Max looked around the apartment from where she sat on the couch. Next to her rested a set of blankets and pillows Taylor had provided for her guest. A small brown coffee table rested in front of the couch. Max's luggage all sat in one corner of the living room next to a bookshelf. Max noted that many of the books in Taylor's collection pertained to photography and modeling.

Taylor's apartment had one bedroom and one bathroom, and was probably around five or six hundred square feet in size. In truth, this didn't seem that small to Max, who had been living in a tiny studio apartment since graduating from college; she guessed that the cost of living was probably much lower here than in Seattle.

"I hope Pablo didn't scare you too much," said Taylor, drying her hair with a towel as she walked in. She had changed out of her flannel shirt and jeans and was now wearing a gray cotton night shirt that came down to a few inches above her knees, revealing long tan legs; Max herself had already changed into her own sleeping clothes consisting of a t-shirt and a pair of shorts.

"I'll admit that he did scare me at first," replied Max.

"He's rough on the surface, but not a bad guy once you get to know him. Very protective of me and the other employees at the bar. He had to deal with some bikers earlier tonight that had just a little too much to drink and wouldn't leave at first when they were told to. One threw his glass against the wall."

"Jesus, that sounds scary."

"It's not the first time. They're regulars. Chances are, they'll be back later this week acting like none of it happened."

"Couldn't you ban them?"

Taylor shrugged. "They usually behave themselves. They always buy a lot of drinks when they're there and tip well. Besides, the leader is the sheriff's cousin, and we've found that laws and regulations have tended to not be enforced too strictly ever since they've been coming there."

Taylor walked toward the kitchen, paused, turned around. "I'm going to have a nightcap before going to bed. Want one?"

"Um, sure," replied Max. "What do you have?"

"Nothing fancy. Cheap red wine and Yuengling beer. I could also mix you up a rum and coke or a margarita."

"I'll have a glass of red wine, please."

Taylor came back out with a wine glass in each hand and set them on the coffee table.

"Taylor," began Max. "I've been meaning to ask...I remember you telling me about your mom back at Blackwell...said she had a back operation and such. How is she doing these days?"

Taylor's smile dropped. "It gave her some relief, but it didn't last very long. Her condition got worse and worse...I dropped out of college, moved back home, and took a job to support her. She eventually died. I moved out here not long afterward."

Max went red. "T-Taylor...I am so sorry...I didn't mean to..."

Taylor waved her off. "It was a couple years ago. Don't worry about it." She took a sip of her wine, and her smile reappeared. "Anyway, enough about me. I saw the stuff you brought with you. You're still doing the photography thing, huh?"

Max nodded proudly. "I started my own company. Blue Morpho Seattle Photography, LLC."

"Oh, wow. Is that why you were traveling tonight?"

"I had a gig taking photos at a wedding. I also do pregnancy announcements, family pictures, you name it."

"I remember you were more into the artistic side at Blackwell. Do you still pursue that much?"

"Yeah. I've had stuff displayed in local shops. I mainly do the weddings and other stuff for the money."

"Well, look at you living the dream—oops." While gesturing, Taylor had accidentally sloshed some of her wine onto herself. She giggled.

A short while later, after draining her glass, Taylor stood up. "Well, it's been good visiting with you, Max, but I think I'd better turn in for the night." She pointed toward the bedroom. "You'll have to go through my bedroom to get to the bathroom, so I'll leave my door open...just try to be quiet. Help yourself to the fridge if you want anything."

"Okay. Good night, Taylor. And thanks again for letting me stay here."

Max woke up in the middle of the night. This didn't happen most nights, but it wasn't unusual either. It took her a moment to remember where she was. Sitting up, she shivered as her blanket fell off; Taylor kept the temperature pretty low in the apartment. She looked for her phone before remembering she had left it charging at the wall to her left. Hugging herself for warmth, she walked over, being careful to do so quietly, and checked it. She was pleased to see it had now charged to 100%; she also saw that it was a little past two in the morning.

Realizing she was thirsty, she walked into the kitchen and turned on the light. She opened a cabinet, took out a glass, filled it in the sink. She lifted and started to take a sip.

That's when she heard a strange noise.

It sounded like heavy, fast breathing—hyperventilating. Max realized it was coming from Taylor's room. Setting the glass down, she walked quickly out of the kitchen and into the bedroom.

Approaching Taylor's bed and peering down, Max noticed a few things about the blonde woman, revealed by the dim light coming from the kitchen. First, Taylor had kicked off the covers despite how cold the apartment was and the fact that she was wearing only a simple cotton nightshirt which had now hiked up several inches. Second, she was sweating profusely. Third and most importantly, she was on her back and her eyes were wide open in terror as she hyperventilated.

"Oh, my god! Taylor!" Max ran out the room and returned a moment later with her phone. Unlocking it, she started dialing 911.

"Don't!" gasped Taylor, who was still hyperventilating. Max paused.

Taylor turned and look at her. "Don't call...them...please."

Max hesitated. "What's wrong?!"

"I'm...I'm having an...anxiety attack!"

Another moment of hesitation. Then Max nodded and canceled the call. She set the phone down on the bedside table. "Is there anything I can do?"

"Just stay...here with me...please...just for a little while." Taylor rasped out the words between breaths.

Max hesitated. "Do you...want me to get in next to you? I don't mind."

"Sure."

Slowly, carefully, Max got into the bed next to Taylor, on the blonde's left side. Almost immediately, the blonde woman reached over and gripped left Max's arm, pulling it toward herself. Max turned on her side so that she was facing Taylor and settled into an embrace, resting her arm on the other woman's stomach. Her head rested against Taylor's shoulder, and she felt her right leg touching the blonde's left one.

"Is this okay?" asked Max.

"Yeah," gasped Taylor. In spite of how sweaty the blonde was, Max was grateful for the warmth.

After what seemed an eternity, Taylor's breathing finally subsided. A few minutes later she shrugged off Max's embrace, sat up and turned on the lamp on her bedside table. She tugged her nightshirt back down. Her hair clung to her forehead.

"Thank you, Max."

Max stood. "I turned on the light in the kitchen when I got a drink of water. Was that what...you know, caused it?"

Taylor shook her head. "I don't think so. I've been having night time anxiety attacks for a long time. Since before Blackwell even. Not usually this bad though. I'm sorry if I scared you."

"I'm just glad you're okay."

Now that Max thought about it, she recalled Taylor having once mentioned the anxiety attacks to her on the night that Max and Chloe had broken into Principal Wells' office; of course, Taylor would not have remembered telling her as it had happened during the five days that Max had erased in order to save Arcadia Bay. She referred to this time nowadays as TWTW—The Week That Wasn't—in her diary.

"Taylor...have you seen a therapist about this?"

The blonde woman smiled weakly. "Weed and alcohol are pretty much the only therapy I can afford these days on my paycheck."

"I'm sorry. Is there anything else I can do to help?"

Taylor shook her head again. "No. You can go back to sleep. I don't think I'll be able to tonight. And thanks again."

"You know, I'm not feeling that tired myself," said Max. As if in agreement, her stomach growled.

Taylor's eyes widened for a moment. She looked up at Max, grinning. "You hungry?"

Max blushed. "Um, maybe a little. I haven't eaten since earlier this evening...or I guess that's now yesterday, isn't it? It was at the wedding reception."

Taylor nodded. "I'm feeling a bit starved myself. There's this breakfast diner not too far from here. Not the best food out there, but it's cheap and it's open all night. What do you say?"

Max smiled. "That sounds really good right now."

Author's Note: The next chapter will mainly be a long conversation, but it will reveal details about what happened to many of the other LIS characters since the events of the game. Thanks again for reading!