A/N: Thanks to everyone who reviewed, favorited and/or added this story to their alerts so far! It's good to know some people actually still want to read what I'm writing and I'm not just talking to myself on here. If you reviewed again (or for the first time) this chapter, it would mean a lot to me. Especially considering I'm going to be on a seven hour cross-country flight to Los Angeles tomorrow and would like some nice words to read while I'm at the airport. (Also since I hate flying, if you wanted to pray for short security lines for me as well I wouldn't object.)

Disclaimer: I'm not affiliated with the TV series Revenge.


February 14, 2017 11:57 p.m.

Southampton, New York

Humans are equipped with basic, primal instincts.

"Ms. Anderson, where were you between the hours of five and eight this evening?"

Olivia looked up at the cops standing before her, who were waiting for her response. She ran her hands up and down her arms, still cold from standing outside. Nolan was on the other end of the couch, not looking at her, his hand stuffed in his pocket – she wondered if he was still gripping the paper with which he had confronted her moments before.

The mentality which we need to survive in the world we live in.

"I was at home," Olivia replied. "Getting ready for this party."

"And where is home exactly?" One of the officers asked.

"One of my former co-workers is out of town and is letting me use their apartment until I can find a new place to live." She explained. "It's in Brooklyn so about a two hour drive."

"Can anyone corroborate your story?" The second cop asked her. "Or were you home alone?"

Perhaps the most basic instinct is the need for protection.

Olivia got a nervous feeling in her stomach. Hailey was nowhere in sight, and nevertheless her daughter hadn't been with her all night. There really was no one who could verify her whereabouts. Unless… "Nolan," She piped up. The man looked up at her from the other end of the couch at the sound of his name. "Nolan, I was home tonight, wasn't I?" She looked at him, her eyes pleading for him to go along.

She couldn't go back to jail. She couldn't.

The need to protect yourself from perceived threats.

"Actually," Nolan said, looking at the cops and not at her. "I don't know for sure. I was at The Hamptons Beach Club until about nine. I had a few drinks and then came here. The bartender can attest to that." The cops nodded and he rose to go but Olivia grabbed his arm.

"What the Hell?" She whispered through clenched teeth. "Nolan, please. They think it was me! I can't go back to prison!"

Nolan smiled sadly at her. "I want to trust you...but right now I can't." He wrenched his arm free from her grasp, before walking out of the room.

And from things that might cause you pain.

Olivia rose and put her face in her hands. She could practically feel her blood pressure rising and turned to follow him. "Ms. Anderson," One of the cops called. "We have some more questions."

"I'm sorry," She said, looking back at him. "I just need a minute."

Once she was in the hallway she let out a breath she hadn't even realized she'd been holding. Her face felt a good ten degrees hotter than it had moments before. Nolan was right – she was a liar. And now he probably thought she was a murderer too. And she couldn't blame anyone but herself for that.

After a moment she found Hailey, standing by herself in the dining room, pressing buttons on her phone. She stopped and stared at her for a minute, deep in thought. Hailey was the best thing that had ever happened to her in her sorry life. When she felt like she had no reason to go on, Hailey had been the motivation she needed to live. She couldn't lose her too…

We all have our ways of protecting ourselves.

Olivia walked over to her, knowing what she had to do. "Hailey, honey." She began softly. Her daughter didn't even look up. "I need to talk to you…"

"What?" Hailey asked, finally realizing she was being spoken to. "Oh, sorry Mom. I'm kinda preoccupied right now. Later?"

Olivia was silent for a moment, then gave in. "Okay," She said, before walking off dejectedly.

Once she was gone Hailey pressed her phone to her ear, listening as it rang. "Dammit," She mumbled when she once again received only the machine.

When we experience what feels like danger.

"Spencer!" She said, once she heard the telltale beep. "Where are you? You haven't answered me all night and I'm starting to get worried. Please call me back, okay?"


October 17, 2016 8:30 a.m.

The Bronx, New York

Olivia felt uncomfortable as she walked through the prison bathroom. All around her, people turned and stared when she walked by. It had become painfully clear to her right away that she was notorious around here – the bombing had been such a high-profile crime that even the prison inmates knew everything about her.

She walked up to the sink and turned it on, frowning when she saw the grotesque color of the water that came out. It wasn't quite clear, but murky. She was about to suck it up when she heard the sound of footsteps, approaching her from behind.

Olivia spun around and was immediately face to face with three women – one who was clearly the leader and two others who flanked her sides. And all of them were at least twice her size.

"You're that girl right?" The leader said menacingly. "Who blew up that building?"

Olivia gulped – she knew it wasn't really a question. "That's what they say. But it's not true."

The leader stepped towards her. Once she could see her up close, Olivia realized she had seen her before – she was the woman who'd spit on her. "My little brother – he was a paralegal. A real good one too." She paused, a frown on her face. "He's dead now. He died cause of your bomb."

A look of pure horror crossed Olivia's face. "Oh my God." She said. "I am so, so sorry…"

The woman shook her head. "Sorry doesn't cut it."

Olivia opened her mouth to explain herself but the women inched closer to her. One of them cracked her knuckles. "No, please –" She said, but she was cut off when one of their fists connected with her stomach.


Nolan was startled from a deep sleep by the persistent ringing of his cell phone. Sleepily he leaned over and fumbled for it in the dark. "Hello?"

The person on the other end of the line began to speak, and at first he didn't comprehend what was being said. Then suddenly, he bolted upright. "What did you just say?"


As Spencer strode down the hall of Hailey's dorm, he could feel the eyes of passersby all pointed in his direction. Not only was he unrecognizable to them, but he was a guy in a girls' dorm. He didn't care though, focused on his mission, walking determinedly to Hailey's room and rapping on the door. "Hailey? It's Spencer. Can I come in?"

A few moments passed before the door opened just a crack. "Go away," Hailey bemoaned. The door was opened so slightly that all he could see was half her face, her tired looking eye pointed at him and her messy hair further obstructing her visage. "I just want to be alone."

She tried to close the door but Spencer stuck his hand between it and the frame, preventing her from doing so. "Hailey," He said, his voice soft. "Please, it's about your mom."

After a moment's hesitation the door opened wide, granting him access. By the time Spencer walked through the doorway Hailey had already turned her back, starting to walk back to her bed and plopping down face first. Her hair was sticking up in the back and she was only wearing an oversized T-shirt and a tiny pair of shorts, like she'd just been sleeping moments before. "I just told you something is wrong with your mom," Spencer said. "And you don't care?" Still, Hailey didn't respond. "Hailey, your mother was attacked this morning."

She turned her head and looked at him. The look in her eyes was so blank and expressionless, he wondered how she could be so indifferent. "Is she gonna be okay?"

Spencer nodded. "They think so."

"Good," Hailey said. "Cause I'm really not in any position to see anyone." She moved to roll back over again but Spencer impulsively reached out and grabbed her shoulder, halting her mid-motion.

"Are you hungover?" He asked. Hailey only blinked at him in response, and that was the only answer he needed. He backed up and put his face in his hands. "Oh my God, Hailey. What is the matter with you?"

"It's really none of your business, Spencer." She finally stood up, her arms crossed over her chest defensively. "You have no idea what I'm going through."

"Of course I do!" He thundered. "I lost my parents too, remember?"

A long silence settled between them. Spencer looked at her, breathing heavily from his sudden outburst. Hailey shifted from one foot to the other, staring at the floor. After a moment she opened her nightstand drawer and retrieved a manila folder, bursting at the seams from whatever she had shoved inside. Spencer watched her curiously as she extended it for him to take. "I think I found my father."

Spencer took the folder in his hands, smiling hesitantly. "Well that's good, isn't it?"

Hailey stared at him silently, a haunted look on her face. "Spencer," She said gravely. "My father…my father is Maxwell Hanna."


In the process of getting the beach club ready for opening, Amanda paused from stacking glasses, checking her phone to see if Nolan had sent her another message – no new notifications.

"Any more from Nolan?" Jack asked as he exited the kitchen, bringing with him a new batch of freshly washed dishes.

"Still nothing," She said as she took the new load and placed them on the counter. "They may not even let him see her."

"Hopefully Olivia's okay," Jack said, but he paused when he saw the somber look on his wife's face. He touched her shoulder comfortingly. "Everything alright?"

She nodded feebly. "Yeah. Just makes me think about...you know."

"Worst kind of déjà vu, huh?"

They were interrupted by the reappearance of little Carl, a panting Bay at his heels. "Daddy, Bay wants to go outside."

Jack looked at Amanda and once she nodded – affirming that she was fine by herself – he turned his attention to his son. "Alright little man, let's go."

He opened the door for the dog just like he did every day, not even really paying attention at first. Bay ran forward excitably, but then he froze, suddenly beginning to whine and then running back inside. Confused by the dog's behavior he looked up, and that's when Jack saw them.

A million camera flashes all seemed to go off at once. "Is it true that Olivia Anderson was attacked in prison today?" One paparazzo asked.

"Jack!" Another called out. "Are you aware of any possible relationship between Nolan Ross and Olivia Anderson?"

"Do you and your wife have any doubts about becoming involved in another high-profile terrorism case?"

From behind, Carl began to peek out, wondering what was going on. Jack turned back around, spotting the little boy cowering behind his father's legs. "Go back inside," He ordered and Carl immediately backed away. Amanda pulled him into her awaiting arms, having left her position at the bar to see what was going on, and held Carl close to obstruct him from view.

Jack turned to look at the paparazzi again, his blood boiling at this point. If these vultures wanted to follow him, fine – but his kid? His kid was off limits. "If you ever come here again," He said sternly. "You will be slapped with a lawsuit so fast your heads will spin." And then he slammed the door without another word.


"Hello?"

Drew sat up a little straighter in his chair, surprised that she'd finally answered the phone. This was the third time he'd tried to reach her and this time she hadn't picked up until after it already went to her machine. "Hey, Char. Sorry, did I wake you?"

"No," Charlotte insisted, but there was something about her voice that made him think otherwise – it sounded groggy. Like she wasn't fully...there. "What's up?"

"Well," He continued, brushing it off as nothing. "I was wondering if you wanted to get lunch later – wherever you want." There was a long pause on her end, and it sounded like she'd covered up the receiver. He could faintly hear a faraway voice. "Charlotte? You still there?"

"What? Oh yeah, sorry." There was another pause and what sounded like someone else's laughter. "The people in the dorm next door are just being really loud…"

"So what do you think?"

"About what?"

"Lunch."

"Oh..." She trailed off. "Yeah, I don't think I can make it today. I have a um...history paper. 10,000 words."

"Oh," Drew sighed. "Well, okay. Call me when you're done?"

"Right. Yeah, sure. Okay, I gotta go. I'll see you later."

"Bye -" But just like that, he heard the telltale click that indicated she'd hung up on him.

Drew was caught off guard by her abrupt ending of their call. He placed the phone back in its cradle and took a look around the Ross & Associates office. So far today, it was dead – at the moment, Olivia was pretty much their only client. He'd already caught himself up on paperwork, and Nolan would probably be at the prison for a while.

He stood up and grabbed his coat. Maybe a surprise visit was exactly what his girlfriend needed…


They wouldn't let him see her.

Nolan paced around the prison entrance anxiously. Despite his pleas to the guards on duty, they had all told him that Olivia was not allowed to have visitors at the moment. They wouldn't even tell him if she was okay! He sighed audibly and took his face in his hands. He hated not knowing what was going on with her…

"Mr. Ross?"

He looked up when he heard his name called, wondering if the warden had come to speak to him like he'd demanded. Only it wasn't the warden – it was a corrections officer. Nolan actually recognized the man standing before him – it was the same guard who had been in the room when Olivia had admitted how she felt about him. He glared, remembering how the guard had ripped Olivia away from him mid-conversation. "I'm not leaving."

"I know," The guard said. "I'm the one who called you." Nolan looked at him surprisedly – him, of all people? "I felt bad for the other day. That woman's been through enough. She deserves to have someone around who actually cares about her…" He trailed off and looked both ways, to make sure no one was watching them. "Do you want me to take you to her?"

Nolan perked up. "You'd do that?"

The guard nodded. "It's the least I can do."

The officer took him through the guards' entrance at the back of the prison, where they got in no problem, and then around to the infirmary. After asking the nurse for a moment alone with the inmate, he gave Nolan the clear to enter once she was gone. Nolan stopped in his tracks when he entered.

Olivia was sitting on one of the cots, hunched over, her arms crossed over her chest. There were bruises all up and down her arms and cuts on her face. When she looked up and saw him she smiled, but it quickly turned to a wince – her lip was busted and it clearly hurt for her to do the simple action. "Nolan. You're here."

"Are you okay?" He breathed, rushing over to take her into his arms. She pressed her cheek up against his chest and grabbed onto him by his shirt, desperate for contact.

"I'll be fine," Olivia assured him. "It'll heal within a few days…"

"Olivia," He mumbled, and he held her at arm's length so he could look at her. She was trying to be strong but he could see it in her eyes - the pain, the fear. "You don't have to pretend to be okay when you're not. Not with me."

"I'm fine," She insisted, but her voice broke over the last word, like she might burst into tears at any moment. He touched her cheek and she finally let out a choked sob, unable to hold it together anymore. He wrapped his arms tightly around her, pulling her into him again.

"It's okay," Nolan whispered to her. "It's going to be okay…"

Olivia cried into his chest for a moment longer until it finally subsided. She looked up at him, her tears beginning to cease, and met his eyes. "I'm sorry," She blubbered. "I'm such a mess, and I've...I've caused so much damage..."

He wiped a tear away with his thumb. "You're not a mess. You're incredibly strong. Most people would've given up by now, but not you." Olivia smiled at him feebly.

"Yeah, well," She said. "It helps when you have something to fight for."

Nolan smiled. "Hailey?"

"Yeah. And you too."

For a moment he just looked at her, not knowing what he could do to make her feel better. Olivia only nodded in encouragement and slowly he leaned in, the distance closing between their lips when –

"I'm sorry." Both of them turned and spotted the corrections officer who had re-appeared in the open doorway. "But you need to leave now. We're about to have a shift change."

Nolan nodded reluctantly, then turned back to Olivia. "I have to go, but I'll come visit you soon, alright?"

Olivia shook her head. "Okay. I wish you could stay longer…"

Nolan touched her shoulder, before following the guard as he ushered him out. "This will all be over soon," He told Olivia. "I promise."


After Hailey's surprising confession, Spencer was at a loss. He only stared at her for a moment, Hailey looking at him like she might cry. After a few seconds he slowly lowered himself into a sitting position on the bed, the manila folder still clenched between his fingers. "Are you sure?" He asked tentatively. "I mean he's a…he's a…"

"Terrorist?" Hailey filled in. "Yeah, he is." She sat down next to Spencer but didn't look at him, staring at the ground.

"Hailey," Spencer said. "It's got to be a mistake…"

Hailey shook her head. "Check the folder."

Spencer looked back to the folder in his lap, and then hesitantly opened the cover. Inside he found Hailey's extensive research – highlighted photocopies from Olivia's diaries, maps with locations she'd circled, and copies of articles from the Internet. He spotted one that came from the website of what looked like a church. "Who's Michael Underwood?"

"My mother's ex-husband," Hailey informed him. "It's their wedding announcement. I asked Nolan to find everything he could about him, and that was one of the things he sent me. I thought Mike was my father, but it doesn't match. MU – not MH."

Spencer opened his mouth to respond, but a stack of printed out photos diverted his attention. He took a picture in his hand that particularly peaked his interest. It was of three men in button down shirts and ties – a balding, overweight man, a gray-haired older man, and then a young, skinny guy in the middle. He had more hair, his teeth were still white, and his rolled up sleeves showed no tattoos, but Spencer recognized him immediately – Maxwell Hanna.

"When I realized Mike Underwood wasn't my father, I did more research. That photo was from MassEcon's summer internship program in 1996 – they were an accounting firm in Cambridge." Hailey explained. "And guess who was an intern there that same summer?"

"Olivia," He finished. "But Hailey, that doesn't prove anything."

"Do you remember what Hanna said to us when we visited him in prison?" Hailey asked, not stopping. "He called me the terrorist's daughter, and I said I wasn't – but he just laughed." She bit her lip. "What if he wasn't talking about my mom but…himself?"

Spencer shook his head. "Hailey, stop. You'll just drive yourself crazy, making theories like this." But inside, his mind was spinning too – he thought about what Hanna had said on the stand in court. Do you really think I'd forget such a hot piece of ass? He resisted the urge to shudder and pushed the thought from his mind. He refused to believe that that horrible man could be related to a girl like Hailey.

"Just think about it Spencer," Hailey persisted. "My mother referred to my father in her journals as MH – the same initials as Maxwell Hanna. The two of them met before I was born. And we know my mother was chosen to be framed before Chamberlain had a relationship with her – if one of his colleagues was her spurned ex-lover and baby daddy, that's a pretty good reason to pick her to be your patsy isn't it?"

Spencer shut the folder and looked at Hailey. He touched her cheek and tilted her chin up, forcing her to meet his gaze. "This doesn't prove anything. Maybe Michael Underwood's middle name starts with H – you don't know for sure that Hanna is your dad, Hailey. For all you know, that accounting firm was so big your mom never even met him."

"I guess you're right…" Hailey said, but she seemed unconvinced.

"Look," Spencer said. "I promise I'll help you find your father, Hailey. But I have one condition – you can't keep drinking like this, okay? It's not who you are."

Hesitantly, Hailey nodded. "Okay." She said. "Okay, I promise."


Louise speared a piece of lettuce with her fork, while across from her Martha Barlow was mid-impassioned speech about her plans for her charity. Louise tried to listen, but her mind kept straying. She wanted so badly to tell this poor woman the truth – but the logical part of her brain knew the advice Amanda and Jack had given her had been right. As much as they wished they could tell Martha the truth, it would be too dangerous for themselves to do so. It wasn't like they could prove that Chamberlain had killed Lucas – and the last thing they needed was another one of their group to end up in jail for something they didn't do.

"Wow," Martha breathed, finishing her spiel. "I'm sorry, that was so much longer than I intended. So what do you think?"

Louise gave her a half-hearted smile. "You're passionate, darling. There's nothing wrong with that."

Martha nodded, and a wistful look crossed her face. "I…I miss Lucas every single day. And I can't help but wonder if there was something, anything I could've done…" She trailed off and shook her head. "I want to spare other mothers that same kind of pain. Every child should know how much they're loved."

The waiter dropped off the check and Martha reached for it, but Louise wasn't even paying attention by this point. Without thinking, she grabbed the other woman's hand, catching her off guard. The words came flying out of her mouth before she could stop them. "Lucas didn't kill himself."

Martha looked up at her, her eyes wide with surprise. "…What did you just say?"

Louise gulped. There would be no taking it back now. "Your son – he didn't…he didn't take his own life, Martha."

The older woman stared at her for a long moment with a shocked expression, clearly at a loss for words. "And how could you possibly know that?"

Louise opened her mouth, but nothing came out. "I…I…"

"Do you know something I don't?" Louise just stared at her, open-mouthed. What was she supposed to say to that? Martha stood up forcefully, gathering her purse and looking at Louise with a fierce expression. "I don't know what your endgame is here," She snapped. "But whatever it is, I'm done. Don't talk to me again, you understand?"

"Martha –" Louise began to say but the woman turned and walked away, storming off before Louise could say anything more.

What on Earth did she just do?


As Drew approached Charlotte's dorm room, he noticed that the door was slightly ajar. That was a little odd, but he assumed she'd just gotten absorbed in what she was doing and forgotten to close it. With a smile on his face he walked inside, but when he saw the sight before him he froze. "What the Hell?"

His girlfriend was sitting on the floor, in between two boys he'd never seen before. One of them had his head down, a rolled up dollar bill pressed to his nose as he snorted white powder off the tabletop. Charlotte looked up with wide eyes when she realized they weren't alone. "Drew," She breathed, and the guy on her other side quickly retracted his arm – Drew's stomach churned when he realized this guy had had his arm wrapped around his girlfriend. "What are you doing here?"

"I came to surprise you," Drew said, jaw clenched. "But it seems like I'm the one who got the surprise." He tried to keep his cool, but inside he was fuming. He was on a cliff, and all he needed was one breeze to push him over the edge.

The first guy placed down the dollar bill and stood up with a wicked smile on his face, before walking over to Drew with his hand extended. "Hey man, I'm Gavin. Wanna join in?"

That was all it took for Drew. He grabbed this guy by the collar of his shirt and pushed him up against the wall with all of his might, the guy's head whacking it with a thud. He could hear Charlotte scream. "You ever give her drugs again," Drew roared. "And I swear to God I will kill you! You understand?" The guy – Gavin – only smiled twistedly at him from his spot under Drew's grip.

"That's enough!" Drew found himself being shoved to the side and when he turned he saw Charlotte, glaring at him, eyes flashing. "God Drew, we're just having fun!"

"Having fun?" Drew thundered back at her. "Don't you realize how dangerous drugs are Charlotte? One day my mom took a bad line of coke and she never woke up! Do you really think I want that to happen to you, huh? How could you be so stupid?"

"Hey dude," The second guy interjected, standing up at this point. It was clear to Drew that he was also as high as a kite. "Just leave her alone! Mind your own damn business." Seeing red, Drew lunged for him, intending to punch this guy in his smug face, but Charlotte placed her hands on his chest and sent him careening backwards.

"Get out of here, Drew!" She screamed at him.

Drew shook his head. "I'm not leaving you here with them."

Charlotte let out a loud sigh. "Oh my God Drew, just leave me the Hell alone! I don't want you here, alright? It's over! Get out!"


Amanda reappeared from the beach house kitchen, spotting her husband and stepson getting situated on the living room floor among a sea of blankets. Carl perked up when he saw her, smiling widely. "Mommy, come on! We're gonna watch a movie!"

She shared a smile with Jack, before lifting up the blankets so she could sit down next to them. "Alright, what are we watching?"

"Finding Nemo," Jack told her, with a wry smile.

Amanda looked at Carl and playfully elbowed him. "Can't you recite the entire movie by now, huh?" The little boy laughed and she tickled his sides, sending him into an uncontrollable flurry of giggles.

Jack watched them for a moment in silence and waited for his son's laughter to subside before he wrapped an arm around his little back. "Are you okay, buddy?" He asked with concern. "After what happened this morning?"

Carl nodded. "Yeah." He wrinkled his nose. "But why did they want photos of us? We're boring." Both of his parents chuckled at this.

"Yeah, you're right." Jack agreed, grabbing the remote to turn on the movie. "We are."

As the opening scene of the movie became to play Amanda's attention remained focused on her two boys beside her. She watched as the TV screen cast a blue glow on their faces, Carl turning to his dad to exclaim that he wished they could live in the ocean too, causing Jack to laugh and shake his head before ruffling Carl's hair.

Sometimes she still really couldn't believe it – this was her family. The family she loved more than anything. The family she'd do anything to protect.


February 15, 2017 12:00 a.m.

Southampton, New York

From a young age we are taught skills of self-protection.

As the clock struck midnight Jack paced back and forth in the foyer, while Amanda sat at the bottom of the staircase, her arms crossed. "Maybe we should just tell him," Jack said, glancing at her over his shoulder as he continued to shift nervously. "Nolan will understand, right?"

"It's not easy to explain." Amanda responded. "What are we going to tell him?"

Jack shrugged. "I don't know – the truth?"

Amanda sighed, giving in. "Fine. But he's not going to be happy about it."

Things we need to know to keep ourselves safe.

As if on cue they spotted their friend, walking out of the living room and heading in their direction. "Hey, Nolan –" Jack started to say, while Amanda got to her feet, but the other man brushed right past them.

"Sorry," He said to them, and it was clear to the two that he was not in a good mood. "I just…have to get out of here." Before they could say anything else he opened the front door and stepped out into the cold, dark night, quickly disappearing from view and slamming the door behind him.

But people also have their own unorthodox ways of coping with the troubles around them.

Amanda and Jack stood there in silence for a moment, left staring at the empty space that their friend had occupied a moment before. "Well," Amanda deadpanned. "New plan?"

Jack took his face in his hands, clearly overwhelmed. "God, what do we do?"

"I guess…" His wife began uncertainly. "We…do it."

And they will go to great lengths to defend themselves…

Jack looked up at her, visibly conflicted. "What are we going to say? Nolan is our friend –"

"I don't want to hurt Nolan," Amanda interjected. "Of course I don't. But what I won't do is take a chance on our son's safety, Jack. I won't."

Realizing she was right, her husband nodded in silent agreement – as much as he wanted to be loyal to Nolan, Carl's wellbeing had to come first. "Yeah." He conceded. "Yeah, you're right…"

or those who matter most.

An uncomfortable silence settled between them, with no one saying anything at all. Their night had quickly taken a turn for the worst. It was clear to both of them that they were going to have to do something they did not want to do, and possibly hurt their best friend in the process...