Smallara Bonus Episode: Consequences 2

This is the final official episode of the year. We will back in January with new episodes. I hope everyone has a wonderful holiday season. I will try to sneak in some fun updates over the break. 

Jordan was perched on Sara’s shoulder like a small, steady weight that kept her from floating away.

She had her bookbag slung over one shoulder and a duffle over the other, the straps biting into her sweatshirt. When she shut the car door, the sound was too loud in the quiet suburban air, like punctuation after a sentence nobody wanted to finish.

The Montgomery-Ward house rose ahead of them, immaculate and bright with late-afternoon light. It was nothing like Chloe’s place, which felt less like a house and more like a private universe with tax benefits. This was “obtainable” wealth, the kind that still pretended it could be normal if it tried hard enough.

A half-moon driveway curved toward a three-stall garage. The two-story façade had big bay windows that looked out over the yard like patient eyes. Everything was tidy, landscaped, deliberate. The kind of home that smelled like lemon cleaner and stability.

To Jordan, stability always looked enormous.

Sara climbed the steps, hesitated for a half-second, then lifted her hand to knock.

The door swung open before her knuckles even landed.

Ellie wrapped Sara in a hug so fast it felt like an interception. “You’re here.”

Sara made a small sound into Ellie’s shoulder, something between a laugh and a relieved exhale.

Ellie’s hand appeared beneath Jordan like a familiar elevator. He stepped into her palm automatically, because Sara was going to want both hands free, and because Ellie’s hand always felt safe. Warm. Steady. That citrus-scented lotion she used was still there, light enough that even Jordan’s too-sharp senses didn’t get overwhelmed by it.

“I’m so glad you two are here,” Ellie said, still holding Sara like she could physically keep her from falling apart. “I’m proud of you, Sara.”

The door clicked shut behind them, and the sound seemed to cut the outside world away.

Ellie’s parents came around the corner a moment later, smiles already on, like they’d been waiting for the cue. Ellie’s mom crossed the room and hugged Sara with the kind of familiarity that made it feel less like a visit and more like coming home.

“Honey,” she said softly, “I’m proud of you. You didn’t do anything wrong. You never need to ask to come or stay. You’re family. You’re my daughter too. The usual room is yours as long as you need it.”

“Thanks, Mrs. Montgomery,” Sara started, then swallowed and corrected herself like it mattered. “Thanks, Mom.”

Ellie’s mom squeezed her a little tighter, approving the correction without making it a thing.

Ellie’s dad stepped in next and pulled Sara into a hug that was gentler than it looked. “Kiddo, your mom will come around,” he said. “She loves you. She’s always been slow with change, and this blindsided her. But you didn’t do anything wrong. You love who you love. You’ve got a big heart.”

Sara’s eyes went glossy. She nodded like her throat couldn’t cooperate.

“We’re happy for you and Chloe,” he added, and his tone made it plain he meant it. “She’s had a good effect on you. You’ve seemed lighter the past few months.”

Jordan watched Sara’s face at that, the way it flinched and softened at the same time. Lighter was true. Lighter was also fragile.

Then Ellie’s mom looked down at Jordan, her smile turning playful. “Oh, Jordy. I just pulled out a batch of homemade little cookies. Double chocolate, chocolate chunk. They’re cooling now. Make sure you get brought down for some.”

Jordan’s stomach betrayed him immediately by trying to climb his ribs. “Oh, I will. Thank you.”

He could already smell them faintly under everything else, warm cocoa and sugar, a scent that belonged to a world where people didn’t ice each other out over toast.

Sara’s grip on her duffle tightened as they started up the stairs. The last couple of days had been rough in a quiet way that felt worse than yelling. Chloe had stayed at Sara’s for most of a day, then had to go back home. The empty space she left behind had been loud.

Ellie walked beside Sara, one hand still curled gently around Jordan like she was carrying something breakable on purpose.

“Not a big deal,” Ellie said as they reached her room, like she could say it enough times to make it true. “They love you. We all do. Your mom is just being your mom. And even now, if something happened, she’d be first in line to defend you. She just wasn’t prepared.”

Sara exhaled through her nose. “Sometimes I think being ‘not prepared’ is her personality.”

Ellie snorted. “Fair.”

Ellie’s room was the opposite of Sara’s. Put together. Coordinated. It looked like an interior designer had made a mood board and then actually followed it.  Light colors, a few darker accents, everything clean except for a small pile of clothes in one corner that seemed strategically placed to prove Ellie was still human.

Ellie shut the door behind them, and the click was another kind of punctuation. Safe-zone punctuation.

Sara’s shoulders dropped a fraction. Not relaxed, but less braced.

Ellie looked at her for a long second, that best friend stare that had seen Sara at her worst and didn’t flinch.

Sara spoke first, quieter. “Ellie, I’m better now. You can’t keep blaming yourself for my attempt.”

Ellie’s face tightened, then softened, like she’d been holding that guilt by the throat for a long time. “I’m not blaming myself. I’m just… refusing to ever be the friend who doesn’t notice again.”

Sara’s eyes flicked away. “I didn’t think about how much it would hurt everyone. I was just lost in my own pain and trying to cover it up.”

“You never have to cover it up with me,” Ellie said, immediate and firm. “Sister pact for life.”

Then Ellie turned toward her nightstand like she’d been waiting for the right moment to deploy a secret weapon.

“Okay,” Ellie said, and her voice brightened in a way that made Jordan suspicious. “Jordy, I’ve been working on something for you for months.”

Jordan’s stomach dropped in that strange way it did when something good was about to happen. Like joy had weight.

Ellie pulled open the nightstand drawer.

The entire inside had been converted into a tiny home.

Not a toy. Not a craft project. A home. Bedroom, kitchenette, living area. Real scaled furniture. A tiny couch with actual cushions. A bed that looked soft enough to swallow a person. Little shelves. Little cabinets. A miniature rug that made Jordan’s brain short-circuit because someone had cared enough to make it feel lived-in.

Ellie kept talking fast, like she had to get the facts out before anyone could stop her.

“Everything’s custom. I had the wood imported. I know a guy who does custom furniture, like actually talented, not Etsy talented. Everything is scaled to you. The drawer bottom got replaced with heated flooring, so it stays a good temp no matter the season. The bed is stupid soft, you basically mold into it. The mattress is the same as mine, just scaled down. I had it made special. They don’t make little beds, but when your family imports their entire supply chain, you can get favors.”

Jordan stared at it, stunned in a way that made him feel oddly naked.

“Ellie…” he managed.

Ellie crouched and met his eyes, serious now. “You’re not just Sara’s little. You’re part of this. I don’t want you to ever feel like an accessory. This is your space. Your home. It’ll always be here.”

Sara leaned over the drawer, eyes wide, a hand over her mouth. “Ellie, this is too much. Jordy, this is incredible.”

“It’s exactly enough,” Ellie said, like that was the end of the debate. Then she smirked. “You can pay me back in sleepovers. Now there is literally no excuse.”

Ellie lowered Jordan into the drawer carefully, like she was setting him into something sacred.

The warmth hit immediately. Not hot, not startling, just a steady, gentle heat rising through the wood. Jordan stood still for a moment, feet planted, letting it seep up into him. His shoulders loosened without his permission. The air smelled like Ellie’s lotion and clean sheets and, faintly, cookies downstairs.

He took a few steps. The floor answered with a satisfying little tok beneath his shoes. Real wood. Real workmanship. Real care.

Up above, Ellie sat down on the bed next to Sara, the mattress creaking with that low thunder that always reminded Jordan how big everything still was.

Ellie’s voice softened. “Okay. We did the wow moment. Now tell me what happened. Like, actually.”

Sara’s hands clenched around her knees. “After Chloe left last night… my dad was fine.”

Ellie rolled her eyes. “Of course he was. Men love being fine. It’s their hobby.”

Sara almost smiled, then the smile collapsed. “My mom wasn’t.”

Jordan walked to the tiny kitchenette and touched the cabinet handle, grounding himself with the physical reality of it. Because the memory of the Reeves breakfast table still had his chest in a vice. Pancakes cooling. Coffee stirring. Silence as a weapon.

Sara’s voice went smaller. “This morning she wouldn’t even say ‘morning.’ She looked through me. Like I was wallpaper.”

Ellie’s jaw tightened. “Like you didn’t exist.”

Sara nodded. “Dad tried to be normal, like pancakes could fix emotional trauma. I asked her if she was really not gonna talk to me, and she said, ‘I’m eating breakfast.’ Like that was an answer.”

Jordan closed his eyes for a second, tasting the old cold fear in his mouth.

Then Sara said the part that still made Jordan’s stomach flip every time.

“I left,” Sara whispered. “I just got up and left.”

Ellie didn’t scold. She didn’t soften it into nothing. She just said it clearly, so Sara didn’t have to.

“And Jordy was still downstairs.”

Jordan paused at the tiny couch, fingers curled against its armrest.

Sara’s breath hitched. “Yeah.”

“I forgot you,” Sara said, and it came out like she was accusing herself of a crime. “I left you on the table like… like a phone charger.”

Jordan looked up through the drawer opening and saw her face above him, red-eyed and raw.

He raised his voice, steady on purpose. “Sara.”

She leaned closer. “Jordy…”

“I was mad,” Jordan said. “I’m not going to pretend I wasn’t. But I also knew why it happened.”

Sara’s eyes squeezed shut. “I hate that I did it.”

“I hate that you were put in a position where your brain did it,” Jordan corrected gently. “That’s different.”

Ellie nodded like she approved of the correction. “Facts.”

Sara wiped her cheeks. “Chloe came and got him. She… talked to my mom.”

Ellie’s eyebrows lifted. “So Chloe went into boss battle mode.”

Sara nodded. “She told her she was turning me into an obstacle course.”

Ellie’s mouth twisted with something like pride. “That is such a Chloe sentence. Polite, lethal, and legally admissible.”

Jordan could still hear Chloe’s voice in that hallway, steady and sharp, the way Tiffany had flinched like armor taking a hit.

Sara’s voice thinned. “My mom said, ‘She could’ve told me.’ Not angry. Just… sad.”

Ellie’s expression softened. “Yeah.”

Sara stared down at Jordan’s little home like it was proof of something she hadn’t earned. “I didn’t keep it from her to punish her. I kept it from her because I was scared.”

Ellie leaned forward, elbows on her knees, voice calm but edged with truth. “Your mom is doing the classic parent thing where she treats your fear like a personal insult. Like you not telling her was about her. It wasn’t. It was about you trying to survive.”

Sara’s jaw tightened. “She kept bringing up sleepovers. Like my whole childhood was secretly… gross.”

Ellie’s eyes flashed. “That part makes me furious. It’s lazy. It’s her brain rewriting your memories so she doesn’t have to sit with the real pain, which is she missed something and it scares her.”

Jordan sat down on the tiny couch, legs dangling, and looked up at Sara. “You didn’t crack the world,” he said quietly. “You removed a lie that was cracking you.”

Sara’s throat worked as she swallowed. “I just want my mom back.”

Ellie’s voice went soft, the kind of soft that didn’t pity. “You might get her back. But it might be a revised edition. Still her. Just… after she catches up.”

A silence settled. Not the Reeves-house silence, sharp and punishing. This one had warmth in it. Permission.

Ellie glanced toward the door like she’d remembered something practical. “Okay, logistics. You’re staying here as long as you want. My mom is already planning your snack schedule, and my dad has decided you are family, which means he is going to aggressively offer you grilled cheese like it’s a sacred ritual.”

Sara let out a small, wet laugh. “That sounds like him.”

Ellie nodded once. “Text your dad. Tell him you’re here so he doesn’t spiral.”

Sara nodded and reached for her phone.

Ellie hesitated a beat, then added carefully, “Do you want to text your mom?”

Sara’s fingers paused. She shook her head. “Not yet.”

Ellie nodded like that answer was allowed to exist. “Okay. Not yet is a real answer.”

Ellie stood. “Cool. I’m going downstairs. I’m getting the double chocolate little cookie for Jordy, and I’m getting you tea that will make your soul feel slightly less like roadkill.”

Sara wiped her cheeks again. “Thanks.”

Ellie paused at the door and looked back, steady-eyed. “You did the hard part. You told the truth.”

Sara’s lips trembled. “It didn’t feel like winning.”

“It wasn’t winning,” Ellie said. “It was survival. That counts.”

The door clicked shut.

Sara leaned over the drawer again, watching him move around a space that had been built for him on purpose.

“I’m sorry,” Sara whispered, the apology aimed at everything.

Jordan looked up and made his voice steady. “I know,” he said. “But you’re still here. That’s the important part.”

For the first time in awhile, the quiet around them didn’t feel like a punishment.

It felt like a reset button someone had finally let them press.

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