I woke up in Richard's arms the following morning a bit after six. I immediately untangled myself from him and dashed to the bathroom, quickly turning on the water and stepping into the shower. The water felt divine on my skin, and I washed away everything of the night before, except the series of love bites that covered my neck and breasts. I finished my shower and blow-dried my hair before I stepped out of the bathroom, wrapped in a towel, as Richard was pulling on his socks.

"Good morning," I say.

He smiles up at me. "Good morning." He steps into his shoes and crosses the room, blazer over one shoulder, and stands before me. He gives me a quick, closed-mouth kiss, because his eyes tell me he doesn't want to be potentially disgusting with me just yet. "Want to get together later?"

I smile. "I'll talk to my parents—I'm sure they know you stayed over by now. I think my mom said something about her chicken pot pie for dinner. Would you like to stay?"

He nods. "I would."

I shiver beneath his hot gaze—the notion of having a rather deliciously gorgeous man in my childhood bedroom was almost too hot to handle. "Okay... Well, I've got to get dressed and get my things together. I'm seeing Tabby's daughter Henrietta after school today for her competency test. I should be finished around four and home before five, pending what traffic is like..."

Richard smiles. "I've got a meeting at nine to discuss better security measures in our office, along with a slew of other meetings regarding upcoming cases. Shall we say six o'clock tonight? I'll come over..."

I nod. I slip into the bathroom, pulling him with me and reaching under the bathroom counter. I hand him a toothbrush and point to the toothpaste resting upon the counter. Nodding at my own toothbrush, which has a fair amount of water droplets on it, I cross my arms and smile at him.

He chuckles then and brushes his teeth in a frenzy, before smiling his pearly whites at me. I jump into his arms then and kiss him, our tongues attacking one another, and small moans escaping from my mouth to his and back again, like a merry-go-round. He then pulls me from the bathroom, his mouth still on mine, and we make love quickly, keeping our mouths locked together so as to keep our actions as quiet as possible.

"You're amazing," he says quietly to me, and I see that it is after seven already, but I don't make a move to get up again.

"I have to shower again before work now," I say, a laugh escaping my throat then as I find the whole situation rather funny.

"Sorry," Richard replies, unapologetic, a smile stretching from ear to ear.

I quickly mount him again, grinning down at him. "Oh, we're not finished yet, Berkshaw. I think I'm ready for it again."

I arrive at school shortly after eight-thirty, slipping with my Frappuccino into my classroom and heading directly over to my computer to check my work email. I don't suspect anything until my door opens, a few minutes later, and Mrs. Fields walks in, all smiles. Her smile is knowing and telling all at once, and she comes to sit beside my desk.

"Hot date last night?"

I immediately flush and turn back to my computer. "I haven't the faintest idea of what you're talking about."

"The blush, the turtleneck, and you arriving over half an hour before your usual time tipped me off."

I feel myself biting my lip and push back from the computer. "Mrs. Fields, it's not what you think..."

"And the sudden propriety," she says, chuckling good naturedly. "Sarah, dear, I've told you since the beginning, call me Gloria."

"Gloria... Really, it's not..."

She smiles as I stop talking. "Sarah, I know. My husband, Harvey, and I were quite like you and your mystery man at the beginning. You know what he would do, in the middle of the courting ritual? He would arrange with the secretary—this was when the former one, Dagmar Morrison was still working—to leave a box of chocolates in my classroom, or sometimes it would be a bouquet of my favorite flowers, peonies. I wasn't in it for the gifts, Sarah, if that's what you're thinking, dear. I was in it for the spontaneity, and for the love of being wanted and desired and loved."

"I didn't think you would be in it for the gifts, Gloria," I reply, smiling at her. "I guess I just don't want to get my hopes up, that's all..."

"Oh. Are you unsure about his being serious?"

I smile at that and shake my head. "No. He's very sincere. And he should be, although in his line of work—according to my mother, back when I was in high school—he's a trained liar."

"What does he do?" Gloria asks.

"He's an attorney for this big law firm Downtown," I reply. "Nice guy. Enjoys his job..."

Gloria sighs and bites her lip. "I promised myself I wouldn't say anything, but you were out all last week and Annette took over your class..."

I raise my eyebrows. "Do you doubt her competency?"

She shakes her head. "Oh, no, just the opposite, actually. She handled the children exceptionally well at the monthly assembly last week, and performed quite well during lunch duty. And even when taking over for playground monitor, like you do, she was wonderful. Prevented one of my boys from taking down one of your girls, literally," Gloria says, chuckling lightly.

"Why do you ask?" I inquire, even though I already know the answer.

Gloria ponders for a moment. "Well, I'm asking why she took over for you, and now you're dating an attorney for some reason..." She sighs. "Sarah, I consider you a friend. I'm just worried about you, that's all."

I nod. "I know."

She sighs, giving me a small smile. "Well, I won't force you to tell me what happened, Sarah, because I know it's none of my business unless you make it my business." She smiles at me and folds me into a hug. "Just know that I'm here if you ever need anything. I said as much to you in your first week here, and I'm telling you again now. You are a very good teacher. We don't want to lose you."

I sigh and pull back from her, hunching my shoulders ever so slightly. "Gloria, I was sexually assaulted on the eighteenth," I say softly.

"Oh, Sarah, no!" she cries.

I lower my eyes, knowing that, one day, this will be much easier to talk about. "Yes. I was out with Caroline and Franklin—he just got back from Columbia and is beginning his residency in a few weeks... I was out at The Electric Violin, Caroline's brother Nathan's place, and he—Nathan—assaulted me after..."

"After what?" Gloria asks. "Sarah, what happened?"

"Caroline and Franklin have been crazy about each other for years, and they finally got together that night—I guess his homecoming helped. Nathan...well, I wasn't sure until then, but he's harbored obsessive feelings towards me for a very long time. He tried to kiss me over our high school years—unsuccessfully—but on the New Years' after my twenty-first birthday, he kissed me during a party. He was drunk, I didn't think anything of it, but the other week he made yet another pass at me. I finally said no and left, but he followed me to the back of the place and that's when he..."

"Sarah, did Nathan rape you?" she asks.

I shake my head at her. "Not in the way you think," I reply. "He...put his finger inside me," I whisper, feeling hot tears enter my eyes. "I'd... I'd never..."

"He hurt you?" Gloria asks, nodding in between my legs. "I had you pegged for a good girl, Sarah. I guess I didn't understand how good you really were."

"I guess I never felt like anything in my life was lacking," I reply. "Until Richard entered the picture..."

"Richard? As in your student Harrison's nephew? Richard Berkshaw?" she asks, her eyes widening.

I nod. "Yes. That's him. We've become quite close... He's not representing me or anything, his law partner, Marlee, is doing that... But yes, Gloria, I was a virgin before Nathan attacked me..."

"So what happens now?"

"Marlee's husband, Timothy, is the chief of police, and he successfully arrested Nathan yesterday. Unfortunately, since Nathan doesn't have any priors known to the judge assigned to that part of the case, he's been cut loose. He's been told to keep away from me, but goodness knows how long that's going to last, really. I've cleared it with Dean Channing, who is going to send out a mass email to every employee here on my behalf, but he's not going to reveal the reason. The email will state that Nathan acted inappropriately towards one of the staff members, but he won't say who. Gloria, I'm telling you this because you're my friend, and I would appreciate it if you wouldn't..."

She nods then, taking my hands in hers and squeezing them in a moment of comfort, a smile pulling up her lips ever so slightly. "Of course, Sarah. No need to even ask. I'm your friend. Your secrets' safe with me." She checks her watch and gets to her feet, going to the door. "You mean to say that Nathan's committed an offence before?"

I nod. "Yes, like so many others before him. He...committed rape as a teenager. The girl I'm testing later this afternoon—Henrietta—is Nathan's son's half-sister."

Gloria raises her eyebrows at that. "Does Nathan even know that he has any children?" she wants to know.

I shrug. "If he does, he didn't hear it from me," I reply.

At three o'clock exactly, I excuse the children and leave the door to my classroom open for Henrietta to arrive with Tabby. I put a single desk for her by a window and open it; the day is warm and the fresh air will do her good. I remember Tabby telling me that Henrietta is quite fond of fruit punch, so I've bought a small jug of it and have put it in the mini fridge behind my desk. I've also got some kid-friendly paper cups, so I know that Henrietta will be very comfortable in here.

At a few minutes past three, Tabby enters with Henrietta, Jeremiah waiting in the hallway behind us to be taken to James Coolidge, the best—and most difficult—sixth grade teacher the school has. I wave to him and he attempts to look cool by sticking out his lips a bit and nodding at me. I bend down to little Henrietta, dressed in an adorable pink dress with her brown hair long and shiny down her back.

"Hello, Henrietta," I say, getting eye-level to her. "My name is Seraphina, but you can call me Sarah today. If you pass this little exam I have for you, you'll call me Miss Richardson, but there's no formality here today. Why don't you say goodbye to your mom and then we can get to know each other before you have to take the test?"

Tabby lifts up Henrietta and kisses her. "You be good. I'll be talking to Dean Channing with Daddy while you and your brothers are working. Mr. Coolidge, Sarah, and Mrs. Silver will take you all to the front office as soon as you've finished. I love you."

"I love you, too, Mama," Henrietta replies as Tabby kisses her forehead, sets her down, and waves to me before leaving with Jeramiah.

"Now, Henrietta, why don't you come over here with me?" I reach out my hand, an invitation, and she takes it. "You know, your mommy and I have been friends for a very long time. I met her when I was about your age," I tell her, letting her sit in a chair across from me at my desk as I sit behind the rather large table.

"My age? When was that?" she asks.

I smile, attempting to do the quick math in my head. "Well, let's see. It would have been about sixteen years ago. I'm in my twenties now."

She smiles. "When I'm older like you, can I do whatever I want?"

I laugh at that. "Well, you're certainly allowed to do more than you are right now, sweetheart."

"Could I stay up until midnight if I wanted to?" she asks.

I laugh. "Well, yes, if you wanted to. If you were living in your own house and had your own job but had the day off the next day, then I should think so. Or, if you're still living at home, then you'd have to be quiet. You find when you get older, you actually like having a nap now and again."

She makes a face. "I hate naps!"

I nod. "Well, don't worry. You only have to take a nap if you're in daycare for very young children, or if you're in preschool or nursery school. This is fourth grade, Henrietta. No naps for you now."

She nods. "Good."

"So what do you like to do, Henrietta? I'm sure there are some television shows you like to watch."

She nods. "Yes. I like shows on PBS, like Arthur," she tells me.

I smile at that notion. "My brother, Franklin, and I used to watch that. We really liked that one, too."

She looks around and lowers her voice to a clandestine whisper. "And sometimes, when Grandma isn't looking, I turn the channel to Nickelodeon, and I watch shows like SpongeBob SquarePants."

I laugh at that, knowing that I'd been guilty myself of changing the television channel when a trusted adult hadn't been looking for a minute. "I like that one, too. But remember, you shouldn't do anything without permission. If you really like SpongeBob that much, then you should tell your Grandma about it. Who knows? Maybe the two of you can work something out where you're allowed to watch it."

"Is that what it's like here at school?" she wants to know. "Asking permission and things like that?"

I smile at her. "Exactly. Besides, think of it like this: You wouldn't want anyone to do something without your permission, would you?"

Henrietta makes a face at that. "But I'm a kid—just a kid. I can't tell people what to do, Sarah, can I?" she asks me.

I laugh a little at that—damn, she was a perceptive little thing. "No, you're right." I pause, considering a way to tell her of the rules in a proper fashion. "Say someone took something of yours. What's your favorite toy?"

"My Felicity American Girl doll," she replies, and I know that Henrietta must have given it to her, due to Felicity being "archived" and unavailable for a considerable amount of time. "I love her. I have all her clothes and accessories and things..."

"That's very nice," I reply, looking at the doll for a moment politely. "So, say you brought her to school with you for show and tell or something. And now, say someone took Felicity without permission. I'll bet you wouldn't like that, now would you?"

Henrietta, at once, shakes her head. "No!"

I smile. "That's right. That's what I mean, when it comes to permission. If someone takes something that doesn't belong to you, what do you think happens?"

She pauses, thinking. "Well, wouldn't they be in trouble?"

I nod. "That's right." I pull out a chair and sit, and nod for her to do the same. "I have an idea. Let's say that someone took Felicity here at school. Even if you got her back, you'd still be pretty annoyed that someone took her in the first place, wouldn't you?"

She nods. "Yes."

"Well, let's say you were in charge of the child's punishment. What do you think would be an appropriate punishment?"

She bites her lip. "No recess for the rest of the day?"

I nod. "Yes, that would be fine. I'd also advise you to have the student write you an apology letter. Would that be all right?"

She nods. "And one to Felicity?"

I laugh, loving the thoughts and feelings children had and the fact that the whole filter argument hadn't come into play yet. It was a young age, nine, and I knew that she would be safe from an argument based on certain topics for a few years or more. "Well, maybe not one to Felicity, but he or she would have to mention her within the letter."

Henrietta laughs. "Yes, that's good."

"So, do you like to read?" I ask.

She nods enthusiastically, clapping her hands. "Yes! I love the Magic Tree House books—Jack and Annie are my favorites," she says excitedly.

"Do you?" I ask. "I liked those, too," I reply in a stage whisper.

"Do we do a lot of reading in here?" she wants to know.

I nod. "Yes, we do. We have levels of what we call 'The Reading Challenge' that you can work your way up to in the upper grades. The first level is basic, then intermediate, then the last one is advanced," I explain, realizing how bright she was, yet not wanting to go to fast, lest she panic that she didn't know something. "You'll do a test on your reading skills, math skills, social studies skills, science, all that good stuff."

Henrietta's brow takes on a worried look. "Four tests?" she asks.

I giggle. "No, no, no, sweetheart. You get one test that's divided up into several sections. It may feel like more than one test, but trust me, it's just one. Don't worry, it's very standard. I highly doubt you'll get lost."

She nods. "Okay. Can I take it now?"

I nod. "Yes, of course you can," I tell her as I get to my feet and cross over to my desk, picking up the exam booklet and bringing it over to her. "There are two parts to the exam," I explain to her. "The first part is English, reading, and social studies, while the final part is math and science." I set the booklet down and pour her a glass of water from the large jug I keep in my mini fridge, and get her a plate of Goldfish crackers. "Now, I'll just be answering some work emails and whatnot. I may get a phone call from someone, but all the calls go through the front office and I won't be getting one in here unless it's some sort of obvious emergency, so it'll be very quiet."

"Promise?" Henrietta asks, reaching in the pencil bucket for a pencil with a pink feather attached to its end.

I nod. "I promise," I tell her, sitting back down at my desk. "Now, if you need anything at all, let me know."

"Okay. Thank you, Sarah," she says with a sweet smile before turning to take a look at the booklet in front of her.

I catch a giggle from escaping the back of my throat and turn to my computer; I log on to my email account and answer a few work emails from parents, telling them that while I cannot meet with them today, I can certainly meet next week. Ivy Door Academy encouraged that currently enrolled students were the first priority within the system, while perspective students were a close second. Best interests for all children were important, of course, and while a currently-enrolled child's parents may believe that they were top priority, we had to always ensure a safe and considerate environment for the children themselves before we made an effort to open further communication with any parents—whether your child was enrolled or not.

After I manage to finish all my work-related correspondence, I move the cursor over to the search bar so as I can log in to my personal email. Inevitably, I find an email from Richard, and I delight in the fact that my heart skips a beat and my knees immediately turn to jelly. Crossing my legs, I force myself not to become wet and to ruin my desk chair. Biting my lip and clicking the email with his name stamped upon it, I feel my cheeks heat at the words that immediately pop up onto my screen.

From: Richard Berkshaw ()

To: Seraphina Richardson ()

Subject: This Morning

Quite an amazing and exhilarating performance this morning, Seraphina. I look forward too many more of them in the near future. Knowing that I have a teacher on my hands, I know that she will be able to please me based on the knowledge she has for history. However, my knowledge lies in the law, so I know when to draw the line. Mayhap we could discuss it later, at this place I know Downtown? I promise to have you home by curfew, unless you beg me to keep you longer.

Richard Berkshaw

Attorney at Law

I know exactly what he wants me to say, but I don't want to be "easy"; I don't want to play directly into his hands, although a part of me would like to. I decide to play cleverly, knowing that perhaps it would get me punished later. I so desperately wanted to be punished by him; part of me knew that it would be the sweetest punishment ever.

From: Sarah Richardson ()

To: Richard Berkshaw ()

Subject: This Evening?

Mayhap you think I will merely bend to your will—which I know you want, and you seem to want it desperately, sir. That is not going to happen so easily. Far be it from me to tell you how to act, though you do the same to me on a regular basis. Perhaps you should be taught a lesson from Miss Richardson. However, etiquette is something we women should know how to do by now—due to the hundreds of years we were made to learn it for the sake of obtaining a husband. I graciously accept your invitation this evening. You may pick me up from my parents' house at six, and we can go anywhere you like, provided that you have me home by nine-thirty, sharp.

Perhaps there will be something in the return home for you, provided that you behave like a perfect gentleman.

Seraphina Richardson,

Ivy Door Academy

Fourth Grade

Henrietta completed her test in good time and I managed to peek and to look it over, knowing that I would have to do an in-depth analysis at some point. It was the job of the instructor to look over the examination, make a few notes, and then the dean of the school would look it over. Pending transcripts and such from other schools, Dean Channing and I would have to go to the school board for all three of Tabby's children, a task in it of itself which could be daunting, but I knew that the members of the school board had their heads screwed on correctly and would admit them if they were up to par.

Class ended at its usual time for me that afternoon—2:30—which gave Annette plenty of time to do her lesson and plenty of time for me to leave early. I had a dress that Richard liked in my bag, and my plan was to change into it and surprise him at the office that afternoon. I'd arranged with Marlee for her to take over a meeting Richard had planned so as I could go down there and potentially have hot office sex with my new boyfriend—naughty, I knew, but maybe I would need a lawyer...

I quickly went to the teacher's bathroom and changed into the dress—deep purple with black lace in the front and back—and made my way out of there into my car in the teacher's section of the parking lot. My heels clicked on the cement ground as I unlocked my car and got into it, driving out of the parking lot as quickly as I dared. The last thing I needed was one of the security guards to bust me for speeding.

The commute from my area to Downtown wouldn't be too difficult, and I knew that all I really had to deal with was crazy teenagers getting out of high school at this time of day. It went by more quickly than I expected, and I parked in Richard's office underground parking garage, and clicked the proper button to get to his office. I stepped into the waiting room, and the secretary—having been briefed by Marlee—motioned for me to head back.

I walked by Marlee's office and she gave me a quick wave as I walked by, and I nodded to her. I made my way down to the other end of the hall, where Richard's oval-shaped office was. There was a certain amount of power in that particular office shape, and I felt myself becoming more and more aroused as I walked down the rest of the hallway to the office. The door was stamped RICHARD BERKSHAW, ATTORNEY AT LAW, and I very nearly lost it as I peeked through the window, and saw him staring out at his impressive view. Seeing nobody around, I bravely turn the handle and step inside quickly, pulling the shade and locking the door in one swift motion.

"Sarah!" Richard says, duly shocked by my unexpected entrance, my attire, and at my quick advancement towards him. "What are you...?" he asks.

But he is suddenly cut off as my lips silence him, and as I manage to fish my hands underneath his pristine black suit, attempting to take it off, and fast. "Annette teaches the children their last lesson of the day," I whisper into his mouth, "and I'm all caught up on my assignment correcting."

"Sarah..." Richard says, in a tone that is obviously a mixture of arousal and worry at the situation. "You should probably know now that this room isn't soundproof and that you and I would be in a very compromising position should any of my coworkers unpredictably hear the two of us..."

I pull back from him then, making my eyes as large as saucers. "Don't you like a little danger in your life?" I ask him.

Richard clearly looks annoyed. "That's beside the point, Sarah."

I lean forward then, gently taking his lower lip into my mouth and biting down upon it ever so slightly; I couldn't imagine where on earth this behavior had come from, but I wanted him inside me, and I wanted him now. "Richard, please," I say, finally permitting myself to go for broke, knowing that I needed him, and desperately. "I came down here from work because I couldn't stand being away from you. Please..."

"What are you saying, Sarah?"

"I'm saying that..." I look around, a little apprehensive to be voicing these feelings I was having, and my flushed face proved it. "I... I'm... Aroused, okay?" I whisper. "I was aroused from the moment I clicked 'open' on those emails earlier. I was aroused when I left the classroom. I was aroused when I changed into this for you," I say, taking off my jacket and revealing the dress, much to his delight. "I was aroused when I drove all the way here—took all I had for me not to get into a car accident because of it," I say. "And I was aroused walking down the hall..."

"Walking down the hall?"

"Yes...imagining your office..."

"And making love inside it?"

I give him a smirk. "You have an oval office, Richard," I say to him, slowly. "It would be like making love to a president..."

"Is that a fantasy of yours?" he asks.

I reach forward and take ahold of his simply patterned necktie, wrapping it around my fingers gently before pulling him closer. "Only if that president is you," I say softly, allowing one of my legs to rise and gently rub up from his ankle to his hip. "I don't want anyone else touching me, Richard—not anyone... I mean, you wouldn't want me to go looking elsewhere for any kind of sexual satisfaction, would you?"

Richard tightens his grip, his dark eyes boring into mine in a moment of passion and anger—he wanted this as much as I did. "You wouldn't dare," he says, deathly quiet, to me, although he was weakening, that much I knew.

I gently rub up against his thigh, challenging him, showing off the goods so as he'd know exactly what it was he was missing. "Try me," I reply.

He pulls the rest of my jacket down my arms and makes quick work of throwing it across the room, so as it clatters into a corner. He leans down then and quickly captures my lips with his, finding the zipper at the back of my dress and dragging it down quickly, so that it lands at my feet. He chuckles into my mouth as I proceed to yank at his tie, which he quickly unknots properly and takes off his jacket, shirt, and pants, so as we are both standing before one another in just our underwear. He is panting, looking down at me, and I am doing the same, much like a bitch in heat would, and I am practically shaking, my body begging him to put his hands back on me.

Richard reaches behind me and unclips my bra, staring in awe at my breasts as the pair of them swing free. He takes one in one hand, then the other, and I virtually melt at his touch, letting out soft moans as he takes hold of the swollen nipples between his fingers, squeezing them ever so slightly. As I watch him, my eyes widen when he bends down and takes one nipple in his mouth and sucks if for a period, then does the same with my second nipple. I hold my knees together, fearful of what will come if this goes on for much longer, and I don't want to ruin his carpeting.

Chuckling to himself, Richard gently eases me up onto his desk and kneels before me, taking ahold of the band of my panties and easing them off. He seems to chuckle again when the fabric near my crotch lingers there for a second longer than the rest; his hot breath upon me there makes me squirm, my legs forming goose bumps quickly on my pale flesh as I imagine his wants and needs in those moments. He gently eases my legs apart, bending his head and permitting his tongue out from betwixt those sensual lips of his as he steps forward, tasting me.

"Richard, what are you...?!" I cry out then, suddenly letting out a moan and making a grab for his thick hair, plunging his mouth closer and closer into the crevice between my legs as I feel every sensation I'd long since convinced myself I never needed in my life. "Please, Richard, don't stop..." I whisper. I feel my toes curl at the feeling of his hot breath upon me, sending goose bumps up and down my legs. "Richard..." I whisper, knotting my fingers into his hair, and he chuckles against me, opening his mouth wider—it is a small movement—and allows his tongue to slip inside me. This is a new development and my eyes, once closed, now shoot open at this new, pleasurable thing I am feeling. I feel as if he has taken me to a whole new level, and I cannot even begin to comprehend what this means.

He chuckles a bit then, after I manage to potentially damage his desktop, and helps me to my feet. Shaking, he takes me into his arms, and kisses my forehead. "It's all okay," he whispers to me.

I pull back from him, once my mind can re-focus and I can successfully move without the feeling that I will go crashing down. "Wow," I whisper, "I never knew that sex could be like that..."

Richard tightens his grip upon me then. "I want you to experience everything, Sarah, everything." He runs his finger along my lip. "But only when you're ready to do so—only when you say the words."

"Soon," I reply.

Richard helps me re-dress and kisses me goodbye, before assuring me that he'll be at my parent's house for dinner around six. I leave his office and walk down the hallway by myself, and it is then that I notice Marlee's office door is open. Peering around the corner, I catch her in a phone conversation, and it doesn't take me very long to discern that she's talking about our case. I shiver untowardly at the information I somehow manage glean from her half of the conversation...

"What the hell do you mean, Timothy?!" she demands, fear at the back of her voice. "He skipped town?!"

Shit, I think to myself.

"Some bastard must've tipped him off—my moneys on that sister of his. Yes, I know she's best friends with the victim, Timothy, but friendship doesn't mean anything in this day and age when you come right down to it. Yes, loyalty does come at a price. Who knows? If I were her, I may have done the same thing..." Marlee trails off then as she turns around in her chair, spotting me in the hallway.

I put up my hand and wave to her, a Don't fuck with me expression now etched into every line of my face.

"Oh, shit. Timothy, I'm going to have to call you back—Seraphina Richardson is here." Marlee hangs up the phone and sighs, and walks out from around her desk. "Come in, Sarah," she says, pressing a button on her phone.

"Yeah?" I hear Richard say on the other end.

"Richard, there's been a new development," Marlee says, getting to the point as she runs her hands through her hair. "I need you down in my office right now."

"Marlee, I'm on the deadline for the Collins case..."

"Richard, it's an equally important case..."

"Marlee, I can't. It's not that simple..."

"Richard, dammit, listen to her!" I shout then, feeling uneasy at what I'd heard. "It's my case for Christ's sake!"

"Shit," Richard replies, and the line goes dead.

I hear him opening his office door, and his expensive shoes on the carpet as he makes his way into Marlee's office. I give a half-smile to his apologetic gaze as he comes up behind me, putting a protective arm around my waist. "Took you long enough," I mutter, and he squeezes my hip where Marlee can't see.

"What's going on?" he asks Marlee.

Marlee sighs, her eyes getting a worried tint to them as she runs her hands through her hair, exasperated at this turn of events. "That was just Timothy on the phone," she says, and Richard seems to automatically tighten his grip on my hip. "It seems as though Nathan was forewarned of his impending arrest and has fled."

"Where is he?" Richard demanded.

"His location is unknown at this point," Marlee replies, "but Timothy and I agree that whoever told Nathan of his arrest..."

"Someone told him?!" Richard demanded.

"We're guessing, but we just don't know," Marlee says, and I decide not to bring up that Marlee accused Caroline. "Right now, we need to keep Sarah safe—who knows what he's thinking if he jumped bail? What we know is that either he paid it off himself or someone paid to get him out..."

"I haven't spoken to Jessica, his other sister, since the night of the assault," I tell Marlee, my tone urgent, "but she's bound to know what's going on. Caroline must've filled her in. I love Jess, but she and I were never close on the level that Caroline and I were. I'm worried maybe her or Scott said something..."

"And Scott is...?" Marlee asks.

"That would be Jessica's fiancé," I reply. "They got engaged just a day or two before the assault took place. Scott's nice enough but his parents are ministers. He's left the Christian lifestyle but he has a strong moral fiber. He could've convinced Jess to forgive Nathan and to...bail him out." I shrug.

"Have you known Scott for a long time?" Richard wants to know.

"Ever since it got serious with them," I reply. "A few years..."

"Okay, here's what you gotta do," Marlee says. "You've got to call Jessica and see if she knows anything."

"My phone or your phone?" I ask.

"Yours," Richard says. "She'll recognize the number and pick up."

Nodding, I dial Jessica's number and listen to the rings...

"Hey, Sarah," Jessica says, friendly but clearly preoccupied with something. "Is your day going okay...?"

"Jess, I'm not blaming you for what happened," I tell her calmly.

She sighs a little then. "You wouldn't have, Sarah, even I know that. Have you talked to him at all?"

"Not since he broke into my house, no."

Jessica groans. "He always was a little unhinged—I'm so sorry we never took your worries seriously."

"Have you seen him?" I ask, and Marlee nods with encouragement.

"No," Jessica replies, and I believe her. "Scott and I saw him a day or two after the assault but we just had lunch for an hour or so and then we had to get back to work."

"And not since then?"

"No... Why this interrogation, Sarah? Is everything all right?"

With Marlee's signal, I reply then, "No, Jessica. Nathan somehow made bail and now he's skipped town."

"Made bail?!" Jessica cries. "After all he did to you?!"

I sigh. "I know it's hard to believe," I tell her, "but we just had to ask if you'd seen him. It's procedure—I'm sorry if I made you uncomfortable."

"No, it's fine," Jessica assures me. "I totally get it."

"I have a few other calls to make..."

"Sure, sure," Jessica says, her tone uneasy. "I'll call Scott and text you if he tells me if he knows something or not."

"That'd be great, Jess. Talk to you soon."

"Goodbye," she says.

"I'll call Caroline now," I say, putting in her number.

"The Seattle Sazerac, Editor & Chief Caroline Harper's line, Brett speaking," says the rather flamboyant voice of Caroline's new assistant—her eighth so far that year. "Who may I say is calling, please?"

"Hey, Brett," I say, attempting to keep my tone civil. "This is Caroline Harper's best friend, Seraphina Richardson calling."

"Oh, Seraphina!" Brett gushes, "of course! One moment please..."

I roll my eyes at the notion that Brett would know who I was; I'd only been to the office a few times since Caroline had taken him on, and I knew that the case had been kept out of the papers... "Finally," I say as I hear Caroline's rather customary intake of breath before she answers me.

"Sorry—budget meeting," she says, and I know that she has me on speaker phone because I can hear her shifting various article proposal documents around her desk. "What's going on?"

"Your brother is missing," I say, gripping the edge of Marlee's desk before finally permitting myself to sit down. "We don't know what's going on—I tried Jessica already, but nothing. Do you know anything?"

At once, the document shuffling ceases. "You know what, Sarah? I thought we had put this behind us."

"Me accusing your brother?" I fire back. "Because I wasn't lying about that—you know the DNA matched him to me."

Caroline sighs, knowing that she would be a suspect. "No, not that. Me willing to, I don't know, harbor him or something—I don't know what lawyers and cops are calling it these days. I don't know where Nathan is. He knows I'm supporting you in this and he stopped talking to me after he was arrested. He stupidly decided to use me as his one phone call to bail him out and of course I said no..."

Immediately, Richard leaves my side and gets on his cell phone. "Briggs," I hear him mutter into it, "I need some men watching the offices of The Seattle Sazerac at all times—Caroline Harper is the editor and chief, as well as Sarah's closest friend, and I think she may be in danger." He is silent for a few moments, and I hear the slight buzzing on the other end as Briggs answers before Richard responds, "We just received intelligence that her older brother, Nathan, was refused bail money from her so she may turn out to be a target due to him jumping bail. Thanks, Briggs..."

"And furthermore, I know the old saying that friends come and go but family is forever—or supposedly, really, considering that you're my family, too, Richardson!" Caroline says, her voice hurt. "Your parents let me live at your house for years for Christ's sake, plus I'm practically living with your brother, in a matter of speaking..."

"Frank's moving into the condo?!" I demand.

"We're discussing it, but that's beside the point," Caroline says, cutting my question off. "The point is, my brother has broken the law and has justifiably hurt you, therefore, he deserves to rot in jail. Was he there for me after not one but both our parents decided to pick their second families over us? Yes, but so were you, and you haven't broken the law."

I sigh. "I don't know what the policies are about dating your student's uncle," I say, letting out a nervous laugh as I try and fail to figure out what Richard's phone call to Briggs is all about.

"Probably nothing," Caroline replies. "Father, maybe, I don't know... Oh! A hot topic to write about!" she squeals, and I hear the scrape of her pen inside her notebook. "Caroline, this is serious," I say, shaking my head. "I've been going through my mind as to who Nathan would've run to, and..." At once, my mind fills with dread as I begin to consider it. "Please, just let me talk to you later," I say, and promptly hang up on Caroline before she can refuse.

"You'll also send someone to pick up Sarah's car from the parking garage," I can hear Richard whispering into his phone.

"Timothy, it's me," Marlee says, having called her husband, and I wonder then how the two of them have ever managed to make their marriage work, or to build a family. "Yeah, Sarah's making some calls right now..."

"Annette," I say, my voice filling with relief when she answers her phone. "Are you and the kids all right?"

"School ended twenty minutes ago," Annette tells me calmly. "I'm just on my way back to my apartment now. Is everything okay?"

I am awash with relief as I reply, "Yes. Yes, I'm fine. Nathan jumped bail and I'm going through the people who either know about him or know about the case in some way... I was afraid he'd gotten into the school and done something terrible or something..."

"Don't worry, I'll be on the lookout," Annette assures me.

"Thanks," I tell her. "I have some more calls to make and, if my boyfriend lets me, I'll see you at work tomorrow."

"Don't take 'no' for an answer, if he's just being protective," Annette says, fire in her voice at the potential danger of the situation. Since our first meeting, I knew how much she lived for the kids, which is why I also knew how fit she was for a career in teaching. "You know as well as I do the security measures the school puts in place to ensure safety for staff and students alike."

I smile. "I'll keep that in mind. See you tomorrow," I say, hanging up on Annette and quickly dialing my parent's number.

"Sweetie?" Mom asks.

"Are you with Dad?"

"Hi, kitten!" I hear Dad say in the background.

"Yes—your brother, Father, and I are heading Downtown for an early dinner with Caroline. Is something wrong?"

"Something's wrong," Frank says immediately.

"Put Frank on right now," I say, knowing that it'll be easiest to explain to him. Once the phone is passed to him, I deliberately try stalling him. As he is my twin, and, therefore, knows everything about me, he will know full well that there is something amiss and will call me on it.

"Come on, little sister," he says, immediately taking on the official older twin voice. "Tell me what's going on."

Completely surprised that Caroline hadn't called him in a panic, I replied, "I think you're going to be very upset... But Nathan's jumped bail."

"Shit," Frank replies. "Is Caroline...?"

"She's fine—we just spoke," I inform him. "Richard's apparently got some men surrounding her work building, so she's protected."

Franklin lets out a sigh of relief. "I approve," he tells me.

"I'm sure he appreciates that," I reply. "But now that I know you, Caroline, Jessica, and Annette are safe..."

"Is Tabby with you?" Frank asks then.

My blood runs cold. "What?" I ask.

"Tabby. She's linked to all of this—it's because of her upcoming testimony that we have leverage in all this..."

"Oh, no," I say, ending my call to him and promptly dialing Tabby's number. "Oh god, please, pick up," I say, willing for her to do so.

Suddenly, the link clicks, and I hear breathing.

I think immediately to say, "Tabby?" but I don't, because there's something all too familiar about that breathing that enters my tears, and suddenly I am being slammed up against the wall of my house, or The Electric Violin, all over again. Quickly, I put the call onto speaker phone, and Marlee puts Timothy on hold, as does Richard with Briggs, and they all listen for a moment. "Nathan, I know it's you," I say.

He whines a little, almost as if the jig is up. "I just want to know one thing... Why do you always gotta ruin my fun, Sarah?" he says, and I can tell that he's been drinking.

"Nathan, where's Tabby?" I reply, forcing my voice to remain calm, although I wanted desperately to find him and shake him for his idiocy, among other things. "I just want to make sure Tabby's okay..."

He whines a second time. "She's fine—or she will be," he declares, and lets out a disturbing laugh then. "They're all fine."

"All?" I say then, and realize that maybe Nathan hijacked her inside her car after she'd picked up the kids from school. "Nathan, do you mean to say that you've got all three of Tabby's kids with her?"

"Maybe I do, maybe I don't," he replies.

Marlee gave me a thumbs up and mouthed, "He does."

"Nathan, you don't want to do whatever it is you're thinking of doing," I say, knowing that if he went ape shit, he could do something stupid.

"Don't tell me what to do!" he shouts.

"Nathan... We can work this out, okay?" I say, looking at Marlee, who motions for me to keep talking to him. "We can work this all out..."

"Stop trying to feel sorry for me. It's over now!" he yells, and I hear the telltale sound of children whimpering in the background, so I know immediately then that he has them all there, too. "Shut up!" Nathan hisses, and the noises stop.

"Nathan, I'm not telling you to do anything. I'm asking you to do the right thing, I mean, think about it, what did any of them do to you, really?" I ask then, crossing my fingers that he didn't know anything. "You still know how to do the right thing, don't you? I know you, Nathan. I know you..."

"You know what they did," he replies. "They know what they did—what they all did—to me. I know what they did. And, soon," he says, his voice a deathly whisper, "everyone will know what they did."

"Nathan," I said, "I know what you want."

"You don't know anything—"

"But I do," I say, cutting across him, "I know what you want, and it's me. Take me instead and send Tabby and her kids home," I whisper.

"No," Richard says immediately to Tabby before speaking to me again. "No," he tells me, more firmly this time.

"Richard would never let you," Nathan replies.

"Screw Richard!" I say, exasperated. "Take me instead, Nathan," I say, a note of desperation in my voice, but, to my utter dread, the line goes dead.