lianne seemed to realize that. She stood slowly and went to the pantry under the stairs. "What are you doing?" Marlie called as she heard Lianne began to rummage around out of view. A moment later she emerged holding a shoebox.

She placed it down on the table and pushed it towards Marlie. "I think this will help."

Marlie felt she was entering a world she didn't want to enter when she lifted the lid off the box, but she couldn't say no. The box was filled to the brim with things. There was a blanket, a soft pink one that seemed new it had been used so little.

"That's your baby blanket," Lianne told her. "I took it with me when I . . . when I was so selfish as to leave you. I thought you would be better off with Keith and Veronica, but I knew I was going to miss you so much, so I took the blanket because it smelled like you."

Marlie gingerly lifted the blanket from the box. She already had a baby blanket. It had dancing penguins on it. Her dad had gotten it for her, and it was so tattered and frayed now that it looked pathetic. But she still kept it in her room, a fond reminder of the childhood she had loved. This blanket didn't remind her of anything at all. But it was soft and . . . and there were tears in Lianne's eyes.

She put the blanket aside gently and reached into the shoebox for a stack of pictures. The first showed a tall man with black hair. He wore jeans and a black t-shirt; his hands were greasy and he was leaning against a partially restored car. "That's Craig," Lianne murmured. Marlie stared at the picture for a moment, finally putting it aside to find a picture of a tiny little baby held in Lianne's arms.

"Is this . . . ?" she began.

"You?" Lianne said, a slight smile to her voice. "Yes, that's you in the hospital on the day you were born. You were such a beautiful baby." Marlie stared at the picture for a long time. There was one just like it, framed and sitting on her grandpa's mantel. But in his picture it wasn't Lianne holding a little newborn Marlie; it was Veronica.

Before Marlie could go to the next photo, however, her eyes caught on something else in the box. A stack of letters tied with a ribbon sat innocently there in that box, and clear on the top envelope was black cursive writing that said Return to sender. Marlie put the pictures aside, reaching in for the letters. As she had suspected, they were all addressed to Keith or Veronica or even Marlene Mars. They were all from Lianne. And they all were unopened with the words Return to sender written on them.

"What are these?" Marlie breathed.

"Letters that I wrote to you. I sent them to Marlene Mars at first, but when that didn't get me anywhere I tried writing to Keith and Veronica. Every single letter was sent back unopened." Her voice was soft and sad. "The first one is from when you were only two. I eventually gave up a few years later. I knew no one would ever show you the letters or answer any of my . . . questions. I wasn't going to take you away from them; I just . . . I wanted to make sure you were okay, but. . . ."

"You sent them letters and they never told me?" Marlie asked, frowning as she finally looked away from the letters to look up at Lianne. "They never even read a single one?"

"The first. I should have said that. The first was opened. But that was it." She came to sit beside Marlie at the table. "You can read them now. I know this might be too little, too late, but I want you to know that even if I wasn't around, I always cared about you."

Marlie couldn't believe it. She had just talked to her parents. They had made it clear that they hadn't heard from Lianne after she'd left Marlie with them. But they had heard from her. Lianne hadn't completely abandoned her. "Do you want to stay for dinner?" Lianne asked softly.

"I need to talk to my parents," Marlie said, standing up abruptly and clutching the letters to her chest. "But I'll . . . I'll come back for dinner, okay?" She mustered a smile for Lianne, and the older woman smiled in return, nodding.

"Okay."

She sped the entire way back to her house. Why did this all have to happen to her? Why couldn't everything just go back to a mere semblance of normalcy? Why did the hits have to keep coming? She pushed open the backdoor and entered the kitchen, the letters heavy in her hand. Her mother was making dinner. "Marlie!" her mom exclaimed happily on sight of her. "I was hoping you'd be back in time. We're going Italian tonight."

"Where's Dad?" Marlie asked. Veronica must have noticed her mood, because her mother frowned, wiping her hands on a dish towel and coming towards Marlie.

"He and Ben went to pick up Jason from basketball practice. Is everything okay? Did something happen?"

"How come you didn't tell me about the letters?" Marlie demanded. "You made it sound like Lianne abandoned me without looking back but she didn't! She sent letters and you — I know you love me, but how could you still be lying to me?"

Her mom shook her head slowly, her eyes wide. "I have no idea what you're —"

Marlie thrust the letters at her and her mom took them hesitantly, her frown deepening as she began to flip through the letters. She finally looked back at Marlie. "I swear I have never seen these," she said. "I swear."

"Then who sent them back? Dad?"

"No, he would have — he would have told me. No. Neither of us ever saw these letters. I swear, Marlie. We haven't lied to you. Everything we know, you know," her mother assured. She looked as if she really meant what she said, but. . . .

"Was it Grandpa, then? It was him, wasn't it?" Marlie asked. It made sense. If Lianne thought Keith was raising Marlie then of course she would send the letters there.

"Your grandpa wouldn't do this," Veronica said, shaking her head. "Just calm down. We'll figure this out. Here, have a glass of water and just sit down and —"

"No," Marlie said, snatching the pictures from her mother before Veronica could stop her. "I need to talk to Grandpa. I can't believe he would do this."

"Marlie!" her mother yelled. "Marlie, stop —"

Marlie slammed the door shut behind her. But she didn't slam it fast enough, because she still heard the sudden shatter of glass, the sound piercing through her. Had her mother thrown something at her? Marlie turned and tore the door back open, only to freeze, horror flooding her.

"Mom!"

The shatter she had heard was the sound of a water glass falling to the ground and breaking. It had fallen because her mother had dropped it. And her mother . . . her mother was lying on the ground, her face contorted in pain, her arm wrapped around her stomach.

A/N: There's only one chapter left! One last memory, one last final twist, and one last decision Marlie must make! Please review : )

if i could name you in this song, would it make you smile and sing along?

Fic: Truth Be Told, part 9