In the kitchen.

Cassie let out a sigh as she walked into the house, having had a long day at school. She took off her jacket, but kept her scarf, which she’d been wearing for the past week now, wrapped around her neck. After all, it was covering something she did not want seen by anyone.

“Hey Dad, I’m home!” Cassie called as she made her way toward the kitchen. “How was your da—"

The young blonde stopped, frozen at what she saw. Sitting there, at the kitchen table, his fists resting together shakily next to an empty can of beer, and staring a hole through her was her father. He looked absolutely furious, more-so than he’d ever looked before, and his stare told her that it was specifically to do with her and something she’d done. And as she stood there, looking like a deer in the headlights, she felt her blood run cold, already guessing what this was about.

“...Daddy?” Cassie asked, inadvertently calling him something she only ever called him when something was very wrong, like when she did something bad. “You okay?”

“Sit. Down.” Kenneth ordered, to which Cassie immediately obeyed. “...I want you to tell me what happened a week ago.”

Cassie gulped hard, her knees shaking. “...I-I went on patrol. I know I shouldn’t be these days, but…”

Before the young blonde could finish, she watched as her father angrily slammed a newspaper down onto the table. Cassie had nearly phased through the chair from being startled by such an act, but quickly began to realize what this was really about when she saw the front page. Her whole body tensed up in terror as she looked back to her father.

“...Tell me this is a lie,” Kenneth demanded. “Tell me…you did not do this.”

“I-I didn’t!” Cassie lied, her lip trembling. “I don’t know what they’re talking abou—"

“Take off the scarf,” the former P.I. commanded, his eyes locked onto it.

“...What?” the young woman asked, clutching said piece of clothing. “Daddy, I…Dad, you're crazy.”

“TAKE THE SCARF OFF!” Kenneth shouted, raising his voice louder than his daughter had ever heard him, and making her levitate for a brief moment off the chair before lowering back down into it.

Cassie started to sob, knowing she was caught. There was no running away from this. Even if she fled, all it would do was prove her guilt. So, with tears forming in her eyes, she slowly unwrapped the scarf, revealing the horrid-looking hickeys she’d received one week ago. She tried to construct a lie, to say it wasn’t Fonzie’s handiwork, but then, she knew that, had that been the case, she wouldn’t have tried to hide them.

“...How could you?” Kenneth whispered, shaking his head in disbelief and rage. “How…how could YOU, of all people, do this?”

“...I don’t know,” Cassie admitted, tears running down her face. “I’ve just…I’ve been so depressed, and mad, and lonely…”

“And THAT made it okay?!” her father demanded, slapping the table and standing up, pacing back and forth in the kitchen for a few moments before turning back to face his daughter. “How long has this been going on?!”

“It was just the once!” the Violet Vision insisted, hands in her hair. “I swear!”

“How am I supposed to believe that?!” Kenneth asked, ranting angrily. “How do I know you’re not lying to me right now, like you did not even a minute ago?! Like you’ve been this whole time?! God, are you insane?! Did you even THINK, for one second, that that woman is the one responsible for ALL of that?! That her bullshit is why Olette and her family left?! That she’s the one squeezing down on the cops and the mayor?! That she made your mother run out—"