The door closed quietly behind Ann at nobody's bidding. Moving her legs was difficult still, they felt like long and uncharacteristically wide blocks of cement that had been set to the ground beneath them. Yet, she managed to make it to the chair that had been set out for her. The room was sterile and bright, but not without its dark corners, the darkest of which Ann was currently peering into. The woman in the bed beside her chair was so fragile. Stitches crawled down her arms as though a corset maker had been distracted and used the skin instead. Shivering, Ann stared at the unknown woman wondering if she could feel the cold too. "Time has been very kind to that face, darlin'." Blinking rapidly, Ann paused to consider if the man on the opposite side of the bed was referring to her own face or that of the woman's in the bed. The woman was ravaged with blood and poorly sewn stitches that looked like a small child was responsible for them. Turning to face him, Ann realized he did indeed mean the woman in the bed.

"Ann, just what does Bobby think he's doing? Can you tell me that?"

Ann looked up in confusion. She had been raised to be polite to everyone, but this setting was out of her comfort zone.

"Bobby's getting weak, Ann. You can see it, John Ross can see it. Hell, almost everyone can see it apart from that ex husband of yours."

At the mention of Harris, Ann straightened up like a soldier to attention, but the smirk she was met with told her she had given the reaction that was hoped for.

"You know he's not the problem. He's not dangerous really. It's his mama that wears the pants and always has….but you never told Bobby that, did you? You never mentioned how much of a sniveling child your ex-husband is."

Refusing to show her fear, Ann gripped her lower lip between both rows of teeth and clenched. For the first time in her life, green was truly not Ann's colour as she glared at the woman in the bed wishing she was in her place, unable to hear this.

"You needn't worry, darlin'. Things will work out right in the end."

Ann scoffed loudly. "Yeah. Right. And what would you know about right?"

"Plenty. When you spend your lifetime doing dirty deeds, you're usually the first to notice the good ones."

Interlacing her fingers, Ann pressed her fingertips into her knuckles.

"What did you really think you were achieving by not telling Bobby about Emma and John Ross?"

"I was…..ashamed"

"You told Ryland."

In a rush, the words flooded out. "I told Harris because I knew he would deal with…..John Ross….thoroughly"

Ann broke down as she felt tears squeeze past her determination not to get upset. Her tear ducts filled up and released as she caved under the pressure and exhaustion.

"You can tell yourself that, if it gives you strength, honey. Some opportunities are so rare that one has to seize them then and there."

Slowly, she lifted her head and glared at the man. "What opportunities?" she grimaced angrily.

A casual laugh. The throaty sort that would irritate the already bereaved. "Deep down, darlin' we all know if people like us for who we truly are. You're the only one of Bobby's wives I could stand and the only one I actually liked. Bobby loves the woman he thinks you are, but he was always a fool. He thought he could save you. And by God, you let him try, didn't you?"

Shocked by the accusation, Ann failed to keep her voice level "He did save me! I was broken when I met Bobby. I may have kept things from him and it was wrong of me, but it was an unusual situation, I-"

"No one can save you, but yourself, Ann."

Staring past her interrogator, Ann realized she had been winded. Vividly, she recalled that hot day at the Texas State Fair. The psychological battering she had taken the night before from Judith and Harris had eaten away at her brain, alongside the pills she had taken to conquer the feeling. Emma had wailed and wailed. Scared of her role as a mother and terrified of the precious life in front of her and all it required from her, Ann had turned away. Only for a moment.

"All it takes is a split second, darlin'. Surely you know this by now."

That smirk was killing her. Years ago, before Emma was even a twinkle in her father's eye, Ann had spotted Harris' mother smirking at her just as she was being smirked at now.

"So, you thought you could change your hair? Why would you want to do that, Annie?"

"I thought you'd-"

"You thought you could get attention from other men. Is that what it was, Annie?"

"No, I-"

"You what?"

"It was just some highlights, Har-"

Enter Judith. Even with her side business, Judith was always able to keep going. Fear keeps a wolf rejuvenated and the prey down. "Of course she knew exactly what she was doing, Harris. That woman has only ever invited chaos into our lives from the moment you brought her here."

"Chaos? I put a colour in my h-"

"Chaos."

The memory was interrupted by the man seated opposite her.

"That night was detrimental to your wellbeing, wasn't it? You knew you'd lost Harris to his mother."

Ann started to shake her head slowly, no. Then, as her restraint gave way and she crumbled forwards in tears against the hospital bed, she cried out "YES!" Wailing. Just as Emma had wailed at her the next morning. There seemed no end to the tears, as if her eyes had never known what it was like to shed wet, salty badges of courage and perseverance.

Momentarily forgetting her earlier state, Ann went to stand up and immediately slid back down in defeat. The face looking at her now was clearer, old and wise beyond the years of the man inside it.

"Where is Bobby?" she demanded.

"Resting. He'll stay that way as long as you're figuring this out. Longer if necessary."

"Figuring what out? I-I need to see him."

"Who?"

"Bobby!"

That smirk again. "You'll see him. In time."

"What does that mean? I want to see him NOW!" she roared with a force that came from within.

"What was it about that child, Harris Ryland that you couldn't put two and two together when he told you he 'found' your daughter? How did you not know he was behind it?"

Muddled with thoughts about Bobby and Emma, Ann blurted out "He was just as devastated as I was….I thought. Not even he…could…" again she broke down.

"What did that snake ever have anyway? I can understand a nitwit falling for his lines of blabber, but not a pretty, intelligent woman like you. Was it really his money?"

"NO!" Ann screamed at him. "I loved him with everything I had and he loved me, I know he did…I…" She clung to the end of the bed panting and retching at the sudden heat in the room.

"Of course he did."

There was no sarcasm or insincerity in the tone. Ann looked up.

"He still does. The question is, do you love him?"

Ann stared in disbelief. How was that the question, she thought. "I love Bobby" she stated firmly.

"Ah, yes. So do a lot of people. Granted, not everyone loves him enough to put up with him for 7 years, but maybe you're starting to get that famous itch now."

Ann's eyes bulged in their sockets as she lunged towards the laughing figure before her. Grabbing his lapels, her eyes blazing with a murderous stare, she ground her teeth whilst uttering "I love my husband, he's a wonderful man."

"Who earlier today told you to get your daughter out of his house?"

Ann trembled angrily, but said nothing.

"It's very out of character for him to get like that, I'm sure you noticed" the voice continued. Ann's eyes bore into the creature in her midst.

"Have you ever angered anyone else like that? That kind of hurt, deep seated pain?"

"You have someone in mind, I suppose" she spat angrily. Unprepared for the question, she turned away and scrunched her eyes closed.

"You have any idea the damage you did to your first husband by leaving him the way you did?"

Strangled with emotion and shock, Ann collected herself enough to ask the first thing that came to mind.

"What's it to you? How would you…?"

"Oh, darlin'. Bobby's weakness of mind must be rubbing off on you. Your marriage is marred by secrets that Bobby still doesn't have a clue about. Secrets you don't even know yet."

Ann's face contorted in agony and surprise at this as she spun around. "What secrets?"

The undeniable, instantly recognizable laugh that followed almost comforted her.

"What secrets?"

"Oh, you'll learn. In time. Have you ever asked yourself why Harris Ryland would be possessed enough to take your daughter? Has it honestly never occurred to you that he couldn't have done that without help?"

"He had help, his mother was right there with him! She admitted it to my face. Proudly!" Ann exclaimed, angry at having potentially new information dangled in front of her, only for it to be whipped away in an instant.

"Mother Ryland is not a drug anyone in their right mind would want to take, Ann. You know that."

Inexplicable confusion filled Ann's head and it was reflected on her face.

"Did Harris always drink when he was with you, Ann?"

Ann turned as sharply as was possible in her present state. "N-no. Only on special occasions, if we went out, or Christmas, or birthdays. He never really….liked it….what does that have to do with…."

"What did he offer you tonight when you came to his house, the home you used to share?"

Ann blinked, unsure of whether she wanted to say what they evidently both knew.

"A…..a drink" she muttered meekly.

"And Emma takes those pills for panic attacks, isn't that right?"

Ann felt her legs liquidize beneath her and not in a good way. "Harris would never jeopardise Emma that way. In his own way he does love her, I won't let anybody say any different, he…." She trailed off, realizing she had jumped ahead.

"Did Ryland ever….self-medicate the way Emma does? To your knowledge?"

"What? No, she must have gotten that…..from…..me…." Paralysed with terror at knowledge she didn't possess, Ann faltered.

"So, you think Emma inherited your fondness for anti-depressants and alcohol? The fondness you developed….as an adult?"

Silence. Ann looked up, unsure if she wanted to hear any more. It felt to her like the walls were sweating, condensation forming on the ceiling. Placing a hand to her forehead, she felt her own body temperature soaring.

"She went through what I went through, but for much longer. The taunting, the constant sense that she would never be good enough….that I was never good enough…to be his wife…his partner in anything…a mother, a woman. I wasn't good enough. Harris and his mother fed her all those stories about me. That's partly why she hated me so much. She had no…..no….freedom. The pills and the drinking are a confused, jumbled way of trying to cope. To keep your head above water. I know that much. I've been there."

"So has your ex-husband."