Chapter 4 - Red Dots

Corin had just picked up Abbie from a shortened day of school. They were jetting to the store to grab a few groceries and then they would swoop by to visit Apollo before Corin dropped Abbie off to a birthday party. The first slumber party she'd ever given her permission for.

The lot wasn't full, which meant the detour wouldn't last long - she hated grocery shopping anyway. She'd much rather eat out, but Abbie was already well on her way to being very domestically oriented. She was always on her game when it came to making sure there was food in the house.

They were strolling the meat department, looking over the sales, when Abbie knew she couldn't wait any longer. She thought for a moment and then glanced up at Corin.

"Mom?"

"Yes, baby."

"I gotta go."

Corin's eyes strayed from the meat as she focused her attention on Abbie. "Can you hold it?"

Abbie didn't need to respond, Corin already knew the answer. Abbie was never demanding and she didn't ask for things frivolously. She wasn't perfect, needing guidance as any child would, but she had her strong points. Sometimes she seemed more like a small adult in a child's body. She wouldn't have asked if she could have waited until they got home.

"I know where it is." Abbie added, hoping Corin would just let her go on her own. That way the bathroom break wouldn't interfere with the shopping and they would be at the stables sooner. In truth, the time difference really didn't matter all that much.

Corin stared at the two large metal doors leading to the backside of the store. A creepy wide-open space with cold floors and stock boys inside of whom she didn't know. She wasn't letting Abbie go in there alone. "No, I'll go with you."

They left the cart by the door, Corin keeping her purse shoved under her arm, and pushed through the swinging double doors. Boxes were pooled on either side, stacked on top of each other and bound together with thick white chords. The room was oddly quiet, disturbingly so and absent from any movement. They were the only ones there.

Abbie sensed her mothers wariness through the hesitation she'd displayed as soon as the double doors closed. She shot a quick glance upwards. "It's this way remember?"

'Uh, yes." Corin stammered. "Of course I do."

They inched across the cold floor more hesitantly than Abbie had patience for. She wasn't completely surprised though, having understood early on that while she'd been afraid of the dark for a short time herself, Corin nursed fears of her own.

Abbie slipped her hand in Corin's, and then tugged a little as they moved forwards, until they reached the bathroom door. Abbie shot a look of disapproval at Corin when she seemed to want to follow her in. "You're not going in with me mom."

Corin laughed, hoping to cover the nervousness. "Uh, no. I'll wait for you here. "

She stood by the door as Abbie entered and closed it behind her. Now she was alone, here in this room, cold and uninviting, hearing nothing but the sound of her breath as it went in and out of her. That was until she'd detected another sound. A shuffle that her ears eventually deciphered as a footstep.

Her anxiety wasn't rational, but there it was. Her eyes were all over the room, flitting back and forth, scanning every inch, every corner, her heart speeding up to a fast thump in her chest. She became ultra aware of her surroundings in an instant, completely drawn into the adrenaline rush, pulsing through her veins.

A figure presented itself simultaneously with the click of the door opening. Her body jolted and she'd let out a short yip before she'd been able to stop herself.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to scare you ma'am."

She stared, a bit off kilter at the teen-aged boy. He was probably about sixteen, a bit of an acne problem but he would probably grow unto a strikingly handsome young man.

Abbie was peering at her from the doorway of the bathroom. "Mom? Are you okay?"

Corin shook the moment off with another feigned chortle, waving her hand a little towards the boy. "It's alright. I've probably seen too many horror movies or something."

"Yea, huh." He laughed. "I guess it is a little spooky back here."

They parted, Abbie and Corin returning to the shopping cart that was still waiting for them outside the door. Corin was happy to find it there, undisturbed. She was just as relieved to have emerged from the stockroom. She hated that place.

The line wasn't long at all, but they had purchased several things that would not keep in the car. They would need to drop the groceries off before they could advance to the stables.

In spite of the eagerness Abbie displayed by her twiddling thumbs and weight shifting in the seat, Corin drove the speed limit, eventually pulling into the yard. There were three bags. Corin took two and Abbie one.

She gave Abbie the house key and let her open the door, then they both went in. She let Abbie tote her bag across the living room to the kitchen set back in far left of the house, and then she prompted her to carry her backpack to her room while Corin started putting the groceries away. This was the last thing she said.

Jane and Lisbon were returning from interviewing a witness when they heard the call. It was Jane who recognized the address. He snatched his cell before Lisbon could figure out why and had Rigsby on the other end in about ten seconds. "Rigsby, get to Corins house now. Something has happened."

"What? What happened?"

"I don't know, but a call was put out for an ambulance to her address."

"What?! Damn!! Ah shit, hang on I got another call…"

Jane stopped for the light and then rounded the corner, making a u-turn and then aimed the car in Corin's direction. Wayne's voice returned. "Jane … It was Abbie on the phone. I don't know what happened, the EMS got there before I could find out."

'I'm on my way." Jane announced. It went without saying that Rigsby was on his.

It was hard to say who was there first, Jane or Rigsby. Both were already driving about, Jane with Lisbon and Rigsby with Cho when they'd received word. Regardless, both cars arrived, and all four were in the house before the EMS exited.

Rigsby caught one of them coming out of the door. 'Hey, hey wait. What's goin on here?"

The man stopped in the door, staring at Rigsby hard and challenging. "Who are you?"

Wayne squinted, growling under his breath. "Son of a Bitch." Then more directly at the man. "Who am I? I'm her brother, that's who I am. " He scowled fiercely, every muscle in his body tensing as he leaned in, making sure to stare directly into his eyes. "Now tell me what the hell happened to my sister!"

"Nothing." Corin's groggy, but irritated voice responded from inside. "I'm fine."

Wayne looked the EMS guy over, snorted and then passed him by, bumping his shoulder in an attempt to get him out of his way, and in an obvious display of superior testosterone.

"Rigsby." Lisbon snapped. "That's enough!"

Jane smiled at the guy. "His sister. You know how guys can get over sisters."

"Uhhuh." The guy responded, continuing his way off of the porch.

The house was nice, a little outdated, but nice. Smooth hardwood floors, spotted with several spatial rugs tossed about here and there. A warm looking, but unlit, fireplace was set in brick on the far back wall of the living room. The master bedroom appeared to be connected to the living room, off to the right, and the kitchen to the back left, along with a small corridor that obviously led somewhere.

Patrick scanned the house with his usual scrutiny, sensing his chance to gather info he wouldn't have otherwise been privy to and found that oddly enough, the place seemed a little like home. Corin was not a meticulous housekeeper, but that only made him feel more comfortable here.

She was arguing with the second EMS guy while lain out on a stretcher, her neck secured with a white brace. It was actually quite humorous to witness in a woman who kept herself so guarded. Jane smiled a little, careful not to do so too much, should Rigsby catch sight of him getting his jollies off of Corin's mishap, or whatever was the cause of this amusing drama.

"She fell." Abbie was standing off to the side, observing the medics and taking note of her uncle, and surveying the small crowd. Patrick eyed her, while Lisbon turned to nod off to Van Pelt who'd just joined the merry band.

Corin groaned, this was not the house warming party she'd ever had in mind - not that she'd considered one in the first place. It was nothing, a little bump on the head. Nothing that called for such theatrics. "I'm fine."

Wayne studied her and then looked up at the medic hovering over her. "What happened?"

"Can't say for certain. Daughter says she was putting up groceries, fainted and was out for a few minutes before she woke up again. She's got a nasty head injury that needs stitches and she may need a CT to rule out anything serious. With her being out for that long, at the least we need to make sure she doesn't have a concussion."

"I'm fine!" Corin groaned again, raising her voice persistently.

"Whatever." Wayne retorted. "I don't wanna hear it. You're goin to the hospital."

They were rolling her through, while she lay there, helplessly out of control of the situation, and it was eating her alive. She caught a glimpse of Grace standing by a short, smooth faced Asian male, laughed sarcastically and said. "You must be Cho."

"Ken." He answered with a funny look on his face. He threw a glance to Jane, who smiled as if to say .. I told you so.

The exchanged glances were cut short when Patrick felt a tug at his hand. "Patrick?"

Abbie was looking up at him quite seriously. He answered her, curious as to what the look was all about. "Yes?"

She tugged at him again, in an effort to get him to follow her. He cleared his throat, glanced around and saw that Wayne had tagged along behind the ambulance for the moment. Then he allowed her to lead him to the corridor and into a small, but bright room off to the left. This was her room.

A stream of memories flooded his brain when he stepped inside. The twin sized bed, draped in pink and green, bordered in prancing horses. The rich mahogany chest set at the foot, on top of a white bushy rug. The bookshelves were filled to capacity with a variety of topics, mainly dealing with animals. She'd lined her stuffed animals on the pillows, one of them - a grey and white Boston terrier - had a bandage wrapped around it's foot.

For a moment he'd heard a voice. A bright, soft voice and he turned his head without realizing it. He stopped his thoughts, knowing that he couldn't let them run away from him. He pushed down the memory, as he'd learned to do so well, and then squatted down to view the small vanity where Abbie kept her hairbrushes and other implements geared for primping. He did notice, however, the absence of dolls.

He turned around, studying the little girl. "I think you're going to make a wonderful veterinarian, Abbie."

"You think so?"

"I do." He assured.

She nodded, her face turning serious as she dropped her eyes a moment before raising them to his again. He didn't care much for the expression at all. A child should never have a reason to display a look such as this.

"Patrick," She murmured hesitantly. "I have to show you something."

Rigsby entered the room ten minutes later, only to perch himself in the doorway and wonder for a moment what conversation could have brought on such a seriousness between the two, Abbie and Patrick. He flicked his eyes between them, but then keeping in mind that his goal was to meet Corin at the hospital, he shrugged it off.

And so the three of them piled into a car, headed to the ER.

Wayne wasn't surprised at all to find that Corin hadn't made very nice with the doctors either. She never liked them, and that was putting it mildly. They poke and prod you like livestock and usually it's all for nothing. Doctors often blow smoke in order to convince people they know what they're talking about.

They were all there, Rigsby's coworkers, but it was Patrick who went with him into the room. It was something he couldn't stay away from, even if he'd wanted, at this point. He was putting it together, the mysteries of Corin's strange lifestyle. And the more he understood, the more he realized how much a part of it he really was, how much she was a part of his. Moreso than anyone suspected, aside from perhaps Corin herself.

She was sitting upright on the table, legs dangling over the edge, frowning at the doctor working on the stitches for her head. The wound didn't look so bad after it was cleaned. Corin perked up a bit when she saw Abbie, which was not much of a surprise to anyone.

"There we are." Dr. Reid declared, closing the last stitch and then moving back from the table.

"Well, is she okay?" Wayne urged.

"It's a nice bump, but she's right as rain."

Wayne wasn't completely persuaded, given by the way he was hovering and the unsubsided concern in his voice. "What about that CT thing? Does she need that?"

Dr Reid studied her, pulling the light pen from his top pocket bearing semblance to a Jedi wielding a light saber. He flashed it into her eyes. "How do you feel Corin?"

"I'm fine." She groaned a last time. "I've got a headache, that's all."

"And a headache would be normal after banging your head around though, right doctor?"

Dr Reid looked at Jane the same way everyone did upon first meeting him. A mix of humor and annoyance blended together in one glance. But he agreed nonetheless. "Yes, a headache is normal. Pupils are responding as they should. Corin, you're free to go home. If you'll excuse me, I'll have the nurse bring back a prescription for your headache if you'd like."

Jane watched the good doctor, thinking of how much he hated hospitals. They were cold and smelled of alcohol and menthol. The whiff of stink that often swept by could make you feel like vomiting. At least that's how he felt. And doctors often spoke as though they had all the answers, knew all the answers when, more often than not, they were just coming up with something to say so that they would look as if they knew what they were talking about. Aside from that, was all the poking and prodding really necessary?

It wasn't until Corin turned her head under his steady gaze that he decided to show that he'd noticed. He shuffled himself a little with a playful twinkle in his eyes. "Nice earrings."

Earrings? She'd not remembered what earrings she had on until she slid her hand up to her neck. The smooth, slick stone was cool under her fingertips. The necklace was too much for wearing on a normal day, but the earrings worked fairly well.

Abbie caught the compliment right away, stared at Corin determinedly and prompted. "Mom.."

Corin stifled the next groan, glancing at Abbie and then tilted her head down a little. Her own daughter betraying her - it wasn't right. Wayne turned his brows in, perplexity written on his face as one corner of Jane's mouth rose. He was enjoying watching her squirm. Jane turned his head sideways. "What?"

Her mouth twitched, as her eyes batted uncontrollably, she was probably turning a certain shade of pink as well. Abbie was clever, if anything. She managed to meet his eyes for a second. "I …" She bit her lip and then tried again. "Abbie said I should … Say thank you."

Hearing her say it amused him to a new level as he raised both eyebrows. He was enjoying it to an extreme until Abbie glanced up at him nudging him to finally release. "You're welcome."

Corin was eager to shrug the moment off, sliding from the table and feet meeting hard floor. Patrick, on the other hand, had hoped the moment could have lingered just a little longer so as to milk it for all the pleasure he could get from it.

Cho, Van Pelt and Lisbon were in the waiting room, something Corin had not expected. One would have thought that given her profession, talent and outspoken nature, she wouldn't mind attention. It was in fact opposite. She hated attention, especially like this. When she played piano, nothing existed but she and the instrument, regardless of who might be there. When she was teaching, she was engulfed in what she loved, unconcerned with whatever attention she attracted. Being fussed over, however, was not enjoyable in the least. It made her feel like she should do something, but she didn't know what.

Grace greeted her warmly, while Lisbon said hello and asked if she was feeling better, but ultimately kept her distance. Cho was not an outspoken man by any means, but it was clear that he understood things more often than he let on. There they all were, the seven of them, standing in a circle and they were all out of words. Grace raised an eyebrow, looking down at Abbie. "Don't you have a party to go to?"

Abbie had considered it a dead issue, thinking that her mothers trip to the ER, among other things, had canceled the party plans. She rolled her eyes upwards, gaging Corin's reaction.

"That's right, you do." Wayne echoed. "What time does it start?"

"Seven." Abbie admitted.

"You know." Corin interjected. "We can talk about this in the car."

Wayne knew the hidden meaning behind the words and wasn't pleased at all. He'd grown a little tired of the way Corin clung to the child. And maybe having Jane around gave him some determination to say things he wouldn't normally say. "Do you have a problem with her going?"

"Well I…" She'd been nervous about it all along, but circumstances had changed and she was wary now of releasing her daughter to strangers. She hated having this drawn out while encircled with spectators.

"Well, I don't see what the problem is." He continued, obviously getting more annoyed by the minute. "The doctor said you're fine, Abbie's fine. It's a kids party for crying out loud Corin, not a frat house."

Patrick was duly impressed with the way Rigsby had snuffed out his sister. There was something suspicious beneath the reluctance, and Wayne was right. It needed to be confronted.

Five pairs of eyeballs were observing the squabble, three of which were becoming more than a little uncomfortable. Abbie was hopeful, Patrick was taking the whole thing in, gathering data and filtering it through his analytical brain. Corin was getting all the more nervous and a bit disturbed by the whole thing. Head lightly throbbing, she eventually gave in. If she didn't, she would have to have a better explanation being that Wayne wasn't taking any of the usual ones. The easier route was to let him have his way, and then he wouldn't ask anymore questions.

Abbie was elated. They picked up the present for her school mate from the house before they dropped her off at the party, and then they drove back to Corins house, to drop her home.

Much to her disliking, they followed her in. She didn't have the strength to resist, so she let them do as they pleased.

"You hungry?" Wayne asked. "I can go pick you up something."

"Oh, no .. no." She objected. "I just bought …"

Her mouth dropped open as she made a dash to the kitchen, Wayne on her heels and Jane catching up after observing the flat white box spread out on the living room table, his note on the side.

He came into the kitchen observing Corin frantically scanning the chaos that was crushed eggs, jars of splattered condiments and otherwise ruined groceries. Jane stepped up a few inches. "What are you looking for?"

It was a fluff question, of course. One only meant to register her response, he already knew the answer.

She blinked, holding her head down for a minute before turning it up at him. She was visibly thrown by the question, and tried to settle herself. 'Nothing. I just wanted to see if anything could be salvaged."

"I think so." Wayne confirmed. "Why don't you go relax and we'll take care of this, yeah?"

The suggestion didn't sit well with her at all. She grew a bit more agitated, rolling her eyes around and rocking a little bit. "It's okay really, I can handle it."

I can clean up my own mess. Jane heard it in his mind, although she didn't use those same words this time.

She was in a panick, struggling with all her self-discipline to hide it, but Wayne wasn't having it. He wrenched his head around rather abruptly and ordered her to the living room. He'd bring her a sandwich and something to drink and then she would relax while the boys cleaned up the mess in the kitchen. She flashed a worried glance to the floor, and then obeyed, Jane mentally giving Wayne double gold stars for his assertiveness.

Wayne brought her a club sandwich. It wasn't fancy, just a few different types of meat layered between three slices of bread secured with a couple of toothpicks. Accompanying the sandwich was a cool glass of milk. Then he went back to the work in the kitchen.

She managed to get down half of the sandwich and drank some of the milk. She was staring out across the room when Jane and Rigsby returned. They both stopped and watched her. She'd taken the two toothpicks and was idly making one bounce off the other. Jane didn't try to hide his amusement this time. "I see you've learned my trick."

"What?" She answered, and then looked down. "Oh. Well, I know my fair amount of bar tricks. I didn't need anyone to teach me that one."

"Oh." He let his head make a quick drop while smiling tightly, and then bob back up again.

Jane was content to let Rigsby visit with his sister until he was satisfied that she would be okay. She was relieved when they left.

She watched them pull off and then she scrambled to the kitchen. Where was it? She looked everywhere she could think of until she'd worn herself out, and then she paced the floor worried about whose hands it might be in. Why did it seem to be going so wrong when she'd managed to keep it together for so long? It was starting to unravel and she couldn't stop it anymore.

She tried to go to bed. She rolled and rolled and when she couldn't find any rest, she turned the sound machine on, hoping the mimicked sound of waves crashing on the shore

would lull her, but she was awake just the same.

Finally, when the anxiousness and the fretting over how Abbie was doing had gotten the best of her, she hopped in the car and started driving, ultimately arriving at the place she always ended up when she felt overwhelmed, depressed or afraid. The ocean.

It was a moonless night, but the stars were spread out in a powder of twinkles reminiscent of a million lightening bugs flickering overhead. She heard the sea before she saw it.

The beautiful, full roar of the ocean, pushing itself over the shores in an astounding display of strength and power. It was something she could never grow tired of.

She reached it in a matter of minutes, feeling a temporary release of the worry in her mind. She walked along the shoreline until she finally just stood there, the foam bubbling over her sandaled feet, and let the breeze catch her hair.

Patrick knew he wouldn't catch her by surprise, she was fairly aware of her surroundings and from the encounter with her in the piano room, he'd known that she didn't let people sneak up on her if she could help it. He watched her for a minute or two, and then he spoke. "So, here you are."

She simply sighed with a hint of a smile as she turned to him. "You were looking for me? "

"As a matter of fact, I was. Yes."

"Oh." She said rather aloofly and then she rolled her eyes around in a distracted sort of way before raising them again and asking. "Did you follow me? "

"Nope."

"Then how did you know where I'd be?"

He watched her with an unwavering searching gaze, taking in her demeanor and perceived the growingly not so subtle change. The female before him was not the same defensive, guarded woman he'd grown accustomed to. This one was pensive and deeply restless, cracking under the pressure of a profound disturbance that had rooted itself securely inside of her, well beneath the surface. One that he'd been trying to make sense of since he'd first met her.

He'd first noticed the shift take form on the day she'd broken the glass bottle at the school. In many ways, the shattered glass was symbolic of the crack in her own glass bottle. This was the defensive barrier she fought so hard to keep erected between herself and everyone else. The one of which she'd carefully hidden her own secrets inside.

He smiled, with a marked knowing, while taking a couple of steps closer. "It was easy. You love the ocean."

She gave a faint chuckle. "Yes, obviously."

He didn't leave it there. "Rivers and lakes have boundaries, they're still confined, restricted. But the ocean is open and unrestrained. Too deep to reach bottom, it appears to have no precincts at all. So the ocean makes you feel safe. "

She was quiet, much more contemplative than he'd seen her before and equally as slow to fire a snappy remark back at him. She stared over the water, nodding until he added. "You have a sound machine in your bedroom, set to the ocean because it restores that feeling you get when you're here experiencing it in person. Makes you sleep easier."

The was a moment of confirmation in her eyes, and in the way she drew a breath when he'd said the ocean made her feel safe. A moment when she was completely open. But it was briefer than he had time to take advantage of. She blinked a wide-eyed frightened glance at him. She was fighting with herself, desperately trying to sustain that same guarded expression that kept her from the moment of honesty she so needed, struggling to hold him at bay with her defensive manner.

She countered him, but it failed to deliver the objection with the usual bite. This time it sounded more like a plea than a rebuttal. "Do you ever not analyze people, Jane? Or is it something that you can't turn off like breathing or … Hunger? Even so, has it ever occurred to you that even if it's true, for the sake of others, it might be better to not say anything at all and keep what you know to yourself? That maybe digging deeper might cause more harm than good?"

The corners of his mouth turned up subtly - she'd dropped the mister. He was careful not to bring it to her attention. "If you think I say everything that comes across my mind, then you're sadly mistaken. But what I do say, I do so because people don't usually offer the truth willingly. They hide behind facades and false pretenses, and will use those as a crutch before they'll ever reveal who they truly are underneath."

"Is that what you think of me?"

This question was more than he'd expected. He hesitated, choosing his words methodically, and then moved even closer until he could touch her if he wanted. "I think, Corin, that you're in trouble. You desperately want to escape, but you don't know how. And you won't ask for help, because you're afraid of the consequences."

Her breathing changed as she stared, once more at the dark rolling water rising and then crashing on the shore in unity with the rise and fall of his voice. "You've been running so long, that you're unable to determine when it's okay to stop. When your safe."

"You're safe." He whispered in a softness that delicately touched the vulnerable place in her. So deeply that she could hardly bear it. And then it happened. He'd been inching closer to her, talking to her in that assuring tone, gentle and convincing. She was searching for the will to stay strong against his skillful, delicately maneuvered assault on the fear that controlled her, unaware that he had something in mind.

His fingers wrapped around the purse and he'd secured it firmly in his hands before she realized he'd ever touched it. She snapped out of her daze, yanking herself around with a look of horror lining her smooth, porcelain features. Their eyes linked together as if they were in a staring contest, as he suspended the purse upright between both hands, just under his face. "Anything you need to know about a woman can be easily discovered by the mere contents of her purse. Did you know that?"

She was choking back emotion in an effort to stop him from doing what he was implying he would do. Her breathing was labored now, the sense of fear fully peaked in silver eyes that flicked back and forth across his face. Her shoulders sloped a little and she was starting to wrench her hands - something he'd not seen before.

She was completely undone.

This is why he'd frightened her so much from that first day. She'd been able to hide under the radar, able to exist as she had for ten years without anyone ever knowing the truth.

Without anyone ever being aware of the part of her that lived secluded and alienated from everyone else. A necessary sacrifice on her part - so it seemed. But this man was paying attention. He'd seen the things everyone else missed, and that was dangerous. She closed her mouth, drew in one long, solid breath and then steadied her eyes into his.

"I know what you can do. You'll wear me down until I tell you what you want to know and I won't be able to stop you. But before you do … Before you open that door, I'm begging you please. You don't …You don't know what you're asking. Everything I do, every decision I make …. It's for Abbie. Do you understand me?"

"Do you hear me?"

He was listening to her, taking in her words as well as her body language, tone, but most importantly, everything her eyes were saying that she, herself, had not found the strength to. Time was suspended, him standing there eying her attentively, she, broken and on the verge of sobbing in front of him. He maintained his position, answering calmly after several torturing minutes. "I do."

Her eyes were welling, on the verge of spilling over. "Please, don't do this. Please, don't force me."

He dropped one hand, eying her and then let out a breath. "I could never and I would never force you to do anything, Corin."

And then he offered her the purse.

The effect was reminiscent of a child receiving his or her security blanket. She hugged it under her arm, blinking dripping eyelashes and splashing moisture across her cheeks in the process.

"Thank you." It was raspy, and spoken weakly as if she'd been completely drained. Without another word, she slipped forwards and past him.

He pivoted around, aiming another verbal arrow at the seemingly invisible enemy holding her prisoner inside of herself. "Do you know why secrets are so important to the bad guy Corin? There's no repercussion for him as long as he's got you under his thumb. You suffer, while he keeps on doing whatever he does. It's all smokescreen, a parlor trick. He distracts with intimidation and threats when it's he, himself, who is afraid of being caught. It's hardly fair, and more than that … It's the biggest deception anyone could ever pull off. You're smarter than that."

She had stopped, for a moment, with her back still to him. She'd closed her eyes, clinging to the purse while her heart thumped rapidly inside her chest. And when she'd steadied herself again, she resumed her pace until she'd reached the car.

Her reflection in the window had always been distorted, that's the way it is with curved glass. But tonight, she caught a glimpse of herself in it and couldn't help but feel a twinge of helplessness, wondering if the reflection, this time, might be more accurate than not.

She fixed the key into the lock, opened the door and slid into the seat. She stared out into the open space, started the engine, and then she had left the beach.

A/N - Hey guys, remember when I said this was gonna get darker? Well, hold on, it's here.

Gosh, let's see … I'm never quite sure what to do with anonymous reviews. While I'm flattered that you stopped to review, I'm thinking if you don't like original characters positioned so strongly in a fan fiction Anna, then I guess this fic just isn't for you. Thanks for reviewing though.

Masquerade, yup, a horse! Gotta love it and thank you so much for sticking with the story this far!

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Oh, and for those who love long chapters, well, this one broke 5k words! Ha!

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