The issue of holding Warner accountable had already been put to rest the moment Cathy arrived home. Susan's concern was merely a reflection of her love for her daughter. Now that her daughter was back safe and sound, Warner could be left alone.
Since her mother no longer brought up the topic, Catherine was happy to avoid further discussion. When her father got home, the whole family had dinner together, marking the first time they'd done so since she left for New York to shoot the film. The atmosphere was warm and joyful.
After dinner, Catherine chatted with her parents for a bit before retreating to her room. She was afraid that if the topic of filmmaking came up, her mother might bring up the accident again, which would be a hassle. Besides, during her month-long shoot, she had lost contact with everyone outside of her family, so there was a lot to catch up on now that she was back.
First, there was a pile of letters that needed immediate responses. Kate's letter had been sitting there for half a month. However, when Catherine picked up the pen to write back, she found herself with a lot to say but no idea how to express it. In the end, she sighed and scribbled something down. Damn it, how could she be this sentimental—wasn't she supposed to be a man? Well, technically speaking, she wasn't.
Shaking her head helplessly, Catherine moved on to the other letters. One was from Rowling, who expressed deep gratitude to Catherine. Several single mothers' aid organizations had provided Rowling with considerable support, indicating that her uncle had indeed fulfilled her request. Did this mean she would have to invite Julia to her birthday party? What a troublesome uncle.
The next letter was from Edward. The boy seemed to be quite patient, sending her exactly two letters a week. Catherine hesitated for a moment, then decided to invite him to her birthday party—he would make a good test subject.
As she thought about this, she stopped writing and bit the end of her pen, her thoughts drifting. She would see Jessica at school tomorrow. What should she say to her? During the month of filming, Jessica had called home several times asking for her contact information. However, because of a certain matter, Catherine had repeatedly asked her parents not to give it to her, so they hadn't been in touch.
Jessica wouldn't be angry with her over this, of course, but the years they had spent together made Catherine feel a bit melancholic. Although she had decided to face her true self, she couldn't fully open up just yet…
Feeling bored, Catherine pulled out another letter. Huh, it was from Lindsay. She couldn't help but think sarcastically—just after dealing with one lesbian encounter, another one was coming her way. Even though she knew Lindsay wouldn't become a lesbian for at least another decade, Catherine still found herself thinking this way. As she recalled their Halloween meeting last year, which had already grown a bit hazy, she could vaguely remember her thoughts from back then. It seemed that her restrictive feelings toward men had also caused some skewed thinking in other areas.
She pulled out another letter—again from Lindsay. Another one—still from Lindsay. Catherine was a bit taken aback, noticing the dates on the letters were less than four days apart. Had something happened?
Just then, there was a knock on the door. Catherine looked up to see Aunt Jennifer.
"Cathy, your friend is here," Jennifer said.
"A friend? Now?" Catherine checked the time; it had just passed 8 PM. Who would come so late?
"Alright, I'll be right there." Catherine nodded, hurriedly tidied up the scattered letters and papers on her desk, and then left her room to go downstairs. But when she saw the girl sitting in the center of the living room, chatting politely with her mother, she nearly missed a step and fell down the stairs. That striking red hair—who else could it be but Lindsay Lohan?!
Damn, I was just thinking about reading her letters! Catherine couldn't believe her eyes as she leaned against the banister, staring down at the scene below. She could almost feel something pulsing on her forehead.
"Hey, sweetheart, come on down!" Her mother happened to look up at that moment and noticed her.
Initially, Catherine had wanted to stall for time and figure out why Lindsay was here, but now she had no choice but to shrug and head down. She could feel the red-haired girl on the couch instantly lock her gaze on her.
After giving her mother a smile, Catherine turned to Lindsay. "Hey, Lindsay, how are you?"
She had originally intended to ask her directly why she was here, but when she saw the flash of fear and helplessness in Lindsay's eyes, the question caught in her throat. Sighing inwardly, Catherine looked back at her mother, putting on a playful expression. "Mom, can we go to my room?"
"Of course, sweetheart." Elena hadn't noticed anything unusual. Lindsay's polite demeanor had left a good impression on her, so she nodded.
Catherine shrugged and took Lindsay's hand. "Alright, let's go upstairs and talk."
Once the bedroom door was closed, Catherine could clearly sense Lindsay's sigh of relief, which only piqued her curiosity further—why had she chosen this time to come over?
But Lindsay quickly masked her emotions, adopting a curious expression as she looked around the room. She then sat down at the desk and said with a grin, "Your house is really beautiful, Catherine."
Noticing the piano nearby, she exclaimed in surprise, "You play the piano? That means you're good at music too!"
"Alright, Lindsay, why did you come to my house alone? Where are your parents?" Catherine, of course, wasn't going to let her change the subject.
"Um, I've never been to your house before, so I thought... I'd come visit you," Lindsay replied cautiously, her eyes shifting nervously.
"That's a pretty lousy excuse, Lindsay. I don't think any child would go to someone else's house alone at night, and no parent would allow their kid to be this reckless," Catherine bluntly exposed her lie. "What's your home phone number?"
"Don't do this, Catherine." Lindsay jumped up, her small face filled with anxiety.
"I have to. If you don't tell me, I'll have to ask my mom to send you home." Catherine crossed her arms. It wasn't that she disliked Lindsay—after all, this Lindsay wasn't the future party queen yet—but as she had just pointed out, a 7- or 8-year-old girl wandering around alone at night, without her parents knowing, was not a good thing.
"Please, Catherine, don't do this. Let me stay here for one night, just one night. I won't cause any trouble," Lindsay suddenly pleaded, tears rolling down her cheeks. "I don't want to go back, not at all!"
Lindsay's sudden tears left Catherine at a loss for what to do. She stood frozen for a couple of seconds before hurriedly grabbing some tissues, intending to wipe away Lindsay's tears. But just as she approached her, Lindsay suddenly threw her arms around Catherine, sobbing into her embrace.
Catherine smiled wryly. Just two days ago, she had been the one crying in someone else's arms, and now, here was someone crying in hers. Was this all prearranged? She shook her head and gently patted Lindsay's back, whispering soothing words like, "It's alright, it's okay, don't cry."
After about five minutes, Lindsay finally stopped sobbing and pulled away from Catherine's embrace. In the process, she had smeared her tears all over her face, turning it into a mess.
"I'm really sorry... for dirtying your clothes. I... I'll leave now, sorry to have disturbed you," the girl said softly, wiping her face with her sleeve and making to leave. But Catherine immediately held her back, pushing her back into the chair without giving her a chance to protest. "Tell me, what happened?"
Not waiting for Lindsay to respond, she repeated more firmly, "Tell me, what happened?"
Perhaps Catherine's tone was too forceful, because Lindsay flinched slightly and looked down, biting her lip. "My... my parents were fighting. They were fighting really badly. I couldn't stop them. Dad drank a lot, just like he used to. He was yelling and almost hit Mom. I hate him. I hate the way he is now. I remember when he used to..."
The red-haired girl murmured, as if lost in her memories, her expression slightly dazed. Meanwhile, Catherine's heart was in turmoil. In her previous life, aside from The Parent Trap, her most vivid memory of Lindsay was that song. Lindsay had poured all her resentment toward her father and her longing for his love into that song, a testament to how deeply her family life had affected her.
Thinking about how her father had later made headlines for assaulting a janitor while drunk and had been sent to jail, which eventually led to his divorce, Catherine could only imagine the immense damage he had caused her. Lindsay's later behavior—her drinking, drug use, and reputation as a party girl—was undoubtedly connected to this.
Feeling a pang of sorrow, Catherine hugged Lindsay tightly and said gently, "Sweetheart, don't be sad. If you want, you can stay here. I'll explain everything to my mom."
"Really... really?" Lindsay whispered.
"Of course. Mom will agree, as long as your parents don't come looking for you." Catherine smiled, gently brushing her hand across Lindsay's cheek and blinking playfully, trying to cheer her up.
"They won't. I'm the one who checks the mail at home. Every time there's a letter from you, I'm the first to take it to my room." The red-haired girl hurriedly replied, finally showing a smile.
"Then it's settled. I'll ask Aunt Jennifer to prepare a room for you." Catherine said, turning to leave.
But Lindsay quickly called out to her, "Ca... Cathy!" She hesitated for a moment before nervously asking, "Can I... Can I sleep with you?"