A/N: Got to editing tonight. Hope you're enjoying, I know the chapters are short but I wanted to do a short story this time. I'll post the last chapter soon :)

4

Four years ago, a man named John Wakefield murdered six people on Harper's Island. Abby was young, just finishing high school, when she found her mother hanging from a tree in the woods along with two other women near her home. Her father was the sheriff at the time and as far as Abby knew he still was. She didn't talk to him much after the incident, if they did they were arguing, and after he sent her away to live with her grandmother in California, they stopped speaking altogether. She hadn't seen or heard from him since and watching that news report at Trish's dorm brought back terrible memories she wanted absolutely nothing to do with.

Taylor arrived soon after leaving a friend's house to find Houston hanging from the ceiling fan. Hanging. Why did he have to be hanging? Abby felt sick to her stomach. She developed a natural hatred for the news sometime after being attacked by hungry journalists that milked her mother's death for all it was worth. It took about a year for people to finally leave her alone, and after she got her own apartment away from her grandparents, they seemed to lose interest.

Abby was waiting on a bench at the park where she asked Trish to meet her almost an hour ago. Beth had given her Trish's phone number before she left, but all she got was her voicemail. With a little bit of luck, she would get her message wherever she was, but at this point, Abby just wanted to regroup with the guys and find a way to distract herself from Navy Houston.

She could deal with Trish not showing up…

"Hey." Abby looked over her shoulder to find Patricia Wellington approaching in a light green sundress after enduring about a half hour of unhopeful waiting. She didn't think she would come. It was kind of a shock seeing her there.

Her hair was straight, much different than her usual lively brown curls, and her eyes were not as bright as she remembered them being. Looked like Henry wasn't the only one roaming around miserable but that wasn't his fault. Hunter Jennings didn't put a gun to her head and force her to sleep with him.

Abby nodded at her without a word.

"I got your message," Trish told her. "I'm glad you're here. In Pullman, I mean. Henry needs you." Abby blinked a few times, sensing the downhearted honesty in her voice. Trish shrugged and crossed her arms. "He won't talk to me," she said. "Maybe he'll talk to you." Abby could see how much she was hurting. At least she was genuinely apologetic if that made anything the slightest bit okay.

"He has," she said. "Sort of." She was cautious not to say anything that would draw a line between them. She was trying her best to keep one foot on each side. "You really hurt him, Trish. I think we can both agree he didn't deserve that."

She simply nodded. "No. He didn't. I know that what I did was wrong… but I think I realized that too late." Her voice grew quiet. "I really suck, huh?" Abby exhaled heavily, stuffing her hands down in her pockets.

"Yeah. Trish. You kinda do," she said earnestly. "I had someone once. Back home. His name was Jimmy." Wind blew past in a rush and played with Trish's loose hair. Abby's ponytail swayed, an icy entity wandering between them.

Trish listened intently. "What happened?" Abby lowered her eyes momentarily to keep her drifting mind on track. She didn't want to talk about this, but it seemed to be the only way she could make this conversation mean something to her.

"My mom happened," she said. Henry explained to Trish once about the murders on Harper's Island when they got into talking about how Abby ended up in L.A.. He had been there with her all of those years ago. Sympathetic, Trish looked down. "After she was killed and my dad sent me away, I left without saying goodbye. I think about him sometimes and what might have been if I'd never left. I don't want to think about how bad he must have felt. With no closure. No reason. Nothing."

Tears welled in Trish's eyes, and Abby could see she was thinking of Henry.

"So you know just," she quickly went on. "-if you really do love Henry don't not try to make things right with him. You'll regret it later." Trish was still. "That's all I came here to say. I hope you guys can work it out."

Abby turned to leave but Trish stopped her. "You know why we didn't get caught?" She stood with her back turned to her, unmoving. No, she didn't know and she didn't think she wanted to, but she waited and she listened. "My R.A. caught Hunter sneaking in one night past curfew." Abby slowly turned back to face her. "She threatened to tell the dean but Hunter paid her off every night he snuck in. And Beth… she was always at her boyfriend's place so she didn't know most of the time. God… I feel so terrible. I can't imagine what people must think of me."

Abby raised her chin, thoughtful. "What do you think of you?" She asked. Trish snorted just as a tear fell from her eye. Her eyeliner was slightly smeared.

"I think I'm a bitch who doesn't deserve someone as good as Henry. What do you think?" She inquired. Abby didn't want to be too brutally honest but she was honest. Partly because she wanted to get the negativity off of her chest and partly because Trish needed to hear it.

"I think you're right about one thing," she half-smiled. "You're a bitch." Trish released all of the air in her lungs and smiled only for a second. She sniffled right after, wiping the corners of her eyes and careful not to completely destroy her makeup. "But…" However reluctant, she continued. "I have to disagree with the second part. You deserve much better than casual affairs with a guy you hardly know. You deserve Henry, and Henry deserves you. You need to remind him of that before he completely forgets."

She turned and with that, she left.