I take a break from grading papers around two o'clock to heat up some leftover macaroni and cheese for lunch. As I heat my slice in the oven, I log back in to my email account. There is another picture from my parents, and I see that the pair of them have now managed to perfect the selfie.

To my dread, there is another one from Richard as well.

From: Richard Berkshaw ()

To: Seraphina Richardson ()

Subject: Oh, There is Indeed a Case

Dear Sarah,

First and foremost, I love your full name. I am considering referring to you as such from now on.

I completely understand you're not wanting to discuss the specifics of what happened between you and Nathan at present. I haven't formally taken you on yet, and we haven't fully decided to be friends, so I really have no way to make you tell me anything. I have a good friend named Marlee who has been with the firm for four years and specializes in cases like these. She would be able to help you. I'll set up a meeting with the two of you if you would like.

Yes, many people do not understand the many tunnels you must pass through in order to obtain any degree in law. With this particular junction that we would convict Nathan, he would indeed have either payment or a lifetime behind bars, unless you requested leniency, or if the judge believed that it was necessary or appropriate in this case. I understand that you have a deep friendship with Nathan, as well as his family, but what he did was wrong, as I am sure the footage will show.

I've set up a meeting with you and Judge Donahue for two weeks from Monday at around five p.m. Can that work for you? She knows what your job is so she is willing to work around that. I do hope it works for you, Seraphina. Martha owed me a favor.

Well, since we do not pursue the death penalty for rapists—anymore, you will find that a man was arrested, convicted, and sentenced to die in California's gas chamber in the last century for kidnapping and rape, and was indeed killed in the gas chamber—Nathan being a dead man would not make sense. It will implicate him, of course, which would be good for the persecution, not so much for the defense. If he shows any suspicious behavior in the coming days —I'm usually in the restaurant three or four times a week—then we'll see about potentially tapping his phone.

You not remembering the attack clearly scares me, to be honest. I advise that you meet with Kit O'Hara, a top-notch hypnotherapist. She's amazing and she'll be able to help you. Let me know if you want me to make the appointment for you. I do want to help, Seraphina. Don't worry, I'm sure it will all work itself out. I know this could turn into a potentially frightening situation, but also know that you could be saving someone else from him. Also, I strongly suggest that you make an appointment with a physician to ascertain exactly what happened last night.

Sincerely,

Richard Berkshaw,

Attorney at Law

I sigh, pushing away from the computer. I pick up my phone checking for messages, ignoring the ones from Caroline and Franklin. Getting onto my contacts section, I find Dr. Lestrange's telephone number, and swipe it so as the phone will call. I'd seen Dr. Lestrange from the time I was about sixteen; I had gotten birth control from her, although that wasn't really necessary, considering that I wasn't as active as many people my age. I was very thankful that she also worked every day except Sunday.

"Hello, Dr. Lestrange's office. This is her assistant, Chloe. How may I help you this afternoon?"

"Hey, Chloe. My name is Seraphina Richardson. I've been a patent with Dr. Lestrange for about six years."

"Oh, yes, Miss Richardson," comes the steady reply. "I am pulling your file. It looks as if you're overdue for a physical."

"Oh, I see," I say, considering that as I carefully take the mac and cheese out of the oven; I knew I really shouldn't have been multi-tasking right then, but I was starving... "When is Dr. Lestrange's next appointment, please?"

"Just let me look over the books for a moment," Chloe replies, and I hear various papers shuffling around. "It looks like someone called about an hour ago with a cancellation. It is for four-fifteen. Would that work for you?"

"Yes," I reply, forcing my voice not to shake, despite the notion that I was getting somewhere positive. "Is she in the office now?"

"She is. Just got back from lunch about a half an hour ago. There are about fifteen minutes until her next appointment. Would you like me to transfer you over to her?"

"Yes, thank you."

"No problem. I'll set up that appointment for you."

"Thank you." Cheap-sounding music greets my ears as I chew and swallow my sinful meal, the melted cheese comforting me slightly. Tucking my ankles under my legs, I await Dr. Lestrange's answer to my call.

"Thank you for holding. Dr. Lestrange here," comes her familiar voice.

"Hey, Dr. Lestrange, this is Seraphina Richardson."

"Oh, Seraphina, how are you? I heard Chloe giving my cancellation to someone else," she says, and I can almost see her giggling, her blonde curls bouncing slightly. "I do hope that was you. She may have mentioned you were overdue for your physical. According to my charts, you were due about eight months ago now..."

I nod, even though she can't see me. "Yes, it was. Thank you. I really need to get in to see you as soon as possible."

"Is everything all right?" she asks, the concern in her voice mounting. "I don't want anything untoward happening to you..."

I shake my head, again forgetting that she's not sitting across from me. "It's not something I'd care to discuss over the phone."

"I understand completely, dear," she said, authoritative yet considerate. "Certain things are not meant to be discussed over the phone anyhow. Well, I'll see you around four, then so that you and I can discuss it properly."

"Thank you, yes. Goodbye, Dr. Lestrange," I say before hanging up.

. . .

Carefully putting Richard's last email out of my mind, I quickly dress in a pair of outside-the-house appropriate sweat pants, a different tank top, and put on my gray sweater to round it all out. Quickly brushing my hair, I secure it into a ponytail before yanking on a pair of socks and stepping into some sneakers. I bid goodbye to Ginger, after making sure that she has enough kibble and put my bag over my shoulder before stepping out of the condo and locking the door behind me.

I check the time and see that it is three-forty-five as I press the elevator button to go down to the parking garage. Taking into account potential traffic, as well as the mandatory forms I will have to fill out at Dr. Lestrange's office, and the likely difficulty that I'd encounter finding a parking space, I had just enough time to get there. I step into the parking garage, find my car, unlock it, get inside, and navigate my way out of there without incident.

There is only light traffic along the road, and I manage to get to the First Hill area without too much trouble. Going into a nearby parking garage, I park there before getting out and getting the elevator to the proper avenue outside. I walk along the street and, checking the time, see that it is barely four. I go into the Starbucks just nearby and order a Grande double chocolatey chip Frappuccino and pay before getting upstairs to the fifth floor to Dr. Lestrange's area of the hospital. I greet Chloe in person, making brief small talk before she hands over the paperwork and tells me to take a seat.

I fill in my name, the date, my social security number, and tons of the other miscellaneous information required on a medical form. I just finish signing my name for the sixth or seventh time on the final page of the last form, when a pair of feet stops about three feet in front of me. Looking up, I see Nurse Cassidy, a kindly middle-aged woman who more often than not takes care of me before Dr. Lestrange sees me. Nurse Cassidy gives me a smile and beckons me to follow her to the back. I hand over the clip board with the important documents and follow her.

"You got a haircut," I say, smiling at her. "It looks really nice."

"Thank you, dear," she replies, tugging a bit at her above-the-shoulder length, dark brown hair. "I just thought it was time."

I nod, understanding. "Well, it really suits you."

"Thank you," she replies, touched. "Are your parents still on that vacation? I remember you mentioning that they'd just booked it last time you were in here. What was that? About nine months or so ago?"

I nod. "Yeah, that sounds right. I was picking up some information on the residency program for Franklin, and you reminded me that I was overdue for a physical," I explain.

"And how is Franklin?"

I smile, my pride for my brother never behind a mask. "He's well, thank you. He just got back from Columbia University last night. He's starting the program here next month."

We get to the designated room and I'm told to strip down into a hospital gown and I do so, while Nurse Cassidy types up all my recent information from the forms into the computer. I perch on the edge of the examination table, watching the way her hands fly above the key board, remembering when I, too could type that fast. Since I'd started teaching, however, my writing had been neglected to the back-burner, and my typing had suffered, as a direct result of said neglect. I let my legs dangle for a moment before crossing them in a self-conscious and slightly self-deprecating manner.

Nurse Cassidy peaks over her shoulder at me and smiles. "Well, I'll bet you're happy that you have Franklin back in town."

"I am, really," I say, smiling a little. "We all celebrated it all last night at The Electric Violin—you know, the restaurant owned by Caroline's older brother, Nathan. It's about ten minutes from here."

"Oh, yes, that one," she says, smiling a bit and nodding in recognition. "I popped in there a few weeks back when I finally had a good night off. I finally got to meet Nathan. He's such a delightful young man."

I cross my legs again, this time tucking them beneath my chin, suddenly feeling violated all over again.

"Oh," Nurse Cassidy says, peering closely at the third or fourth page of the documents in front of her, not noticing my discomfort as she skims over what I've written, which will be of the utmost importance to this appointment. "It mentions that you were physically assaulted last night?"

I nod, biting my lip. "Yes, I was," I reply, beginning to shiver all over as I attempt to remember exactly what happened.

Nurse Cassidy turns to look at me, her dark eyes concerned. "Well, I'll get Dr. Lestrange in here right away to examine you."

"Thank you," I reply.

Nurse Cassidy quickly breezes through the final pages of the documents before giving me a nod and stepping out of the room.

I begin rocking back and forth on the examination table, tears pricking my eyes and managing to escape through my lashes and leave damp trails down my face. I put my face in my hands, feeling utterly pathetic as I contemplate what happened last night. All I remember is going in the back for some space, Nathan following me, grabbing me, and then Richard being there. But I was one-hundred-percent sure that there was a blank between the time Nathan grabbed me and the time Richard arrived.

Why had I been so angry? Any woman had a right to be angry if a man grabbed her without permission, and continued touching her, but why had I reacted so strongly to it? It was all a mystery.

Dr. Lestrange arrived soon thereafter, giving me a smile and greeting me kindly. She picked up my documents and looked over them, taking in a sharp breath when she got to the page where I briefly detailed the assault. Turning to me, she asked, "Can you tell me who assaulted you?"

"Nathan," I replied, "Caroline's older brother."

She nods, taking a seat and flipping to a fresh page on her notebook. "Tell me what happened."

I sighed then, knowing I that the time to speak was now. "I was talking to a parent of one of my students—Stephanie Berkshaw was her name, we've become friends—when Nathan came up. This was all at his restaurant, The Electric Violin. So as I said, Stephanie and I were talking, and Nathan approached me. He'd been a little handsy at the dinner table that night—we were all celebrating Franklin coming home."

"Nurse Cassidy told me that he was joining the residency program here next month. I'm sure you're very proud."

"I am," I say softly. "Really I am... But Nathan, he... He's always had a bit of a drinking problem, and I guess I should have been on my guard, more than usual, at least, because of how he was behaving at dinner..."

Dr. Lestrange reaches out and grips my hand. "I just want to impress upon you that none of this is your fault, Sarah, none of it."

I lower my eyes. "Thank you," I whisper, before continuing. "When he came up to me and Stephanie, he asked if he could steal me away for a dance. I said yes because I totally didn't mind—we'd be in front of other people, so I figured I'd be safe, and so we went to dance. It was all normal for a few moments, but then he and I got on the subject of love and romance and relationships and all that. He seemed a bit miffed because Caroline and Franklin had started a relationship that evening—after years of being attracted to each other. He asked me how I felt about them being together."

"And what did you say?" Dr. Lestrange asked.

I shook my head, trying to remember every word of the conversation. "I said that it was great, because they'd liked each other since high school. Franklin couldn't ask Caroline to the prom because he'd left the school two years before to begin classes at the University to Washington to get a jump start on his medical career. He waited too long because he was cramming for a final, and she found a different date, and so did he. I explained to Nathan that, even though we'd grown up together, that the two of them dating shouldn't matter, because they're two adults. He made it seem like, since we were all like siblings, that he didn't think it was okay, but I said that, since none of us were really siblings at all, that nothing was wrong with it."

"And then what happened?"

I sigh. "I think that Nathan got all jazzed up about my statement. I knew, I guess, that somewhere in the back of my mind, I knew that he had feelings for me. I never returned those feelings—he was like a big brother to me, even after he started to get handsy when we were in high school...and then...and then..."

"What, Sarah?" Dr. Lestrange asked.

I lowered my eyes. "And then he kissed me."

"He kissed you?"

"Yes."

"Did you kiss him back?"

"No."

"Then what happened?"

I grip the sides of the seat, thinking that another form of pressure would ease the pain of taking about another form of pain entirely. "I thought I did the sensible thing. I walked away from the situation. I walked to the back, where the restrooms, and the drinking fountain, was. I got a drink, to clear my head, and when I turned around, there he was. I attempted to tell him 'no' again, but he didn't listen..."

"What did Nathan do then?"

Biting my lip, I reach back up behind me and feel the hotness of the bump from the night before, where he had slammed my head back into the wall in a moment of uncontrollable rage as if had flowed through him in the moments leading up to his following me. Perhaps that was how I blacked out... "He kissed me again," I go on. "He kissed me again and grabbed me and slammed me against the wall. I kept saying 'no', and told him to stop, but he didn't listen. He seemed...turned on..."

"Why do you think that?"

"He was breathing heavily," I reply, my voice shaking. "And I felt him...against my leg. I remember screaming into his mouth and, when he would kiss in other places, he'd cover my mouth to keep me from screaming. I remember...hurting...down there...and that's when I kicked him."

"You kicked him?"

"Yes. In defense. I kicked him in the balls."

A wry smile appears momentarily on Dr. Lestrange's mouth before it immediately disappears for she knows that she had to be professional. I watch her write hurriedly before tapping her pen momentarily and chewing on its end. "And then what?"

"And then Richard showed up."

"Who's Richard?"

"Richard is Stephanie's brother-in-law. He was there with them that night. He knew Nathan, and told me that he believes Nathan has had a bit of an alcohol problem."

"How did you get home that night?"

"Richard took me. He's a lawyer and told me that I should probably get some legal help when it came to my situation with Nathan."

"He'd be right," Dr. Lestrange replied, finishing her writing and hesitating for a moment. She set her notebook and pen aside, before getting to her feet and going towards the sink at the opposite end of the room. As she washed her hands over the chrome basin, she turned around halfway and spoke over her shoulder to me. "It looks like I'm going to have to give you a vaginal exam," she says quietly. "The authorities—and everyone else—will want to see what happened."

I nod, lying back as Dr. Lestrange dries her hands and snaps on a pair of examination gloves. She asks me to remove my underwear and I do so, then allow her to place my feet in the stirrups. She pulls her chair so as she can look at me properly, and shines a light, the heat sending tingles of discomfort through me.

"It's all okay," she says, briefly touching my leg to calm me. "Oh..."

"What?"

She sighs. "It's all right," she replies. "I need to know, Sarah... Are you a virgin?"

I nod. "Yes."

Dr. Lestrange shuts her eyes for a moment before opening them again and peers back at me for a moment. Then, she reaches forward and gently touches me to exam me, and I let out a small scream.

"Is that where it hurts?" she asks.

"Yes..." I whimper.

"Based on this, I think Nathan penetrated you with something," she tells me. "I need to know if you remember hearing him unzip something."

I shake my head. "I don't think so."

She nods. "Well, then it was probably his finger. Could Nathan have put his finger inside you?" she asks.

I nod. "Yes. He has a callus on his right index finger. I remembered feeling something slightly spherical when I felt the pain...down there."

"Did you shower last night or today?" she whispers.

I shook my head at her. "No. I was too tired from last night and when I woke up, I got caught up in some work..."

"Good," she tells me, getting to her feet.

I sit up slightly. "Good?" I ask her.

Dr. Lestrange nods as she walks to the door. "That's very good," she replies, and opens the door; I can hear her heels briefly as she goes to find a nurse. "Nurse Cassidy, I'm going to need a rape kit in Exam Room Three."

"Rape kit?" I ask, feeling my eyes widen.

Dr. Lestrange sighs and comes back toward the examination table. "I'm so sorry this has happened to you, Sarah. You can't know how sorry. To have your trust violated like that is a very hurtful thing. I'm afraid I have to administer a full exam here and gather evidence to hand over to the authorities about this assault. I know it can be a violating thing, but I really believe that it is the best thing for you at this time."

I lower my eyes. "All right. Assemble away."

. . .

The findings weren't much better. They move me to a large and private exam room before taking samples of DNA from where Nathan had debased me and I'm left feeling violated all over again. They decide to give me some time alone, and I curl myself into a fetal position and begin to sob. When they say that they found evidence of sexual assault, and I just can't believe it. They've called police, and I'm expected to talk to them. I check my phone and Franklin—through a short text—has informed me that he and Caroline have picked up Mom and Dad from the airport. My mind snaps—that means that their phones will be in service again. Feeling a ray of hope, I quickly dial my mother's number, dread filling me once again as it rings more than three times. The hope shines again when she picks up on the fourth ring.

"Hey, sweetheart. How are you?"

"Oh, Mama," I say, feeling my lower lip trembling as I begin to sob.

"Baby, what's wrong?"

"I'm...at the hospital," I manage to get out.

"What are you doing there? Aren't you overdue for your physical?"

"That was the original intent of the visit," I say quietly to her. "But it seems that something else mattered more..."

"What mattered, honey?" she asks me, concerned. "Oh, god, Sarah, you're not... You're not pregnant, are you honey?"

"No!" I cry out, wondering if that would be a better alternative.

"I'm sorry, baby. What's happened?"

"I've been sexually assaulted," I reply.

"Baby... Baby, what are you talking about?" she asks, and I sense the panic behind her voice. "Baby, tell me you're joking..."

"I wouldn't joke about this," I say, trying my best to keep the anger out of my voice as I feel the tears pricking my eyes again. "Mama, I'm sorry...so, so sorry for everything, I..."

"You're in with Dr. Lestrange?"

"Well, she's seeing other patients now," I reply lamely. "But, I mean, she was the one who examined me..."

"Good, good," she replies, her tone steadying. "We'll be there promptly, darling. Your father and I will bring along Franklin and Caroline, too. I need you to know that I'm coming, baby. I know you need me."

"I do need you," I reply.

My room had a rather large window seat, to which I'd escaped from my bed, and looked outside at the skyline, many tall buildings, as well as the passerby.

I looked up at the knock at my door about twenty minutes later. Perhaps it was the Jell-O I'd asked for fifteen minutes ago. Maybe it was Dr. Lestrange coming to check up on me. Maybe it was neither of those things...

"Come in," I said, half expecting that another police officer would demand to talk to me. Tears fell from my eyes as I saw my parents, who had been gone six weeks. I reached up like a child and let them hold me, as I sobbed in their arms, never wanting to leave the safety of their embrace ever again.

"Who the hell would do something so terrible?!" Franklin demanded, as soon as I'd calmed down enough to talk to them all. "I'd like to give that rat bastard a piece of my mind! To kick him right in the—"

"Franklin!" Caroline cried, who by this time had her arm around me. "Don't say things like that! Sarah needs our comfort right now. Whoever it is, we need to be there to love and support her."

I sigh. "I hope you remember that statement when I tell you who did this to me," I say softly to her, my shoulders shaking with dry sobs.

Caroline turns and gives me a confused look at that. "What? No matter who it was, I'm on your side, Sarah. You know that."

I shake my head. "I just don't know if you can keep your promise."

"Sarah, you're my best friend!" she says defensively, almost as if she is angered that I would doubt her sincerity. "We've lived together since graduation, and I was always crashing at your place through the years, and especially after my folks split. No matter who it is, I'm there. Whatever you want, whatever you need."

"And that goes for all of us, kitten," my dad says to me, his hazel eyes—the ones I'd inherited—looking concerned from behind his glasses. "You know as well as I do that I've got some good lawyer connections, baby. We'll get you the best lawyer out there, no matter what the cost."

"That's right, William," my mother says before turning to me. "We'll get you a council if we have to. We'll get a female judge if we can." She gently pulls at my hair, moving it into place, sighing a bit as she always does because, though our hair is the same, hers is much more manageable than mine.

My father sighs at her. "Matilda, please. Enough with Sarah's hair right now. She's been through a hard day."

"Night," I reply. "It happened last night."

"You left The Electric Violin with Richard Berkshaw last night," Caroline says softly, peering into my face. "Is he the one who did this to you?!"

"I'll kill him," Franklin growls, immediately taking out his phone, his free hand morphing into a fist. "What's his number?"

"Frank, calm down," I say, shaking my head at him. "No. It wasn't Richard. It happened at the club, before I left."

"You were talking with Jessica and Scott after dinner," Franklin says softly, his gaze almost immediately darkening as he considered the unthinkable. "I saw you laughing with Jess. Did Scott catch you unawares?"

"Frank, my god!" Caroline cries. "Scott would never do something like that! He comes from a tight-knit Christian family. His parents are ministers for god's sake. Even though he's an atheist, he still has a fantastic sense of right and wrong and completely believed in monogamy. He's proposed to Jessica, for goodness sake!"

"It wasn't Scott," I reply softly.

"What about Paul Berkshaw, Richard's older brother?" Caroline asks. "He talked to you last night, didn't he?"

I nod. "Yes, but only in Stephanie's presence."

"Who's Stephanie?" Dad asks.

"Paul's wife. She and I have bonded over their little boy, Harrison. Remember, I told you two about him? He's the exceedingly bright young man who somehow knew how to spell and define antidisestablishmentarianism."

"I don't even know the definition," my mother says softly.

"I had to look it up when he told me that he knew the word," I reply. "I know the word, of course, but the definition surprised me. It has something to do with political positions in the Church of England. Fascinating subject..."

"So it wasn't Paul Berkshaw who did this?" Franklin asked.

I shook my head. "No."

"Well, do we know him?" Caroline demands.

"Oh-ho yeah," I say, bringing my legs to my chest, effectively closing myself off from her, just in case things turned ugly. "You, all four of you, know him very well."

There is another knock on my door then and Dr. Lestrange pops her head in with a kind smile in every direction. "Ah, Mr. and Mrs. Richardson, it's wonderful to see the both of you again. I hope that your trip was wonderful, but I'm sure this can't have been an easy homecoming for you."

"No, Dr. Lestrange, it wasn't," Dad puts in.

She nods and turns to Franklin. "Well, Dr. Richardson, I hear that you're going to be a part of the new residency program. All of the doctors just got their list of assignments today, and it looks as if I'll be supervising you."

Franklin smiles. "I look forward to it."

She smiles and turns her blue-eyed gaze to Caroline and promptly and politely puts out her hand; it is an automatic gesture, something she has done for years, hundreds of times a day. "Dr. Eliza Lestrange. You must be Caroline Harper. Sarah's told me all about you. I love your columns in The Seattle Sazerac; very innovative."

"Thank you," Caroline replies. "Next week is all about recycled materials and about how they're becoming a fashion statement."

"Well, I look forward to reading it," Dr. Lestrange says kindly before taking hold of the back of a chair and bringing it forward to face me. She sits down and opens the rather pitiful-looking file in her hands. "Well, Sarah, I've got your results here. You were indeed sexually assaulted, and it looks as if from our sample, there was a foreign DNA inside you."

"How is that possible if we didn't...?" I trail off, uncomfortable with telling everything in front of my parents.

"Your pain also had to do with the fact that you had a piece of an abnormally thick fingernail inside you," Dr. Lestrange replies, and I shudder. "Due to your swift kick into the man's private area, he was attempting to hold on. The nail must have already been loose, but the jolt of pain he felt caused him to fall to the ground, like you told me, thus allowing the nail to break off inside you, thus, DNA evidence. It is being taken to the crime lab to figure out if there are any hits on it."

"Hits?" my mother asks.

"Hits mean that, if the man who assaulted Sarah has been convicted, or brought in, for a similar crime—or any crime, really—then the database will know of it. Thankfully, Sarah knows the identity of the man who assaulted her, which is both a devastating and potentially dangerous thing."

"Was it Nathan?" Franklin demands then, and I feel my eyes lock to his. My twin's face turns into something else entirely then, and he knew automatically.

You could hear a pin drop; it was so silent in the room.

Caroline's sharp blue eyes immediately snap to Franklin. "I can't believe you! Now you're accusing my brother? Is this some sort of witch hunt with you, Franklin?!" she cries, giving him an appalled look.

"I'm trying to get to the bottom of what happened to my sister," Franklin replies defensively, his gaze locking to mine again before drifting back to hers. "You said to her that you wouldn't care who it was, that you would stand by her no matter what. Am I understanding that you're prepared to take Nathan's side against my sister?"

"She didn't say it was Nathan," Caroline said quickly, turning to look at me in a reassuring manner. "It wasn't Nathan, was it Sarah? Nathan would never do something like that, I know he wouldn't. I mean, he's my brother, and a friend to all of us. He just wouldn't do something like that..."

"It was Nathan," I whisper, and I can't bring myself to even look at her, not now. "Nathan was the one who did this to me."

Caroline laughs uncomfortably. "This is all a joke, isn't it?" she asks, her eyes flying to Dr. Lestrange. "Or did you plant this seed in her head?"

Dr. Lestrange narrows her eyes slightly. "Oh, I'd be very careful and contrite when it comes to what I say right now, Caroline. There are policemen waiting to interview Sarah to figure out the specifics of what your brother did to her."

"Lies!" Caroline shouts, darting forward and making a grab for my file. Her eyes quickly rove over the words, and she shakes her head. "No... No, no, no! My brother would never do something like..."

"According to Sarah, there were cameras in the restaurant," Dr. Lestrange says quietly amid Caroline's outbursts. "That means that there is existing footage of Nathan assaulting Sarah, and Sarah is prepared to testify to that fact."

"You...you wouldn't!" Caroline cries, the file dropping from her hands as she falls to her knees in front of me. "You wouldn't betray my brother, Sarah, would you?"

"Caroline, he assaulted me!" I cry, finally permitting myself to lock eyes with her for the first time. "I deserve justice!"

She shakes her head. "I've already told you, he wouldn't do something like that. Here's what we'll do. We'll tell the courts that you were drunk and that you asked him for it. That's what happened..."

"I'm not going to lie for Nathan, Caroline. I'm not lying to anyone. Nathan deserves what he gets."

"Unless it's no prison time," Franklin growls.

"The judge will show leniency," Caroline says desperately. "Nathan is a good person; he wouldn't do this..."

"What the hell kind of 'good person' sexually assaults my sister?!" Franklin demands, and he looks as if he wants to grab Caroline and shake her, despite all the years of romantic tension between them, I felt then that he would be on my side, no matter what. "No judge should show leniency to a creep..."

Caroline reaches out and slaps Franklin without hesitation. "My brother is not a creep!" she cries out. "Nathan is not a creep!"

"Caroline!" my mother cries out in shock at her behavior.

"Lies, all lies!" Caroline says again. "Nathan would not do this!" She turns back and looks at me. "I can't believe you would do this to him, to me, to our family, and now you're even ruining my relationship..."

"Dr. Lestrange, can you please get someone to show Caroline out?" I ask, my voice wholly icy, knowing that she definitely had to go. "I don't want her here to continue to blame me for things that did happen and didn't."

"I'll take her," Dr. Lestrange says without hesitation, putting a no-nonsense hand upon Caroline's arm, pulling her towards the door. "Come on, Miss Harper. Sarah has requested that you leave. Let's go."

Caroline attempts to wrestle away, but Dr. Lestrange holds firm, her pale eyes shocked at this unexpected turn of events. "You're hurting me!" she complains.

"I served as an army nurse after medical school," Dr. Lestrange tells her as she takes her to the door. "Trust me, I've seen it all." After she likely hands Caroline off to a police officer, Dr. Lestrange comes back. "I've spoken to the officers and they tell me that they can wait until you're back home to talk to you."

"I live with Caroline," I say softly. "I can't just go home—not now..."

"You're coming home with us," Mom says firmly. "You know your room is waiting for you, in case you ever needed to come home."

"Are you sure?" I ask.

"Of course, kitten," Dad says, kissing my forehead. "You've been through a terrible ordeal, and you need your parents and brother at your side, before anything else happens that we can't prevent..."

"Can she leave?" my mother asks Dr. Lestrange.

"Yes," Dr. Lestrange replies. She hands over a slip of paper to me. "This is a prescription for some anti-anxiety medication. It will keep you calm. You can get it filled at the pharmacy on the way out."

"But my things..." I say quietly.

"I'll head over later with Franklin and get them. Just make me a list," Dad says as the pair of them head out.

"I think your clothes will be in this cupboard," Mom says as she walks to the other side of the room to give me and Dr. Lestrange a little space.

"Here is the number and address of a support group," Dr. Lestrange says quietly to me. "It's for victims and survivors. Just think about it. I'm not about to give you homework."

I chuckle. "Thanks for the reminder," I tell her. "I'll have to get my dad to get homework assignments I'm supposed to correct."

After filling the prescription, I give Franklin the keys to my car so as he can drive us to our childhood home. Mom and Dad live in the Sunset Hill area, about fifteen to twenty minutes north of my condo. It is right near the beach, and quite close to what is known as Historic Ballard. It is right near my favorite museum, The Nordic Heritage Museum, where I made many day trips as a little girl, fascinated by the history.

Franklin pulls my car into one of the four car garages, one of which will fill the car he intends to buy very soon. He instructs me to wait in the car so that he can walk around and get me, and I chuckle at this behavior, yet say nothing of it, not wanting him to get uncomfortable. I almost protest when he lifts me, but I see the glint in his eye and know full well that I won't be able to dissuade him in the slightest.

"You really are a piece of work," I grumble sarcastically to my twin as he carries me through the door and into the house. "Hey, where are Mom and Dad?" I ask immediately, looking around, after being greeted by Otis, their golden retriever with a heart of gold, literally; he was quite close with Ginger, thankfully, as well as any other animals he ever came into contact with. "I thought they'd be back by now..."

"Mom took your list and decided to head over to the condo with Dad," Franklin replied, setting me down in the television room, on the best couch. Otis jumps up and curls himself around my feet. "I thought it would be better than heading over there myself."

"Oh," I say softly as Otis inspects my clothing. "I'm really sorry if I ruined things for the two of you..."

"Now, you stop it," Franklin tells me.

"What?" I ask, spreading my hands in confusion. "I don't understand. Why are you on my side?"

"Because you're my sister," Franklin says simply. He sits down on the coffee table in front of me, staring at me intently. "I may have been in love with Caroline since high school, but none of that matters now. She betrayed your friendship with her behavior today. I don't know why, although I kind of do. I think she sees her loyalty to Nathan as one that is worthy of being of a higher quality than her loyalty to you."

"Wow...that's exceedingly and painfully insightful," I reply, dropping my head dramatically against the pillow behind me. "Are you sure you want to practice medicine? It seems to me that you'd do well being a psychologist..."

He grins. "Well, some of my professors suggested it, although, in the end, they told me that my insight would do well for me in surgery."

"Well, it seems to me that your professors were right."

Franklin nods as his phone vibrates. "They just got to the condo," he says, his eyes quickly scanning the message. "Looks like Caroline isn't home. They are having a little difficulty getting Ginger into her cat carrier, but it looks like it'll work itself out. They got your laptop, various chargers, all of Ginger's food, treats, and toys, her bed, and Mom is taking care of getting fifty-percent of your wardrobe into a sufficient travelling case. They are also going to the store, and Mom says she'll make anything you want for dinner."

Seeing as it is after eight o'clock, I know that they will want to go to bed by eleven, as per usual. My own phone buzzes, and I peer at it, fearful that it will be Caroline. Thankfully, it is just Mom calling.

"Sweetheart, don't think of it as an imposition," Mom tells me. "Come on. Tell me what you want to eat."

"Your spaghetti and meatballs," I confess, reaching out to clutch Franklin's hand. "I'm just so glad that I have all of you around me..."