The plane ride was one of the hardest he had ever been on. Out of worry, he tried calling Cassandra's phone, but she never picked up; the calls didn't even go through. When he called her home, the line was busy, so that also didn't go through. It was the first time it happened, and it was the worst of times because it only served to feed his anxiety that something had gone horribly wrong. Every hour he spent on the plane, he spent it on the edge of his seat, waiting for the trip to be over.

Josephine's letter had done more than unsettle him. It scared him beyond reason, which was impossible because there was a good reason to be scared. The woman was psychotic. Something he had tried to deny for months, she proved in a letter. He still couldn't believe the things she wrote; the ease with which she confessed to her insane, and unwarranted jealousy, was chilling. Even more chilling was that he remembered all the women she mentioned. Some of them were before he even met her. Which meant her seeing him at the charity event was not her first time.

He sat in the car, heading away from the airport and towards Cassandra's house. It was a little farther away than his house, but he wanted to check in on her first to make sure she was alright. His next course of action was to turn Josephine's letter and all the pictures he managed to snag from her hotel over to the police. He could no longer deny that she was dangerous; there were no excuses left. She set all of those on fire.

Maria would probably have a field day when she learned how right she was; she had been the first to try and warn him. Mark had tried, but his point of view was not as in-depth and dark as Maria's had been. Between the both of them, she had been the closest to the truth he didn't see staring him in the face. He groaned and buried his face in his palm, trying not to think back to her letter. It was a difficult task because the thing was in his pocket; he wanted to keep it close to him.

"Sir, I think something is wrong."

Harrison frowned and looked up as the driver approached Cassandra's house. The frown on his face deepened, and his heart dropped as he saw the police cars and firetrucks sitting outside her house. Harrison pulled on the lock and threw the door open, walking past the people crowding the front gate. He could see the residue of a fire, black smoke still rising in the air and the garden blackened with soot. The firemen were packing up, dragging out their hoses and heading for the truck.

He noticed a couple of men by the stairs speaking to a well bundled up Cassandra. She was distraught, her hair wet and straggly on her face, her lips pale, and her eyes bloodshot. There was an ambulance present, but there didn't seem to be anything wrong with her, so he hoped there were no other casualties. They spoke to her for a short time before leaving, along with the firemen and the ambulance.

"Babe." He whispered as he placed an arm over her shoulder, drawing her to his side, so she could rest her head on his chest. He allowed her to cry. "What happened? Where is your mom?"

"She went out earlier today." Cassandra cried, cleaning the tear stains from her face and shaking her head as she faced the garden. Harrison knew how much she loved the garden. "Someone set fire to the garden, but I don't know how they managed it. I think they snuck in over the fence, like last time. I wasn't paying attention. I didn't even see the blaze start; maybe I could have done something."

"Shh, don't do that. Don't blame yourself." He held her again and stroked her hair, looking at the quickly darkening sky. She was shivering still; it made him a little worried for her. Maybe he should have convinced her to go with the ambulance. "Maybe we should have gone to the hospital. Have you called your mother?"

"No." She snivelled, wiping her nose with the back of her hand. "I want to be here when mom comes back. I need to be here for her. That garden wasn't just for me; it was for both of us. I want to know who did this. Someone attacked me."

"What?"

"Someone tackled me into the water and tried to kill me." She choked on a sob then pulled away from him to stand on her feet. The blanket fell off her to the ground. "I was under there, struggling, so I didn't see his face. He had a mask on too, but I managed to fight him off. He wanted to kill me, they set fire to my father's garden, he was responsible for the shooting in Himont, and he is the reason I fell down the stairs."

Harrison's head dropped, and he scratched his fingers over his hair. He got up to walk to the fountain and sit down, looking over at the garden in defeat. "Not he, or at least 'he' wasn't behind all of the planning."

She squinted in confusion. "What are you talking about?"

"It was Josephine." He nodded, folding his arms across his chest. "I don't know what to say to you right now."

"Explain." She lunged at him, and he stood as she grabbed the lapels of his suit, squeezing it between her fingers as she looked up at him. Her eyes were filled with tears and anger, confusion and hurt. "What do you mean she did this? Did she tell you? Did you investigate?"

He shook his head, trying to take her by the shoulders, but she didn't let him hug her. "She wrote me a letter, a very disturbing one."

"I am going to kill her," Cassandra said heavily, her voice hard and angry as she stepped aside from him. He caught her quickly, turning her away from the gate and holding her against him as she continued to struggle. "Let go of me. I am going to make her pay."

"Listen, not like that. I am going to the police with everything."

"She burned my garden, and she pushed me down the stairs. For God sake, Harrison, she is the reason that Keon is in the hospital recovering from a bullet wound." She pushed against him, her fist pounding against his chest, but he kept his hand firmly wrapped around her waist. "Let me go." She sobbed, then screamed, "Let me go."

Harrison pulled her to him, holding her as she struggled and tried to get away. There was no need for her to add to her grief by attacking Josephine because he knew Josephine was incredibly dangerous. It could do her more harm than good. He still hadn't come to terms with it himself. Cassandra's anger was not incomprehensible, she was almost drowned, and there were three attempts against her life. No one knew how long and how many plans Josephine had laid down.

"Please, calm down." He whispered, holding her until all the fight left her. She moved her hands from where they were squished between their chests and dug her fingers into his back. "We will find a way to fix this."

Cassandra sniffed and nodded, lifting herself away to look up at him. He started to say something when an odd sound caused him to raise his head. Harrison saw it, the blinding lights of a car, tires kicking up dust as it blazed towards them, faster than he could think. In a moment, without pondering, he wrapped his arms around Cassandra and turned her away.