The sound of the prison hospital wing door opens and I find myself hesitating in the doorway, bewildered at what could potentially lie before me. Putting the toe of my boot inside, I finally managed to get over the fear and crossed the white tiled floor of the place. Making my way deeper inside the underbelly of society, I found I was relieved when I spotted Owen, still lying in his hospital bed, this time staring up at the bone-colored ceiling.

"Owen?" I asked, forcing my voice not to break as I stepped forward. "Owen? It's me, it's Leia."

He sighs; a full-bodied movement, almost as if he's angered by my presence here, which would be warranted in this situation. "And how may I help you today? I'm surprised they let you in. As my ex-wife, you're not going to be very high on the familial lists."

"Did they give you the news?" I ask him. "They're going to be moving you to Mercy General Hospital later this afternoon."

He sighs. "Has my condition worsened? I figure, as a police officer, you'd be allowed to ask that sort of question... I mean, has your father subpoenaed my medical records already?"

"Owen, please don't be ridiculous, not now," I say, shaking my head as I move to sit next to him. "Listen, I met with the medical examiner, Natasha Warner, last night, and you've been cleared."

Owen immediately turns to look at me. "It's over?"

"Well, not entirely, no," I reply. "My father has some friends in high places and is going on your behalf to your place of work, and is demanding your job back. And, since none of this ever happened, I'm amending the custody agreement per our children's wishes."

"Rebecca and Henry get a vote?"

I laugh. "Well, I'm not sure. All I do know is that Alexandrine...well, it's going to take some time. Since she claimed you were the one behind the assaults, I think she should enter therapy effective immediately."

Owen nods. "Of course. If she claimed it was all me, then I think it's best if I give her some space."

I find myself smiling at him. "Thank you." I lean back ever so slightly in the chair provided, and sighed, not wishing to hurt him further, but wanting to be honest with him all the same, knowing that this could make or break everything. "I'm not going to rethink the divorce, though, Owen."

Owen sits up a bit in the bed. "No, I don't think you should either. But there's one thing you still don't know about, Leia."

"Please, at this point, virtually nothing could surprise me."

He sighs. "Well, first off... Who did Alexandrine say hurt her?"

"Well, you," I reply. "But after the DNA results came back..." I sigh, not wanting to be the one to tell him this, but knowing that it had to be said. "The DNA tests showed that Chelsea has been abusing Alexandrine."

Owen became incensed with anger. "This is a new low, even for you Leia," he thunders. "How could you tell me that my twin sister...?!"

I reach into my briefcase and throw a copy of the DNA results on his bed. "There is all the proof you could ever want," I say to him. "None of it has been altered. I know for a fact that it was Chelsea."

Owen immediately tears through the paperwork and looks it over, scrutinizing every detail until his eyes are even more red-rimmed than before. "So the check for a million dollars...?"

"Blood money," I reply. "She felt guilty because of her abuse towards Alexandrine and she felt it made us even somehow."

"Where is she now?"

"Asked her out for lunch today at this new bistro in Midtown," I reply. "Mom is sending in Sonny to pick her up now." I lean closer. "Listen, Sonny's really sorry for his part of it the other day. The arrest at the airport, all that... He—"

Owen holds up his hand, his eyes twinkling through his sad smile. "Sonny was just doing his job. All is forgiven."

"And me?" I ask him. "Am I forgiven?"

He sighs. "You jumped on the bandwagon pretty quickly," he said, lying up against his pillows. "Sure you didn't believe it? Just a little? Despite my assurances that it never happened?"

I sighed. "I guess with all the secrets and lies and lack of other communications on both ends, I thought it was easy to believe it. Besides, Alexandrine doesn't lie. You know that."

Owen nods. "That's true." He picks at the edge of his bed linen; I wonder then how many prisoners could have died in this bed. "You're right—about all the secrets and the lying. But it's not what you think—me and Nurse Minnie. I swear. I'll tell you everything."

"Okay," I reply. "Tell me everything."

He looks up at me and smiles ever so slightly. "You know I love you, Leia. Always have, always will... Just not in the way you love me."

"Well, that's the problem, isn't it?" I ask him. "That's why you had an affair with Nurse Minnie."

Owen shakes his head. "Nurse Minnie isn't who you think."

I purse my lips, considering that. "Try me, then."

"I got you the Grande unicorn Frappuccino," says a voice from behind me.

"I thought those were discontinued over thirty years ago," I say, turning around and feeling my eyes nearly pop out of their sockets. "Minnie?"

"You would think so," says the man with a smile. He seriously looks like he belongs on the cover of GQ Magazine, and looked like he could easily be Cosmo's cousin, the way he looked. "Hi," he says, putting out his finely manicured hand with a thousand-watt smile. "Marcus Fairbanks. Nice to meet you."

"Officially?" I say, looking from one of them to the other, as Marcus crosses to the other side of the bed and hands over Owen's Frappuccino. "Looks like you got your outside world drink privileges back..."

"Judging from her understandably standoffish tone, I take it you haven't conveyed the promised information to her," Marcus said quietly.

"You're together," I say.

Marcus turns fifty shades of pink and proceeds sipping his salted caramel latte and looks away.

"Yes," Owen replies. "Marcus is a male nurse. He just dressed up as a female nurse during the Halloween party. Did you happen to notice the time stamp of the photo your P.I. took?" he asks. "It was time-stamped—or should have been—during Halloween. We took a break and when things got hot and heavy, we went to an abandoned supply closet off the east wing."

"Not very romantic, I know, but given the circumstances, we had to be discreet about the whole thing," Marcus puts in.

"Oh, my god," I say, shaking my head.

"I realize that there's never a good time to say this," Owen says, reaching out and taking ahold of my wrist gently. "But, I'm gay. I'm gay, Leia, and I'm so sorry you had to find out like this. I'm tired of hiding it. I'm in love with Marcus and since we're divorcing anyway..."

I maneuver my hand so as it clasps Owen's. "You have nothing to apologize for," I tell him with a smile. I look up at Marcus and reach out to him, taking ahold of his other hand in mine. "I hate to sound petty, but now I feel less to blame for this whole thing," I say.

Marcus laughs immediately. "No, of course you're not to blame," he assures me with a smile. "It took us months before we reached this impasse—a point of no return, if you will. All Owen could say was that he couldn't bear to hurt you and that he didn't want to break up the family. He said how much he loved you and that he didn't want to hurt the kids..."

"But I couldn't stand it anymore—not being myself," Owen says softly. "I know that it's a shock, but..."

I shake my head. "Actually, it's not really a shock."

Marcus looks from me to Owen in confusion. "I thought you told me that she didn't know," he says quietly, not accusatory."

"I didn't tell her," Owen assures Marcus before turning back to me. "What do you mean, Leia? What are you talking about?"

"I suppose I should've been tipped off initially when you insisted that we get married on Martha's Vineyard, and when you designed the ring yourself," I say with a smirk. "I guess I just thought, at the time, that Alexandrine needed a father or maybe you were metrosexual or something..."

Marcus snorts. "Yeah, that was my first impression, too."

"But you've got nothing to apologize for," I reply, looking from him to Marcus and back again. "Marcus... Have you met my children?"

"Yes, many times," he replies. "Of course, I was only called 'Daddy's friend' at the time. Of course, that'll be an interesting conversation..."

"You seem to like them," I say quietly.

Marcus smiles. "I adore those kids, really," he replies. "They're wonderful. I love Alexandrine's impressions of modern society. She's a little live wire, that one. I absolutely adore her."

I nod then, considering. "Well, I'll amend the custody agreement then," I say with a smile. "Listen, I put a down payment on a house in Westchester County. The sale went through this morning, so it's mine. I'm going to relinquish my rights to the penthouse, because you always seemed to love it," I say to Owen. "How would you and Marcus like to call the penthouse home?"

"We couldn't," Owen says.

I smile. "Actually, you can. Mom and Dad gave me the penthouse legally after Alexandrine was born—it's in my name. I added your name to it after we got married, and so if I take my name off it, it's yours."

"What about the kids?" Marcus asks.

"Well, I was thinking I'd hire some part-time help while I'm at work," I reply. "I know that schools are of a higher caliber in Westchester County, so I think it would be best if they attended school there."

"She's right," Marcus tells Owen. "You know I went through my schooling there, and all their learning institutions are incredible."

"What are you proposing?" Owen asks.

"You and Marcus can pick them up on Friday after school, and then they can come back to me on Monday after school," I reply. "It'll take some getting used-to, but I know that now that they'll have two father figures in their lives, that there isn't anything they can't handle."

"Three eventually," Marcus observes.

I raise an eyebrow. "Is there something else I should be made aware of?" I ask, and manage to dart my gaze quickly from one to the other.

Owen shakes his head. "Not that I'm aware of."

"I mean when you find someone else," Marcus replies.

I shake my head. "I think I'm just going to focus on the kids and my career for the moment," I say with a smile. "I'm not really in the mood to jump into anything just yet, and that's okay. All I want is to ensure that the kids are safe, and that I keep the creeps off the streets who pose a threat to them."

"I really like her," Marcus stage-whispers to Owen.

Owen laughs then. "Well, I think you both can tell that I have a type," he replies, shaking his head as he falls back against the pillows.

. . .

I returned to my parent's house where my children still were and found Hunter looking after them. He'd finished with school for the week and was enjoying his bonding time with his two nieces and nephew, who had bonded to him quite quickly, thankfully. I soon discovered that Hunter had fed the twins and put them down for an afternoon nap before helping Alexandrine with her homework, and I was shocked at this turn of events.

"Thompson has dinner ready," Hunter explained from the breakfast nook of the kitchen, where he was sitting with Alexandrine. "Mom and Dad said they'd be home by six."

I blink, surprised that he had such a grasp of their schedules. "And you don't have homework?" I ask, taking one of Thompson's freshly baked cookies from a plate on the kitchen island.

"Leia, I'm a senior, and it's closing in on the end of the year," he replied with a quick smile.

"It's March," I reply, chewing my cookie. "The snow is melting. Don't you have midterms or something due?"

"In a couple of weeks, and they're all in-class," Hunter says, slightly exasperated that his older sister is telling him how to live his life.

"And do you still study for these things, or is that out the window, too?" I ask him, leaning up against the kitchen island and chewing on a second cookie. "I mean, I don't know. It's been a while since I graduated high school..."

"Exactly," Hunter replied. "Come on, Leia—I've got it under control."

I approach the table, leaning down and kissing Alexandrine on the forehead before ruffling Hunter's hair. "I know you do," I tell him. Turning around to head upstairs to check on the twins, I spot a rather large legal envelope just to the right of the platter of cookies. Immediately assuming that it is for me, I rip it open like there's no tomorrow and peek at it. "Damn, this isn't for me," I say, shaking my head and causing Hunter to turn around.

"That's mine!" Hunter shouts, getting to his feet.

"Wait a minute—now I'm curious!" I say, evading his grasp and reading the heading of the document. "Oooh, the admissions department of Yale!"

"Yeah, I got deferred at Christmas," Hunter says, crossing his arms in a petulant manner. "Don't rub it in."

"Wait a minute here," I say, reading the fine print. "Dear Mr. Beckett, we've successfully reviewed your application and, at this time, we would like to formally accept you into Yale Law School. Congratulations, blah, blah, blah," I say, looking up at Hunter.

"Wait, it doesn't say that!" Hunter cried out, moving to swipe the paperwork away from me and I let him. "Wait... I got in?!"

"Looks that way," I replied, crossing back over to Alexandrine and peering over her shoulder at her homework assignment. "What are you working on tonight, now, sweetheart?"

"An essay about what we think middle school will be like," she replies. "Mama, Grandma says that I can have a garden tea party for my birthday..."

I smiled; Alexandrine had always been especially fond of her birthday parties, and every year, one had a different theme. Now that her eleventh birthday was a mere three months away, planning would have to occur eventually. We'd never had one at her grandparents' house, however, and, pending my parents' approval, and I soon wondered if such a thing would even be an option. "You do realize, darling, that after we move, and starting in September, you'll be going to a different school, one in Westchester County?"

"What's the school called again?" she asked.

"The Hackley School," Hunter replies, taking the paperwork and making his way back to the nook, pulling himself into it across from her. "It's kindergarten through twelfth grade—that means you don't have to switch schools."

"Unless you want to," I cut in, not wanting Hunter to give Alexandrine any kind of misinformation on the subject. "I went to an art's school for high school—it was a long and grueling audition process, and you don't necessarily have to go through that, sweetheart. There are also schools that focus more on science and technology, so there are plenty to choose from."

"What did you do at art's school, Mama?" Alexandrine wants to know.

"Well, you had several majors to choose from," I reply. "Acting, filmmaking, dancing, music... Anything you want, really. You're very good at your ballet, so maybe that's something to think about."

"Both your mom and dad went there," Hunter tells Alexandrine, which is more than a little insensitive of him.

"Hunter, may I speak with you in the other room, please?" I say and, without waiting for an answer, turn around and leave the room. I am pleased when I hear the telltale noise of his Converse upon the wood floor and turn to face him; he had inherited Dad's height, so I had to crane my neck quite a bit to really get a good look at him. "Look, I know Dad must've told you about Owen's innocence, but he's still guilty of one thing," I say, shaking my head. "Alexandrine is still very fragile on the subject, so please, be gentle with it."

"You mean, he's guilty of cheating on you?"

I nod. "Exactly."

Hunter rolls his shoulders. "But you're not as mad about it, are you? I mean, now that he's out and everything..."

"I don't blame him—not at all. I blame myself for not recognizing the signs," I reply, shaking my head. "Maybe if I'd seen his intensity with the relationship, I could've figured out just how much denial he was in..."

Hunter sighs, pulling me into his arms. "You can't blame yourself," he tells me. "I mean, Jeannie and I have been together two years already, and I know I want to be with her forever. But there are no guarantees, Leia, and we always have to be prepared for all that."

I smiled, remembering me comforting him whenever he had a crisis situation, but Mom and Dad had been working. "Well, all I know is, if it ever happens, you'll make a hell of a dad."

Hunter chuckles, pulling back. "Well, I know Jeannie wants kids, so that certainly is useful information to know."

"So, what is it she's going to college for again?"

"She's going to the Columbia University School of Journalism," he replies, and I see his happiness for Jeannie in his eyes. "She wants to be one of those top-ranking reporters you always see on T.V."

I smile. "Well, with her grades, Columbia's lucky to have her," I reply. I check my watch then, shaking my head. "And now it's time to get the twins up from their nap," I say, making my way over to the stairs.

"Hey, Leia?"

I turn around to face him again. "Yeah?"

"You think you'll ever get involved with someone again?"

I shrug. "At this point, all I can think about is the kids, my job, and moving us and everything else to our new house. Anything else?" I shrug. "Anything else will take a bit more time."

. . .

"What's the matter with you?"

I lift my head, staring across from me at Lavinia, who is giving me a concerned look. "Oh, it's nothing," I reply. "Just that the homeowners have decided not to move out for another few weeks. Now my husband and his boyfriend get Alexandrine on weekdays because she has to finish out the school year..." I sigh a little then. "It's a living, I guess..."

Lavinia sighs. "Sorry to hear that."

I smile tightly at her. "Hey, it is what it is."

"At least your mom is cool with you staying at her place for a while."

I nod. "Yeah, she doesn't seem to mind me making sure that Hunter doesn't throw any ragers..."

Lavinia leans forward. "Listen, Paxton and I have set a date," she says, sliding a cream-colored envelope across our desks towards me.

I smile and take ahold of the envelope. "Thanks."

She grins at me. "You're expected at the rehearsal dinner and early on the day of, you know, as befits your station as a bridesmaid."

I salute her, putting the invitation in my bag. "Noted," I reply. I roll my shoulders then, peeking out through the interrogation room door to the window outside, where the sun is just beginning to set. "Long day," I say.

She nods. "Yeah..."

"How's Paxton with all this?"

Lavinia giggles. "Thankfully, he's out at a job site in Syracuse until the end of the week," she replies easily. "We try to make our schedules in sync whenever he does happen to be in town."

"What's the site of?" I ask.

"This new museum on fishing," Lavinia replies.

The office door opens then and my mother enters the squad room, and Sonny, Lavinia, and I—the lieutenant and detectives in the office that night—immediately get to our feet. I can see then in my mother's eyes that something is the matter, but cannot for the life of me figure out what it is. Little did I know that it would hit us both close to home.

"House party gone bad," she says quietly. "The 911 operator couldn't get any kind of positive I.D. from the call, so we really don't know much about it."

"Where at?" Sonny asks.

"Penthouse on the Upper East Side," my mother replies. "We'll need a canvas out there immediately..."

"I could go," Sonny offers.

"Hatfield, Leia, you go check it out, see if can find the complainant," my mother orders, and I can see that Sonny is quickly annoyed by us having the 'more interesting' job. "Carisi, you come with me—the mother and father are vacationing in Bridgehampton tonight at the Topping Rose House—we gotta make sure that they know what's happening on their property."

"You got it, captain," Lavinia says, her jacket already half-on.

I troop after her, hopping on the elevator. As I wait for the doors to close, my eyes become glued to the hideous carpet at me feet—we seriously needed to get new carpet workers in there...

"Something on your mind?" Lavinia asks.

"Honestly?" I ask as the elevator doors ding open in the parking garage. "I guess you could say I'm not altogether approving of my mother and Sonny going off to a romantic hotel together..."

"Is that all?" Lavinia wants to know. "Trust me, Leia, your mom and Sonny are ancient history," she says as we get into my car. "You've got nothing to worry about—your parents love each other."

I sigh, sticking my key into the ignition. "Sorry, I guess the whole my husband being gay thing is still with me," I reply.

"Understandable—you were with him since high school," Lavinia replies. "You ever get that feeling of resentment at being lied to?"

I shrug as we pull out of the parking garage. "Fleeting moments of it, maybe," I admit as we drive down the dark street. "I guess I was more discouraged by the notion that Owen didn't feel like he could tell me the truth. To be honest, I think I was more invested in the whole thing than he was."

"How's that?"

"Well, we were living together after I turned eighteen, but that was only after I told him that I was pregnant with Alexandrine," I reply. "After that, he convinced me to move in with him and we got married within months of her birth. He was always so attentive and patient with me—he was strictly traditional, mind you, and after she started school and we started our careers, he immediately asked me why we hadn't yet had another baby..."

"And then the twins were born?"

I nod. "Yeah, pretty much. I found out I was pregnant on the night Owen said he wanted to try again."

Lavinia sighs ever so slightly as we stop at a traffic light. "I don't even know if I want children," she confesses to me then. "Paxton's family is this architecture mogul dynasty, so you know what that means..."

"At least one boy to take it over?" I ask her.

Lavinia nods at that as the light turns green and as we pull carefully into the intersection. "Exactly. I mean, Paxton Sr. and Penelope are nice enough, but part of me wonders if they're going to be the kind of in-laws who insist upon watching the marriage consummation..."

I try and fail not to laugh. "You're kidding, right?"

"Wish I was..."

"But you and Paxton live together," I say. "You mean to tell me that you sleep in separate bedrooms?"

Lavinia shakes her head. "No. We share a room."

"And a bed?" I ask, cocking an eyebrow.

Now it is Lavinia's turn to try and fail not to laugh. "We've been together five years and we've lived together for three."

"So, the rest is up to my imagination, then, I take it?"

She nods. "Yeah—the rest is up to you."

We continued to make small talk on the rest of the car ride, until we pulled up to the house to see a few ambulances and a few police vehicles on the pavement just ahead of us. I pulled off to the side of the road and Lavinia and I hastily made an exit from my car and made our way towards the police tape. We immediately took out our badges upon approaching the officer who appeared to be in charge. He was a portly man with a salt and pepper mustache, and I knew him to be Officer Albert Franklin, familiar to both my parents.

"SVU," Lavinia said as we stepped forward.

"I'm Detective Beckett, this is my partner Detective Hatfield," I said as Officer Franklin motioned for us to get under the police tape. "What do we got?" I asked as we stepped closer to the main entrance of the building.

"Party gone awry," Officer Franklin replies easily. "Bunch of high schoolers just drinking and being reckless—more of the usual. The only unusual thing was the reason why SVU was called in the first place..."

"What happened?" Lavinia asked.

"A high school student was raped on the premises," Officer Franklin tells us both in a grave tone.

"Do you know the high school?" I ask him.

"Sappo School of the Arts and Academics," Officer Franklin replies.

Immediately, I grip Lavinia's hand. "That's Hunter's school!" I whisper before tearing up the stairs and wondering if I knew the perp or the assailant. As I made my way through the foyer, I saw more police tape down the hall and walked towards it. Across the hall from the taped-off room, I saw a pair of officers talking to a young man who seemed to be upset. Stepping closer, my blood ran cold as I recognized the voice. "Hunter?" I asked.

My youngest brother turned around, and my heart dropped. His eyes were swollen and purple, and his knees were covered with black and blue marks. His head appeared to be bashed in somehow, and I assumed the rest of his body housed even more bruises. He was thankfully wrapped in a blanket, and his voice caught as he tried to speak to me.

"It's okay, it's okay," I said, flashing my badge to the officers as I felt Lavinia coming up behind me. "This is my brother," I said, stepping forward and pulling him in my arms.

. . .

"Hunter, I just want to impress upon you that you're not protecting anyone by refusing a rape kit," I tell him gently. "Yes, it's an invasive procedure that can be demeaning, but you're only protective your assaulters if you refuse."

Hunter merely sits in his hospital bed, shivering. His eyes are a mixture of red and purple, from crying and pain. "I don't know what to do."

I sigh, perching on the side of his bed. "It's a conflict of interest, but I could take your statement, if you're comfortable. Otherwise, it has to be Lavinia, or Sonny, and I know you don't want Mom to know the details first-hand..."

My brother shivers. "And Felicity and Fin? They're not coming?"

I shake my head. "No. Felicity's on her honeymoon in the Caribbean and Fin is in Chicago helping Uncle Mason with his latest art gallery," I explain patiently. "As for the excuses? Wrong time and work commitments," I tell Hunter patiently. "All I can say is, Dad is on his way and you know he's not going to leave you alone until he's sure that the hospital has proper security. So, you either have to give me your statement now, or when he falls asleep..."

He sighs. "What do you want to know?"

"Were you drinking?"

My brother locks eyes with mine. "Would that matter?"

"Yes, and no," I say quietly. "Yes, because it's illegal for anyone under the age of twenty-one in the United States to drink. No, because it doesn't matter if you were drunk or sober at the time of the attack—it was still—"

"Don't say that word, please," Hunter says, his voice cracking. "I mean, a few hours ago, I didn't even know a guy could be raped, and now..."

I nod. "Okay. We'll call it 'the situation' or 'the incident'. Okay?"

Hunter nods back. "Fine."

"Okay. So, were you drinking tonight, Hunter?"

He sighs. "I had some punch—Hawaiian punch mixed with vodka. I had about two solo cups of it, but that's it."

"Over the course of how long?"

"What?" Hunter asks, confused.

I purse my lips, knowing full well that I had to be gentle when it came to him, especially now. "Let's start off easy. When did you get to the party?"

"Around seven," he replies.

"Okay. And do you know when the incident happened?"

"Maybe around nine-thirty," he replies.

I nod. "Okay—so two drinks—"

"Not really two," he replies. "They were only filled up about halfway. I don't really drink."

I nod. "Okay. So, one drink over two hours? You're about six-four and...?"

"Two hundred and twenty pounds, about," he replies.

I nod. "You can't have had much of a blood-alcohol, if any at all," I reply, positive that a nurse had taken down that information on a preliminary basis. "Okay... Now I know this is difficult, but can you tell me who did this to you?"

Hunter looks away. "I don't know."

I sigh, considering a different angle. "Hunter, what have I always told you about rape victims?" I ask.

"Other than the fact that they always seem to be women?"

"That opinion aside, yes. Come on. What have I always said?"

"You've said that if they don't report their rape by going through the proper channels, that they could be attacked again, or that their rapist could attack someone else," Hunter replies.

I nod at him. "That's right. Now, who did this to you? I don't care who it is—I just need their name to get whoever did this to you off the street. They just forfeited their right to a free life, Hunter."

"Life in prison?" he asks.

I sigh. "No. Whoever did this gets twenty-five years, assuming that it's found to be rape in the first-degree, meaning that it was planned."

Hunter bites his lip. "I don't even know if it was rape..."

I raise my eyebrows. "Hunter, you're beaten..." I hesitate then. "Is... Is that something you're into, or...?"

Hunter turns to me, horrified. "No!" he shouts.

I take a step back. "Sorry," I reply. "I had to ask, I'm sorry." I wait for a moment before continuing on. "Hunter, why do you think it isn't rape? Clearly, you didn't want this to happen."

Hunter lowers his eyes, revulsion and shame seemingly emulating through him in that moment. "I... I got...aroused," he replies, his voice barely above a whisper as he divulges the information to me.

I do my best to hold back my tears. "Hunter, that doesn't mean you consented," I tell him gently.

"What the hell does it mean, then?!" he demands, and I find myself getting to my feet as I watch the tears streaming down his face. "Does it mean that I'm gay now?! I don't understand any of this..."

My mind fixated on that one word: Gay. "Hunter, are you telling me that a man did this to you?" I ask him.

He nods. "Yes. Yeah. A man—a guy—whatever."

I nod encouragingly. "Okay. Can you tell me his name?"

"There were two," he says. "They were brothers—twins. Exchange students from Russia—Alexander and Vladimir Sokolov."

I sighed, knowing exactly who these brothers were; infamous for their mutual six-feet-seven, two-hundred-and-fifty-pound build, they were the top teenage wrestlers in Russia. Studying their senior year at an American high school, they had no shortage of admirers—including cheerleaders and various college scouts. I'd seen them in action, and it was not hard to believe their need to dominate someone that they felt was weaker—or, in this case, inferior. Despite both of the Sokolov's prowess when it came to wrestling, Hunter was still the team captain, having risen the ranks after marking the varsity team the year before.

"And they raped you?" I ask him, my voice emotionless.

"Yes," Hunter said quietly. "They did it while Jeannie watched."

My eyes widened then. "What?" I whispered.

Hunter nodded, fresh tears escaping from his eyes. "She paid them to do it—it got her off."

"Son of a bitch," I whispered to myself. "Okay... I have to go find these brothers and Jeannie."

"Are you going to arrest them?" Hunter asked.

"You're damn right I am," I reply.

"Leia?"

I turn around and look at him, and suddenly he is a six-year-old boy again, asking me to read him a story. But those days are long gone, and I know that there are dark days ahead. One false move, and those horrible men could be on a plane to Russia, never to be seen again, but I couldn't let myself think about that. Nor could I let on to Hunter that that's what I was thinking in the first place.

"Yeah, Hunter?"

Hunter shivered through his tears. "Tell the nurse that I agree," he whispered. "I'll do the rape kit."

I let go of the door and move back across the room, kissing his forehead in a brief manner. "Good," I reply. "I'm going to go track them all down, and then I'll come back and see you tomorrow. Okay?"

Hunter nods. "After the rape kit, I can sleep?"

I smile and nod back at him. "Yes. Yes, you can sleep."

I leave the room then and quickly find the nurse's station and give them the go-ahead to examine Hunter. I walk through the hospital and out to the parking lot, where Lavinia is standing by my car, wrapping up a phone call to Paxton. When she sees me, she quickly wraps up the call, staring at me.

"You don't look well," she says softly.

I shiver. "I think I need a psych eval," I tell her.

Lavinia blinks. "Why?"

My hand twitches along my gun. "Because I'm in desperate need for my brother's girlfriend and a certain pair of twins to taste lead," I reply.