I made a call to Tabby after Franklin headed up to bed. Tabby was a notorious night owl, and Gavin had a bit of a sore throat, so she was staying up. I said that she would be invited to the meeting the following day with Marlee, but I didn't want to keep her and Gavin apart, so I knew it would be better to cut the call early. Tabby explained that Gavin was improving and that she would be available the following day.

I went to bed after that, smiling to myself at what had transpired between me and Richard. I was giddy about seeing him the following day, and wondered what would happen. I slept until nine-thirty the following morning, and was surprised when I smelled pancakes. Excited, I got out of bed, threw on my robe, tugged on my slippers, and dashed downstairs.

"You two were out late last night," I say, shooting my mom and dad both a smile as I take my seat across from Franklin.

"Late-night party over at the Stevenson's house, kitten," Dad replied, mulling over the front-page story in The Seattle Times. "Wendell and Betty sure know how to throw a good get together—Wendell had his famous brandy and Betty made those incredible meatballs, and they even had cocktail wieners," he said, patting his stomach approvingly. "Their daughter Suzanne is getting married."

I raise my eyebrows and turn to Franklin, who dated Suzanne briefly in high school to get over Caroline. "Well, I hope that she does well with her new husband," I reply.

Mom giggles as she brings a platter of fluffy-looking pancakes over to the table. "Suzanne is marrying a woman."

"Oh!" I say, nudging Franklin. "Well, isn't that nice? It's Lucy Sullivan, isn't it, Mom? I've seen the two of them around town...and on Facebook...and on Instagram," I say.

"Yes, really a lovely young woman," Dad says, taking two pancakes and bringing them onto his plate. "They plan on honeymooning in Cambodia. They also have it in their heads to adopt a little boy from there."

"Well, adoption is a beautiful thing," I say, taking my pancakes.

We speak of the meeting that afternoon, and I ask my parents about their day and what will happen in their respective schedules. Dad has half a dozen appointments lined up, but it will probably turn out to be more, due to his walk-in policy. Mom is meeting Rupert and Eric in the University Village to gush about potential clients. And Franklin is coming to the meeting with me to see Caroline.

"How was the date last night?" Mom asks.

I feel my cheeks heat as I lower my eyes, not completely comfortable with discussing this in front of Dad and Frank. "Well..."

Dad gets to his feet, his pancakes half finished. "I've got some paperwork to go through in the office," he says, leaving.

"I said I'd call Caroline," Franklin says, following Dad.

"Men," my mother says, rolling her eyes. "Now, sweetheart, what happened last night with you and Richard? He seems like a very nice young man."

"Oh, he is, really," I reply. "In fact, we've all been invited to a party. He's invited you and Dad, Franklin and Caroline, Tabby and Jason, and me to a party at his family's house."

"Where do they live?" my mother asks.

"Mercer Island," I reply.

"When is it?"

"Sunday," I reply. "I may have checked the planner and I know that Dad takes weekends off, and you don't have any appointments or meetings this weekend either."

"What kind of party is it?"

"A formal tea party, apparently," I reply. "Richard says that it's a big deal to his mother and little sister, who's flying in from Florence."

"Try saying that five times fast," my mother says, shooting me a good-natured grin. "Well, I do love tea and hats..."

I grin back, excited to get to the next part. "And apparently Mrs. Berkshaw and Ivana—who is Richard's younger sister—are your biggest fans, Mom. Richard called you Tilda Richié, your pseudonym. Apparently Mrs. Berkshaw and Ivana always manage to book you for their parties and such, but they've only met Rupert."

"Oh, yes, I know the house. We call it Berkshaw Manor down at the office. It has a cobblestone driveway, leading up to a curved path, and there are carved lions by the front door, made from marble. It's a double door type, and its amenities are amazing. A total of five bathrooms, four half baths, eleven bedroom suites—including the master—and a guest wing. There are four other wings to the house, one for each child and one for Mr. and Mrs. Berkshaw. It's a three floor place, not counting the basement or the attic. A fireplace in every bedroom, and they have a private indoor pool in what used to be a guesthouse. And there's a courtyard and land surrounding it, and there's a lake view and they have access to the lake. They even have a stable, and keep about half a dozen horses, too."

"What on earth do his parents do to afford all that?" I want to know.

"Thomas Berkshaw owns Berkshaw D.D.S.," replies my mother as she proceeds clearing the dishes from the table. "Apparently Adelaide was getting a cavity filled and she and Thomas fell in love, right then and there. He had to call in his assistant dentist for the rest of the day to keep the practice going. Then they had Paul and Ivana."

"And Richard?" I ask.

She shakes her head. "Paul is blond, yes?"

I nod. "Yes, but..."

"Have you seen pictures of Thomas and Adelaide?"

I nod. "Yes, Stephanie's shown them to me. Thomas has gone gray, but she tells me that he was a redhead. And Adelaide was a blonde, too..."

She nods. "And Richard...?"

"Has dark brown hair," I say. Thinking back to my rudimentary biology skills, I quickly determine something. "Mom, was Richard adopted?"

She nods at me. "Yes. Rupert told me himself. Adelaide told him at some point during one of the parties."

"Richard...poor, poor, Richard," I whispered, my thoughts drifting to what I assume could have been an unhappy childhood, had he not been found by the Berkshaw family. I decided to get ready immediately so as I'd have enough time to soothe him before the meeting. I got into the shower and, all the while, considered why Richard hadn't informed me of his adoption. It wouldn't have mattered if he was adopted or not, but I would have liked to have been privy to the information.

I noticed that the bruises had begun to yellow and I was pleased to see that. I got out of the shower and dried off, blow drying my hair as I did so. Stepping into my bedroom, I decided on a knee-length burgundy skirt, a white ruffled blouse, and simple black heels. I put on a golden locket which had once belonged to my grandmother around my neck and some red lipstick. I dragged my brush through my hair and, pleased at how I looked, checked the clock in my bedroom. It was after eleven, so I knew that we would have to "get out of town"—as my mother always said—very soon.

I left my bedroom, after putting a simple gray sweater on top of my blouse, and tucking my keys into my purse and went to Franklin's bedroom. I tapped on his door and, after getting permission to enter, stepped inside. Franklin was wearing navy blue suit pants, a patterned button-down shirt, and a sports coat on top. He was just getting into his socks and shoes as I walked in, and smiled, taking note of the jingling sound coming from my purse.

"You're driving?"

I nod. "Yes."

"All right." He takes his phone from the charger and puts it into the inner pocket of his jacket and turns back to me. "Ready? I'm meeting Caroline for a quick bite and a drink at the Starbucks. Maybe that way you'll have time to rendezvous with your boyfriend."

At once, I feel my cheeks heat. "Richard isn't my boyfriend, Frank..."

"Yet," he says, grinning as he walks past me and down the stairs. We walk past the kitchen where we see Mom, carefully loading the breakfast dishes into the dishwasher. We walk in and kiss her cheeks in turn, telling her we'll call when we're heading home, and then walk by Dad's office. He's just finishing with a phone call, so Frank waves and I blow a kiss as we walk by. We can hear him chuckling as we walk off.

We step into the garage and I automatically unlock my car. I get inside the driver's seat and Franklin gets into the passenger side. I back out of the garage and we head off down the street. We make our way past the Locks—where boats can go through, north to Canada or south along the coast—and go towards Market Street and the Ballard Bridge.

Once across Fifteenth Avenue, we go on towards the Ballard Bridge. Franklin asks if I want a drink from Starbucks and I request a Grande cupcake Frappuccino and a chocolate chip cookie. Franklin makes a face at the multiple amount of calories I'll be consuming, but I wave it away, promising to eat a salad later if I have to. We soon passed the Ballard Bridge, the multiple underpasses, and go past Queen Anne and Magnolia before getting into Downtown. Taking some back streets, we get to the parking garage and I find a decent parking space, next to the stairs and near an elevator to get Franklin to the Starbucks to see Caroline.

I am excited to see Tabby, as I've made a call to Dean Channing, who agreed to set up a meeting with her and Jason, regarding her children joining the school community. I have his permission to pass on his number so as they can coordinate a good time. He's asked me to sit in on the meeting, for—as the teacher with the smallest fourth grade class that year—I am the worthiest candidate for taking Henrietta into my class.

Franklin gets out and waves, saying that Caroline is waiting down the street for him. I wave back, taking the elevator to the proper floor, and inform the secretary of my noon appointment with Marlee. I am about twenty minutes early, so I am naturally told to wait. I sit down in the waiting area, and get onto my phone to check my email. I am about to tell Richard that I'm here, only to have a young woman to barge into the reception area, which startled me, and rightfully so.

Blonde and beautiful, she bounds to the front desk. "Diana!" she squeals, her tone worried as she gets closer. "Where's Richard?! It's an emergency!"

"Calm down, sweetie," Diana replies evenly. "I'll get him." Diana presses a button behind the desk. "Richard, she's here. Yeah, I'll tell her. Thanks." Diana presses another button and looks up at the girl. "Go ahead in, dear. He's expecting you."

The girl nods her thanks and dashes back. I am, at once, suspicious, but I decide not to let it get to me. I email Marlee and tell her that I am here, and she comes to the front to collect me. She sees my face and raises her eyebrows to it.

"Your face, usually like a ray of sunshine, is as dark as a storm cloud today, Sarah," she remarks. "What's going on?"

I sighed then, not wholly sure how to put it. "Richard and I have kind of been seeing each other," I say softly as we enter her office.

She raises her perfectly-plucked eyebrows at that. "Oh. I would have thought someone would have told you the obvious."

I scoff. "That he's dating a hot blonde? Yeah, I kind of just figured that out," I grumble back at her, flopping into one of her chairs, crossing my arms.

Marlee shakes her head. "No. We had a break in last night."

At once, I am on her. "A break in?"

Marlee nods, sitting in her chair. "Yes. I'm afraid that they came into my office, managed to bust the lock, and found out the code to the safe—I don't know how, I swear. They got into the footage we have on Nathan's restaurant—from the night he assaulted you. They've destroyed the footage, Sarah. As of right now, there's no physical evidence—other than the rape kit by Dr. Lestrange—tying Nathan to you."

"Shit," I whisper, tears pricking at my eyes. "Shit, shit, shit..."

Marlee nods. "Double shit, really," she replies, hastily pushing a box of lotion-laced Kleenex towards me, shaking her head.

"Didn't anyone get anything on camera?!" I demand.

She shakes her head, gritting her teeth. "Apparently, they had someone working for them back there, and the guy was good. They managed to edit out them coming in here, except for the part of them busting the lock in my office, and them at the safe—it must have slipped their minds."

"And let me guess—nobody can get a positive I.D. on the person because they disguised themselves somehow?"

Marlee nods. "Yes, exactly." Sighing, she shakes her head, and we are silent for a few moments. "What's this about Richard dating a hot blonde?"

"I thought you and Richard were close," I mutter.

She nods at me then. "Yes. We're best friends, but..." She picks up her phone and rifles through it briefly before nodding. She clicks something and turns it to me. "Was this the so-called 'hot blonde'?" she asks.

Peering closer, I see a hot blonde—the hot blonde from the reception area—kissing Richard's cheek. In the picture, Richard is rolling his eyes, yet he is smiling at the same time. The girls' arms are wrapped around Richard's shoulders—one in front, one in back—and Richard had his arm around her waist.

"Yeah, that's her."

Marlee smiles at me, pulling her phone back towards her. "You've got nothing to worry about, Sarah," she replies.

I raise my eyebrows. "You've seen her!" I cry. "She's way more physically attractive than I am, and..."

"You're far more intelligent that she is, trust me," Marlee replies, waving it away with a perfectly manicured hand. "And while Ivana is more conventionally beautiful, Sarah, you're more classically beautiful," she tells me, her voice firm, in an effort to get me to believe her opinion. "And besides, Richard has a love for brunettes."

I blink, shaking my head at her and feeling as if I've been unexpectedly doused in a fair amount of cold water. "Ivana?" I ask.

Marlee nods. "Yes."

"Ivana, as in Ivana Berkshaw, Richard's little sister?"

Marlee smiles. "The same."

I put my head into my hands. "Oh, god...oh, god...oh, god..."

She giggles at me then, and I pull my hands away. "Don't worry. I won't tell Richard what you thought—it's too disgusting to even fathom."

"Once you consider their relationship, yes..."

Marlee picks up her phone and presses a button. "Richard, I've got Sarah in here pining away for you. Yes, actually, it's very funny," she says, giving me a grin I'm reluctant to return at this point. "Yes, she knows who you're with. Well, I would have thought you'd have wanted to do the honors, but... Okay, okay. Yes, there's fifteen minutes to the appointment, so you can borrow my office to see her. Yes, it's fine. No, I'd love to see her. All right. Cool." She hangs up the phone and gets to her feet.

"What's happening?" I ask.

"Richard is coming to see you and I'm going to see Her Majesty, Princess Ivana of the House of Berkshaw."

"Your Highness..."

Marlee turns. "What?"

"'Your Majesty' is more of a term for a king or queen," I say, my voice devoid of any emotion whatsoever. "Since you've dubbed Ivana to be a princess, then 'Your Highness' would be more appropriate in this circumstance..."

Marlee nods to herself before slipping out. I get to my feet and walk around her desk to stare at her incredible view. The cool autumn sun is out today and gleams against the sides of many buildings around us. I can see the water of Lake Washington beyond, and the sun sparkles on the surface. The door opens behind me and I turn, more slowly than I intended, to see Richard's face.

"Hi," I say.

"Hey." He crosses the room and stands within an inch or so from me. He takes my hands in one of his and, with the other, puts it to my cheek. "I missed you last night."

I blush and lower my eyes. "So did I."

"How was the rest of your evening?"

"Interesting," I confessed then, peering up at him. "I accidentally walked in on Franklin and Caroline in a fit of passion."

Richard raises his eyebrows. "I see."

I sigh. "Needless to say, both of them and my parents have accepted the invite to your mother's tea party."

He chuckles at that. "Wonderful. Mother will be pleased."

"Richard..." I sigh and shake my head. "My mom told me about your adoption. Now, I'm not angry," I say in a rush, hoping that he will not be so with me. "I think adoption is a beautiful thing, but..."

"But you're wondering why I didn't tell you of my... Biological parentage," he says, gripping my hands slightly.

I nod. "Yes."

He sighs then, shoulders deflating. "For now, let me apologize for not being honest, and for you to have to discover it from that of a third party. Can we leave it at, my birth parents were not the proper ones for me, and that they were ill-prepared, and unwilling, to take on a child at that point in their lives?"

"Yes, of course," I replied, closing the distance between us. I rested my head upon his shoulder, and he wraps his arms protectively around me. "I know you will tell me when you think the time is right."

He dips his head down to mine and brushes my lips with his. "Thank you," he replies. "You are too good."

I smile. "I attempt to be." I stand on my toes and kiss him again. He doesn't take long to deepen the kiss, and I find I don't want him to stop.

At once, he pulls back. "Not that this isn't wonderful," he says, more than likely seeing the crushed expression on my face, "but we promised to wait until Sunday."

I smirk. "After we've known each other over a week?" I ask. "I make a rule that I have to have five dates with someone before I..."

He kisses me again. "Are you free tonight?"

"Well, yes, but..."

"Then, let's have another date tonight, and another tomorrow. By the time Sunday rolls around, we'll have had well over five dates."

I smile. "All right." Looking around, I shake my head. "Did Marlee tell you about the break in last night?"

"She didn't have to," he replies. "Someone managed to get into my files and even lifted some of them. Our people are on it."

I sigh. "Did Marlee tell you what was stolen?"

"No, not yet. We've had meetings all morning since seven."

I sighed then, knowing what was coming. "The footage—the incriminating evidence against Nathan—was stolen this morning. Caroline told me that the guy who sent it to us wipes everything clean after a certain amount of days, so..."

"Dammit," he says, letting me go. "I can't believe it."

I sigh, shutting my eyes for a moment. "I have a plan."

"What kind of plan?"

Opening my eyes, I walk up behind him. Encircling my arms around his waist, I rest my cheek against his back. I feel his heart beating, and it helps me get through what I have to say. "We need to devise a sting operation."

At once, he turns around, his eyes excited. "That's completely genius, Sarah! I'll go in there with a wire, and..."

"No, not you, Richard," I say firmly. "It can't be you. Whoever got the tape must know that you were in the footage by this point. We'll get Marlee's husband in on the plan, as well, to ensure maximum security for everyone involved. I'll find a neutral location, and then we ask Nathan to come. I'll talk to him, one on one, and we'll get him to confess, through recording, why he did what he did."

"I won't let you do this alone," Richard says firmly.

I sighed, shaking my head. "Then, Tabby is the one who should be with me. He did something far worse to her."

"I know about the rape," Richard says softly, pressing his forehead to mine. "That must have been devastating for one so young..."

"And then the matter of the baby," I say, shaking my head.

At once, I have his attention. "The baby? What baby?" he demands.

I raise my eyebrows at his surprise. "You mean you don't...?" I shake my head then, knowing that I have to remain as on top of this as possible. "Tabby had a son named Jeremiah when she was eighteen years old," I say softly. "Jeremiah was confirmed—though an interesting channel—to be Nathan's son."

"Nathan wouldn't willingly give up DNA," Richard guesses.

I nod. "You're right. Tabby lifted some DNA from Caroline, and there was found to be similar patterns in their individual DNA, making Caroline his paternal aunt, according to the findings of the lab."

"How did Tabby know for sure?" Richard asks.

"Tabby—although now she is an outspoken atheist—came from a rather strict Catholic upbringing, which favored no sexual contact before marriage," I explained in a patient manner to him.

Richard nodded. "I see."

"So, after the rape by Nathan, Tabby knew that—at seventeen—she would be seen as a deviant because Nathan was only fifteen at the time, and therefore, authorities would have frowned on her claim of assault and be more prone to believe Nathan, the younger party, because Tabby was the older party and, therefore, should have had more control, in the eyes of the law, at the situation."

"You're brilliant!" Richard cries.

I chuckle. "Highly logical," I correct him. "Anyhow, after only a few weeks of wondering what to do, she met Jason, a self-made oil millionaire. Jason was, and remains to be, a wonderful man. Jason agreed to marry Tabby and they got married, because Tabby had been weeks away from turning eighteen. They then moved to California, where Jason formally denounced any claim that Jeremiah wasn't his, but privately adopted him because, for years, Tabby claimed not to know who the biological father was."

"And they're still married?"

"Yes, and happily. They had two other children."

Richard nods, already at work in his head. "You and Tabby will arrange to meet at a neutral location. When Tabby arrives later, we will instruct her to remain open and friendly, so as to get all the information you can. You will both be outfitted with wires. If Nathan brings up his night with you at The Electric Violin, laugh it off, or make light of it. I know it sounds crazy, but you have to get him to keep talking, to incriminate himself. We need him to actually acknowledge what he did to you. As for Tabby, she must make light of her situation with him as well, and only ask questions that he poses to her. If Nathan asks her questions—or you—you must only respond 'yes' or 'no'."

"What if it's not a 'yes' or 'no' answer?" I ask, worried.

"Then short answer," he replies. "Keep it casual, low-key, and above all, don't let it get on that you're recording everything."

"I'm frightened," I whisper.

Richard nods. "I know. But you can't let Nathan know that."

I walk out to the reception area when Diana pages Marlee, telling her that Tabby has arrived. I embrace her and take her back to Marlee's office, where Franklin and Caroline have also gathered. I let Tabby take a seat before I go to stand near Richard, apprehensive about the meeting. Marlee has heard of the sting operation and is about to tell everyone else about it before calling in her husband to organize it.

"We've had a break in last night," Marlee tells everyone else. "It seems as if the person behind it had someone on the inside, for nearly all the footage that caught the perpetrator was destroyed."

"Nearly?" Caroline demanded, always paying attention to the minor details in people's conversations.

Marlee sighs. "Yes. The only evidence we have on the guy is him breaking into my office and getting into my safe."

"Your safe... Where the footage of Nathan violating my sister is kept?" Franklin asks, eerily calm.

Marlee nods, pursing her perfectly red, lipstick-covered, lips. "Yes. Unfortunately, that seemed to be exactly what they were after, because this morning, after we all received word about it, we were all instructed to check our safes and filing cabinets." "They managed to lift about two dozen of my files, and the perp's takings were not limited to recent documents," Richard quickly puts in, leaning slightly on Marlee's desk to distract himself from potentially throwing something. "They got all my information on this case, as well as a bunch of information on several different cases."

"They took the evidence of Nathan doing what he did to Sarah?!" Franklin demanded, his face turning red in anger.

"Yes, I'm afraid so," Marlee replies.

Franklin turns to Caroline. "Call the footage company again," he demands, his tone desperate. "They can send Marlee another copy!"

"It isn't that easy, I'm afraid," Caroline says smoothly, used to negotiation tactics when it came to difficult situation. "My contact informed me that he wipes the system clean every twenty-four hours."

"Dammit," Franklin says, slamming his fist down upon Marlee's desk in a moment of frustration at the situation. "Dammit all..."

"Which is why Sarah has mentioned the idea of a sting operation," Marlee puts in quickly, ignoring any potential damage to her desk.

"A sting operation?" Franklin asks, looking from me, to Richard, and to Marlee. "I'll need a little more information here."

"I'd meet with Nathan," I say quietly.

"No," Franklin says immediately.

Tabby straightens in her seat then, curious. "Would I go with you?" she asks, ignoring my twin's outburst.

"Sarah suggested it," Richard replies, "but only with your consent. She doesn't want to do anything to make you uncomfortable."

"No," Franklin said again, more firmly this time.

"This whole situation is uncomfortable," Tabby replied. "But Nathan needs to be brought to justice. It may be too late for me, but Sarah needs it done for herself as well."

"Do we have your permission to fit you with a wire?" Marlee asks. "My husband, Timothy, is the chief of police, and he would arrange the whole organization. We would have you two meet Nathan in a neutral location, and speak calmly and rationally, answering with only a 'yes', 'no', or some other kind of short answer."

"And how would we arrange this?" Tabby asks.

"This isn't happening," Franklin says.

"Someone—one of my husband's officers—would go incognito to The Electric Violin, and tap in to his part of the conversation," Marlee explains, continuing to ignore Franklin's concerned outbursts. Then one of us would outfit the both of you with a wire while one of you makes the call."

"Sarah should make the call," Tabby replies, not unkindly. "I only exchange the occasional Christmas card with Nathan, and Jason only told me to do so because then it would appear less suspicious. We don't want any suspicion drawn to us..."

"I'll make the call," I reply. "When can we do this?"

Franklin and I were told to return home and wait for the police to get in touch with us. It would happen around three, they said, and so we were instructed to wait. Caroline and Richard came as well for support and, after checking in on her kids, Tabby came to join us as well. Dad was seeing a few outpatients that day, and Mom was working on a banquet in Downtown Edmonds, so both would be gone for several hours.

At three-fifteen, Chief Timothy Stanhope came to our front door, and we let him into the house. He greeted Richard warmly, and several of his officers came into the house as well. "Everyone, these officers are my close friends and the best people for the job. This is Officer Martin Radcliffe," he said, introducing a man with jet-black hair and blue eyes. "This is Officer Raymond Harcourt," he said, introducing the one who was of middling height, and balding brown hair. "This is Officer Leo Essex," said Chief Timothy, nodding to the African American gentleman. "That's Officer Harry Fox, Officer Ben Percival, and Officer Campbell Trotter," he said, pointing out a blond man, an Asian man, and a man who looked as if he could be homeless.

"What do we do?" Franklin asks.

Chief Stanhope nodded. "I have to instruct everyone, with the exception of Seraphina and Tabitha, to remain silent as the phone call goes on. We don't want to screw this up," he said firmly, giving Franklin a look like a principal would give a student who could potentially give them trouble. "Seraphina will make the call."

I sit up straighter on the couch, feeling comfort as Richard sits beside me, Tabby on my other side. "That's fine."

"You'd better use your landline," Timothy says carefully, and Franklin immediately gets to his feet, retrieves it, and hands it over to me. Timothy, who has a wire attached from his midsection, and connected to his ear, which looks like a hearing aid, whispers, "Are we all set at TEV?" he asks.

I hear some buzzing then and feel comfort that Marlee's husband has a contact at the restaurant. Timothy nods to me to begin.

"You're on," he says.

Biting my lip, I pick up the landline and dial the number. Shivering, I do my best to hold onto my parents' seldom-used landline. I press the speaker phone button at Timothy's motion and wait.

"The Electric Violin, this is Matthew," says a voice.

I look at Timothy, panicked. However, at his instruction, I know just to be myself. "Hello, can I speak to Nathan, please?"

"Who may I say is calling?"

I clear my throat. "Tell him it's Seraphina Richardson," I reply, attempting and failing to picture Matthew in my head.

"One moment please," Matthew says, expecting nothing.

Timothy gives me a thumbs up as I'm put on hold. I shiver, and Richard pulls me closer to him. I so long to lean into him and forget about all the people around us, but we have a job to do. A job I promised to be a part of.

"Nathan here," a voice says on the other line.

"Nathan!" I cry, like I'm greeting a long-lost friend—which is not too difficult considering that, a few days ago, that's exactly what he was.

"Hey," he says cautiously.

I look at Timothy, who mouths to keep it natural. "How are you?"

"Fine, thanks. How are you?"

"I'm incredible, fantastic," I say, forcing myself not to speak through my teeth at him. "You'll never guess who's in town."

"Who?" he asks, obviously relieved that I'm not going to back him into a legal corner over the phone.

"Tabby!" I cry, flashing a grin at her, and she does her best to smile back. "She and her husband are moving back with their three kids."

"Wow, really? It's been... What, twelve years?" he asks, feigning surprise.

"Yeah, well she and I were talking about getting together for lunch and she thought that it'd be great if you could join us. Jason is coming tomorrow so that they can go house hunting—I mean, they're moving back to the old area! Isn't that great?"

"Yes. Fantastic," Nathan replied.

"So, like I said, we're busy tomorrow, but we're all free Sunday. How does your schedule look?" I ask.

"Sunday's great," he replies, and Timothy gives me another thumbs up at how well I'm able to keep it cool. "How about 8 oz.?" he asks, naming a semi-upscale burger joint near my parent's house. "I've been in the mood for burgers lately."

I turn to Tabby, who nods at the proposal. "I'll check with her, but I think that'll be fine. What time should we do it?"

"How's one?" he asks.

"That's perfect," I say, just a fraction of a second after Timothy and the rest of the officers give me the thumbs up for a third time. "I guess she and I will see you then."

"Great," he says. "So, no hard feelings, huh?"

I turn to Timothy, who nods for me to continue the conversation. "No hard feelings? About what, Nathan?" I ask, not wanting to jeopardize the mission, but also wanting him to admit to what he did.

"About the other night, you know, when you were here," he says.

I sigh, looking up at Timothy, who quickly gives me a gesture not to pursue this topic of conversation over the phone. "Of course not," I say.

"Good," he replies. "See you Sunday," and the line goes dead.

"Of course, my officers will be picking him up then," Chief Timothy says as I properly hang up the phone, "as we'll all be at the tea party."

Immediately after hanging up with Nathan, I run upstairs to my bathroom and throw up for exactly ten minutes. I grip the sides of my toilet, sobbing and vomiting all at once, attempting not to fall down in despair. I hear footsteps behind me and feel Richard's comforting hands on my shoulders, going up my neck, and gently gripping onto my hair before managing to put it into a ponytail. He rubs my back momentarily, letting me know that he is here for me, but he does not overstay his welcome. He then retreats to my bedroom to give me space but close enough to know that he isn't deserting me.

I am at last able to get to my feet and I cross my bathroom to the mirror and gaze at my reflection. I am pale and look disgusting, but I know it will get better once I brush my teeth and wash out my mouth. I do so, and then wash my hands and take my hair back down. I brush it, and then go into my bedroom where I sit beside Richard on my bed.

"Sorry you had to see that," I say lamely.

He smiles at me then and takes my hand. "What you had to do was ugly. I should have never agreed to it."

I shrug. "It had to be done."

"You're very brave, you know that?"

I shrug again, a bit ruefully this time. "Oh, I don't know about that." I purse my lips, suddenly not wanting to be in my childhood bedroom. "Tell me, Richard, and don't lie... Where do you go to get out of your head for a while?"

He looks at me for a moment before pulling me in a gentle manner to my unsteady feet, and just holds me for a moment, allowing me to lean on him. "Come on," he says after half a moment, grabbing a sweater for me as we walk out of my bedroom. When I throw him a questioning look, he replies, with a sweet smile at me, "It's a surprise."

"But... Chief Timothy," I say.

He smiles at my consideration towards the mission. "Franklin and Caroline said goodbye to them; they're gone."

I shake my head, chuckling to myself as Richard leads me from my bedroom and out the front door of parent's house, and raise my eyebrows as he opens the passenger door to his car for me. I get inside, and buckle myself in as he walks to the other side and lets himself in. I say nothing as we head down the street, to Market Street, and then turn onto Fifteenth Avenue to the Ballard Bridge. We go over the bridge, and then make a right, going above the first underpass and then go on a curved left turn and then continue to head towards Queen Anne.

After passing various apartment complexes, and small businesses, we pass a bank on our right, and then turn down that street. We pass the campus of Seattle Pacific University, and continue up the hill ahead, and keep going up it until we come to a five-way stop. Kitty-corner to us is a hardware store, and to our left is a real estate business. Around us on every other corner are houses, and we make a right and continue on that street.

We come to a corner where there is a small market, which nearly has every parking space in its small lot occupied. I wonder then what makes the market so special to have so many customers. Directly next door to the market is a tiny coffee shop, and kitty-corner is a dry cleaner, and soon we are going forward another block before turning left and continuing on that street for a time.

Richard then pulls off to the side of the road and parks his car efficiently. He then gets out and escorts me out of the car, telling me to stare at the ground until he gives me permission to look. Giggling at this, I allow him to lead me across the street, where my feet hit grass soon after crossing. Looking up, I see a sign which reads Parsons Gardens, and, all around me, is a small-looking, secret garden, which fills me with joy.

Ahead for the next several yards or so, was some brightly-colored green grass, seemingly untouched, despite all the children that likely ran through there. I look around the grass, and there are large, flowering bushes around the plain, and a dirt path encircling it all. Richard takes me along the path, naming various flowers as we walk, and I spot a tree that looks perfect for children to climb. I spot a stone bench which Richard leads me to, and I sit beside him, resting my head on his shoulder.

"This place really is beautiful, Richard," I whisper. Behind me is a stone-like, square-shaped, flower box, built into the ground, that would look better as a rose pond. "How did you find this place?"

"On the day of the verdict of my first case, my client was found guilty," he tells me, his voice a whisper. "I was so angry that I left the courthouse and was driving on automatic pilot—I wasn't really watching the road."

"I see."

"Finally, when I couldn't drive anymore, I stopped the car," he continues then, his index finger gently roving over my knuckles. 'When I looked up, here I was."

I picked up my head and looked at him, my brows knitting together. "And they say that you're the best lawyer around, in the state, and that you haven't ever lost a case." I arch one of my eyebrows. "Should I be worried?"

He smiles. "Of course not, Sarah. The verdict was thrown out on a technicality and my client was then found 'not guilty by reason of temporary insanity', on the record. It was so rewarding to be given a second chance like that." He takes my hand. "I never thought that I'd be given a chance like this."

"Romancing one of your clients?" I ask.

He chuckles. "Technically you're Marlee's client..."

"I know."

"I'm just glad that I've found someone like you, Seraphina Richardson," he replies, gazing at my profile. "You're amazing in every way."

I turn and smile up at him, kissing him briefly. "Looks like I may have to throw out my other statement earlier, about you not working hard enough to get to my five-date rule. We just need one more between now and the tea party, and you qualify."

Richard smiles, wrapping his arms around me. "I'm glad."

I sigh, burrowing into his arms, wanting to feel him holding me. "I'm scared about meeting Nathan at any point before this goes to trial. I know that you, Tabby, Marlee, and everyone else will be there, but what if something goes wrong? What if Nathan and his lawyer cook up something between now and then? What if they both manage to dig up some dirt on me and Tabby? What if...?"

Richard gently takes my head in his hands, placing his forehead against mine. "I know how scared you are, Sarah. I am, too. I don't want to lose this."

"Neither do I," I reply.

"We could lose our minds, and our heads, wondering 'what if this' and 'what if that'," he says simply, tangling his fingers in my hair to calm me down completely. "It's a really scary thing—a rape trial. If you do half as well as you did today when it becomes your turn to testify, I know we can pull this off."

I shake my head, lowering my eyes, yet feeling secure beneath his gaze. "I know we can, do all that, too," I reply. "I know we can do all that and more."