Tonight was the night he would tell her everything.

He knew she needed a reason to stay; a reason to keep fighting, and tonight he was going to tell her he loved her. Arnold Shortman knew he only had a short time before Helga did something stupid like take her life; he had to reach her.

Arnold recalled the cryptic message Helga left on his phone:

'It's me, Helga. I have to get out. Bob has gone too far this time. I love you, always.'

Arnold knew about Helga's dad. Helga had showed up at Arnold's door on her fifteenth birthday. They had become close by then, since Gerald and Phoebe started dating. She was sobbing and covered in bruises. Silently, he led her into his house and cleaned her up. Against his own wishes, he had never told anyone about the incident, not even his grandfather. That was three years ago and her father's beatings had expanded. Now was he not only beating Helga, but everyone, including Olga and her mother.

Arnold berated himself as he ran. If only Arnold had been home ten minutes earlier, he could have talked her out of whatever she was planning. He had to keep running; he had to reach Helga before she did something really stupid.

He stopped running as he reached Helga's front porch. Arnold knew something was wrong. The place was shrouded in darkness and it was eerily quiet. He opened the front door.

"Helga?"

"What do you want asshole, she's not here!" Arnold tensed as the voice from the living room called out to him. Helga's father: he would recognize that voice from anywhere. He heard him take a chug from his beer can and stand.

"Mr. Pataki, do you know where she went?"

He stepped into the hallway and walked toward him. He struck Arnold, but Arnold stood his ground, after all, this wasn't the first time he was hit by a Pataki. He looked around him, seeing blood on Bob's knuckles and Miriam, the stay-at-home mother, was nowhere to be found. Arnold panicked and he brought his knee up to Bob's groin as hard as he could and then connected his fist to Bob's nose. Arnold knew this wouldn't keep Mr. Pataki down for long as he sprinted out of the dilapidated house and ran. Arnold did not stop running until he knew Mr. Pataki would not pursue him. He had to find Helga and he had to find her quickly.

He reached the lake he and Helga frequented. They seemed to visit here every day after Mr. Pataki became more physically abusive.

Arnold saw the tire tracks leading towards the pier. Arnold called the police. He fell to his knees as he saw Helga's silver Buick slowly sinking deeper into the middle of the lake.

The police arrived quickly and began to comb the lake as much as they could. They even checked Elk Island, but they never found her.

'Helga it's me, Arnold. I should have protected you. I love you, always."

Arnold stared out his window, recalling the night Helga left him. That was ten years ago and he could still remember it clearly, like it was yesterday.

"Mr. Shortman, your 10 o'clock appointment is here to see you." Stacy, his secretary, chimed in over the speaker phone, successfully knocking Arnold out of his reverie. Arnold looked at his clock: 9:45, early, he liked that.

He stood, straightened his tie and fixed his hair. He straightened his slacks and began his walk into the lobby.

"Pat Legalkine" Arnold called out into the lobby. A tall, young blonde woman stood and approached him. Arnold pretended to look disinterested in the woman before him. He didn't look up from his file folder as he led her into his office.

"Have a seat Ms. Legalkine." He told her, still reading through his folder. She sat, like she was told, and patiently waited for Mr. Shortman to actually acknowledge her existence.

"So Ms. Legalkine, you need a house built, is that correct?" Arnold began, still refusing to look at her, as he began to pull blueprints out of his desk drawer.

"Arnold, if you are going to talk to me, I would really appreciate it if you actually looked at me for once." The young woman started, crossing her arms across her chest.

"That's Mr. Short-" Arnold began, finally looking at the blonde before him.

"Stacy" he said into his intercom, "cancel all my appointments for the rest of the day."

"But, Mr. Shortman," the plump secretary began, as she nervously fiddled with her graying hair, "what about Mr. Wong?"

"Did I stutter, Mrs. Pillman?" Arnold replied. "Tell him I've come down with a nasty stomach bug and we will reschedule for tomorrow"

"Yes, Mr. Shortman, as you wish."

He disconnected from his secretary and stared at the woman before him.

"Alright Helga, we need to talk."