A/N:

Well hello again everyone! *Dodges tomato*

It has been a little while but i have had a roller coaster of a semester and i'm so glad it's over. Taking an extra paper was not a good idea and studying while recovering from surgery was also an exercise in masochism. But here you go, it's just a little chapter but i will be updating more regularly now that i'm free from Uni. I will admit that taking a break had left me a little unsure of where things are going due to my bad habit of writing my thoughts down on paper and then forgetting where i left them, so if the next few chapters are on the short side then it will be because i'm taking some time to tie plot threads together before i actually post them.

As always, i appreciate you reading and really appreciate any feedback or critiquing that you may give, i'm trying to develop my writing skills to do justice to some personal ideas for stories i have so any advice is greatly appreciated :)


Her lungs were on fire. Chloe was sure of it, what else could possibly explain the burning pain in her chest or the raw sensation at the back of her throat? Not for the first time she cursed her addiction to cigarettes although she would give the one finger salute to anyone who dared tell her to quit, but still, she had to admit that they had a negative impact on her ability to do anything physical for any length of time and her current sprint down the dark shrouded beach definitely counted as physical activity… and boy was her body hating her for it.

But despite her body's imminent collapse she noticed that however bad a time she was having, Max was having a worse one. Her friend stumbled along beside her, barely keeping pace with Chloe's longer strides, her wheezing breaths and heavy, plodding footsteps were a sure sign that Chloe was not the only who was about to keel over…she was just the one without a good excuse.

Thankfully, the faint glint of starlight reflecting off a particularly beat up truck saved Chloe from the prospect of carrying her friend and she felt a fresh burst of energy push her up the dunes towards her 'baby'. Seconds passed as her shaking hands refused to co-operate with her attempts to unlock her car, her struggle as if by design, gave Max enough time to stagger to the truck and collapse into the passenger side a mere moment after the doors unlocked.

In short order the engine surged to life and the interior was bathed in dull giving her the first proper look at Max since the boat.

She did not look good at all.

Blood spattered almost every visible part of her face yet underneath it all Chloe could see her skin was abnormally pale. She almost flinched as Max's weary eyes rose to meet her own, one eye was so red it seem to be bleeding from inside, the other possessed a glazed quality which indicated that she was struggling to remain conscious, neither eye alarmed her as much as the blood slowly running from her friend's nose and ears.

"Holy fucking shit Max, we need to get you to the hospital."

Max's face clouded over with a scowl at the statement, the emotion at least seemed to make her more alert as she responded. "No. No hospital, what do you think is going to happen if I turn up there like this? Even the most galactically stupid nurse is going to put two and two together once word gets out."

The logic was sound but logical thinking was far down the list of Chloe's priorities. "Are you fucking serious? You're hella bleeding from everywhere Max, you need help!"

"It's not all mine." Max said almost petulantly as she glanced down to her own red stained arms.

"I know it's not all yours! I saw it, I was there!" Chloe near shouted before forcefully reigning herself in. "There's no way we can smuggle you into your dorm or my room like that, where else could we even go?"

"I have a place."

"You…have a place?" Chloe repeated slowly. "Of course you do. Where exactly is this 'place'"

"Do you remember the old Blockbuster? Just follow Jackson avenue up once you get there." Max replied wearily as she leaned against her window.

Chloe nodded as she reversed out far quicker than was safe before her eyes narrowed. "That whole area is just warehouses and storage sheds now."

"I know." Came a tired reply. "Just trust me okay?"

There was no way in hell that would be the end of her questions, now that they weren't fleeing for their lives down the beach her mind was relentlessly going over what happened on the boat or more accurately, trying to make sense of what she had seen. She wasn't having much success. The more she thought about it, the less sense everything seemed to make, one minute she was on her knees staring down the barrel of a gun, sick with the realisation that she was going to die, the next minute she was half lying on the deck as Max…moved…there was no term that fully described the way her friend tore into those men with animalistic rage. She didn't just kill them, she destroyed them. Chloe didn't know what to think of that, her mind was caught in a loop trying to process it all. She had the sneaking suspicion that when it finally did catch up to her, it would hit her like a wrecking ball.

She snuck another peek at her friend as she drove, Max's eyes were closed as she seemed to doze against her window, Chloe had to grimace as she saw the red smudges on the window briefly illuminated by the passing street lights, the whole passenger side was going to be a mess, she could only hope that it didn't soak through her seat covers, the last thing she needed was David noticing blood stains on her seats.

"Max?" She eventually began. "You there?"

"Hrrm?" Came a tired grunt in reply.

"You gotta explain to me what happened there, it's starting to make my head hurt."

"Next left."

"Huh?" Chloe questioned.

"Take the next left here, Unit 13 near the end."

"Okay…that's not an answer though."

Max was silent as the seconds passed. "It's…complicated. Can I try explaining it when I'm not bleeding out?"

Chloe was struck with a moment of guilt and she nodded in agreement, as fucked up as everything was, she was only alive because of Max. It was less than a minute later that she pulled up in front of a small factory unit sporting a faded "13" painted on the roller door. She turned and grabbed Max by the arm before she could leave the truck.

"Max, i-" She began before realizing she had not idea how to phrase her thoughts. "I don't want to seem like an ungrateful bitch so…Thanks? I would have been hella dead if it wasn't for you."

Strangely, a painful grimace passed over Max's face as Chloe finished speaking. She didn't have time to ask why before the brunette left the truck to punch in the code for the door.

"You don't have to thank me, you're one of the only things I have left in the world." She said before she shuffled inside leaving Chloe floundering in the dark.

She was nearly blinded as she stepped inside, and it was an uncomfortable wait until her eyes adjusted to the light. The first thing she noticed was the slightly beat up minivan taking up the lions share of space leaving her slightly confused as to why Max had two cars in a town where she didn't really even need one. The rest of the space was occupied by various bits of paraphernalia, canned food lined some shelves, a few boxes and plastic cases were stacked against walls and a couple of large plastic bags leaned against the van. She snorted to herself, she had half expected an armoury and a tank.

She found max sitting in a folding chair in front of the van and almost yelped in surprise, her friend was stripped nude from the waist up, her blood-soaked clothes already tucked into a garbage bag. The brunette peered at her reflection in the mirror before her as she dabbed at the wound that stretched from just above her left armpit to the centre of her chest, the girl hissed each time her brown soaked gauze touched the cut. Chloe had to force herself not to stare, cursing hormones all the while.

"You uh…don't need any help, right?" She asked hesitantly.

Max let out a soft chuckle. "No, I'm alright. I won't inflict this job on you."

Max was probably misunderstanding the reason for her hesitancy, but Chloe wasn't about to correct her. Better to be thought squeamish than a perv.

"Sooo… what's with the van?" She asked after a few more seconds of watching her friend dab at her chest.

"Emergency escape plan one." Came the flat reply.

"Emergency…One?" Chloe asked incredulously.

Max nodded as she set aside her swab and picked up a long, curved needle. "One of four. Well, five if you count running like hell into the forest as an actual plan."

"You have five escape plans?"

"Yep. No plan survives first contact, best way to get around that is to have plan b's, c's and so on." Max continued as she cleaned the needle in what smelled like alcohol.

"But why here in arcadia?"

"Always have an out, if there was ever a first rule, that's it. Besides, it's habit by now."

Another few moments passed before Chloe spoke. "Seems like a hard way to live. Always being ready to run."

"It was about surviving but yes, it is." Max admitted before she pushed the needle through with a hiss. "Contrary to what you saw, I didn't survive the past years by running in like an idiot and getting myself cut up, I learned my lesson the first time." She said nodding towards her scarred right shoulder.

Chloe regarded the healed burns with a grimace. "What happened?"

Max sighed. "Another time, the point is, planning and staying calm is smart, what i did tonight? That was stupid, pulling shit like that would have killed me."

A nagging question pecked at Chloe's mind, demanding release. "What you said to that last man with the beard, what did you mean 'I am the storm'?"

Max was silent for almost a minute as she continued the torturous process of stitching her chest closed. "What did you see on the boat?" She eventually asked.

It was not a memory Chloe was comfortable reliving, but the events of the night came flashing back regardless. The barrel of a gun, an unholy scream, Max seeming to pop in and out of existence as she tore into her victims like a demon, the screams of dying men, the roar of gunfire, blood…so much blood.

"You…you did something…" She tried, her voice shaky. "It's like you were too fast to see sometimes and you knew what they were going to do."

Max nodded slightly as she listened before setting down the needle. "Five odd years ago I was sold to a brothel of sorts in near the border of Croatia and Serbia, I think I told you the other night. I tried to fight back every day but by the time a few months had passed I just wanted it all to end."

Her mouth worked silently for a few moments before she continued. "Long story short, a man came in like any other day and fought back harder than I ever had. It didn't really make a difference, he was so much stronger than I was, and he started hitting me. I just wanted him to stop and…he did."

Chloe's brows creased in an uncomprehending frown.

"In fact, everything stopped." Max continued. "And when I pushed, everything went backwards like I pushed rewind on the world's VCR. When I escaped after the storm I didn't want to run home, I wanted to find every person that ever hurt me, everyone who was ever connected to that place…and I wanted to break them like they broke us. There was nothing that could stop me, Time was my Bitch."

She picked the needle back up and started on the final few stitches. "When I said, 'I am the storm', I meant exactly that. There was never a group of vigilantes or terrorists…There was just me, a pissed off little girl, every inch the monster they made me. That's what you saw on the boat, the result of me bending time, I knew what was going to happen because to me it already had."

Chloe stood in stunned silence, her mind refusing to believe what was being said, time travel, powers? They were movie level things, there was no way it could be real.

Her disbelief must have shown on her face because Max sighed to herself as she tied off the stitches and set the equipment down, she turned and looked Chloe in the eyes, the stare becoming uncomfortable as the seconds passed silently. Eventually Chloe blinked and jerked back in shock.

Max was gone.

There was a pained 'oof' from her left and she turned to see Max sitting on one of the larger plastic bags, a pained look on her face.

"Holy shit." Chloe stuttered out.

"Uhhhg, that was stupid." Max moaned.

"Stupid? Max that was fucking awesome! You're an actual, honest to god super hero!" She gushed. "That's how you saved me, freezing time to get down to me…" She trailed off as Max shook her head.

"I didn't."

"I…don't understand." She said, something was wrong.

"I didn't make it in time…you were dead when I got there. I watched the guy with the beard shoot you."

Chloe felt the air leave her as if she had been struck. The haunted look on her friend's face said more than her words could.

"Max..."

"I've never been so angry, not even when this all started, I wasn't even sure I rewound far enough to save you, I wanted to kill them all."

"Max." She tried again.

"Why is this happening? Why do I have to lose everything again and again?"

Chloe ended her rant by wrapping her in a hug tight enough that even she had trouble breathing, she felt time pass by as her friend broke down into sobs, heedless of the blood she was smearing on her own clothes, she just kept her arms tight and rubbed her back in what she hoped was a soothing manner.

Thankfully, Max didn't cry herself to sleep or pass out, as much as the girl needed sleep she didn't think it would be a good idea to let her do so without a shower. Instead the shorter girl reached up and attempted to wipe away what was undoubtably blood from Chloe's face, the embarrassed look on her face indicated that she was not at all successful.

"Uhm, you might want to shower, there's one through that door." She said in a small voice.

"I need to shower?" Chloe said as she looked Max up and down pointedly.

"I still need to put my stuff away, besides, you won't want to use that shower after I'm done. It's going to need bleach…and fire."

That prompted a chuckle from her, even if it felt forced. Conceding the point, she moved over into the small room that served as the bathroom. Even as she undressed and brought the water to an acceptable temperature, she couldn't control the tide of memories that crashed down on her. She opted to turn the water even hotter in hope that it would calm her mind as much as it relaxed her muscles.

It seemed to work for a while, but soon she found her mind wandering dangerously as she pressed her head against the wall and let the near scalding water run down her back. She looked down and could have sworn the water was blood red and she clenched her eyes shut.

Strong arms held her steady as she was forcibly moved onto the boat.

The rancid breath of the bearded man 'Jack' as he leaned in menacingly, "You're worth money, but not that much".

The stinging pain as his fist cracked against her cheek.

The barrel of a revolver so close she could see the round in the chamber.

With a start she opened her eyes to see completely clear water pooling slightly at her feet and she sighed shakily in relief, she reached up a hand to grab the soap bar only to knock it to the ground with trembling hands. Both of her hands began to shake uncontrollably.

A dangerous glint in his eye, a cold note in his voice, "You sit there like a good little boy".

A flash of steel in the moonlight, a pained grunt. The light leaving Jethro's eyes.

A sob broke through her weakening attempt at control. Hot tears pricked at the corners of her eyes. Her walls crumbled in as she rested her head against the wall once more and let it all pour out.


There was something going on at the docking yard. You didn't have to be a detective to figure it out, there were enough police vehicles parked in the distance to accommodate the entire bay precinct. Whatever it was, the whole town would undoubtedly know about it with the space of a few hours.

David huffed to himself, part of him was chomping at the bit to head over and investigate, the rest of him was very aware that he was not an officer here and no matter his history, they were not going to let him just waltz on into an active crime scene. Besides, he was here for a reason, Joyce had an early shift this morning which left him to organize breakfast for himself, years of his wife's cooking had spoiled him and there was no way he was going to settle for his own mediocre skills.

The aroma of fresh diner food struck him as he entered and he could feel his mouth begin to water, Joyce noticed him and shot him a smile that told him she'd be with him shortly, David briefly wondered how she managed to keep up with the crowd that seemed to perpetually fill the diner no matter the hour.

His attention was captured by a blue uniform as Officer Jeffords finished speaking with another one of the two whale's waitresses. He only caught the tail end of their conversation.

"No, you don't have to worry. Whatever happened there is no longer a danger." The dark-skinned officer said comfortingly.

"I'm sorry officer, it's just that hearing gunshots so close has really got me on edge." The young woman replied.

That surprised David, gunshots here in Arcadia bay? In the years he has lived here the only report of gun violence was against Nathan Prescott earlier in the week. He felt his gut clench uncomfortably as he remembered the sheer vitriol with which Maxine had spat during that meeting, that girl had a tongue like a razor blade.

"It's fine, if you remember anything else don't hesitate to give us a call okay? You've been a big help."

The officer turned and almost walked directly into David before he stopped, blinking like an owl.

"Are you okay there Terry?" David asked, Terry was one of the few friends he had made in his time in the town.

"Oh, I'm fine, just a little surprised is all. I was going to give you a call once I finished up here actually."

David frowned in confusion. "Okay, what did you need? And where's Berry?"

The officer just sighed. "Berry's down at the docks now with most of the crew, we're stretched thin right now, can I speak to you outside for a second?"

David groaned internally before shooting a small frown at Joyce who nodded sympathetically, they both doubted he would be back for breakfast anytime soon.

"So what's going on?" David asked as the emerged into the parking lot.

Terry ran a hand over his bald head. "It's a damn nightmare down there David, and the reality is that we're not equipped to handle it, we are doing our best until the Fed's turn up but until then we can't make heads or tails of what happened."

David blinked in surprise, if the Fed's were turning up this fast then the situation was a lot worse than he had thought.

"I've been asked to bring you on as a consultant if you're willing, considering your experience as a MP."

"That bad is it?" David eventually replied.

"You don't know the half of it. Murder is almost unheard of here and…well, it's better if you see it first-hand."

"Alright, I'm in. I have the late shift at Blackwell anyway."

Less than ten minutes later David found himself on the verge of regretting his decision as he stood on the pier as officers bustled about. He had yet to even arrive at the crime scene and yet he found himself near paralysed as the overpowering scent of death wafted over him. Blood and shit, his commander used to describe it and David couldn't disagree, it was a smell he was well acquainted with. With an angry grunt he forced those bloody memories down, he was in control of his mind and he would stay in control.

"Mary mother of god…" He breathed as the boat deck moved into sight.

He had hoped that Terry was exaggerating or at least, he was over playing the event because of lack of experience. No, if anything he had underplayed it. David had seen more than his fair share of death in his service before his time as military police but he had never seen anything like this, the scene before him was not the result of dispassionate bombings or firefights, this was deliberately done in close quarters.

"We've had to cycle people around, greenhorns kept getting sick." Terry said as he came up behind him. "Can't blame them, only reason I haven't joined them is because I haven't had breakfast."

David nodded as he took in the scene before him, lights flashing as a group of officers hurried to document every bit of evidence. "What do you have so far?" he asked.

"Well we're fairly certain that he was the first to go." Terry began motioning towards a large figure laying face-down.

David grimaced, he was fairly certain that it was the man's own intestines he could see poking out from under him.

"Disembowelled before he fell from the raised bow section. He's the only one who shows no sign of a struggle."

David followed as Terry moved onto the deck of the ship, both careful to avoid standing in pools of 'evidence'.

"From here on we have no solid idea of what happened, but I think this one here was the next on the block." He continued indicating a tall, lanky corpse. "Throat cut, .38 revolver in hand."

"This one here put up a fight." He said indicating the next body, a knife hilt jutting from underneath his jaw. "stab wound in his right bicep and of course, the knife in his head. We assume the machete there was his."

David peered down at the weapon, there was blood on the blade.

"Do you think he managed to get his attacker with that?" He asked.

"Hope so, we got samples on the way to the lab." Terry replied as he moved over to a large set of bodies. "These two could be brothers, both African-American, both pushing six and a half feet, that one there got the wrong end of the shotgun." He said, indicating the near headless corpse and the nearby warped-barrel shotgun.

David blanched.

"This one," He continued. "Didn't go down without a fight. Someone bit a chunk out of his neck, gouged out an eye before beating his head in with the same crowbar used to kill the last guy."

David didn't think he could be surprised anymore than he already was, but it seemed the day was determined to prove him wrong. The last man lay face-up on the deck, what was left of his face seemed frozen in the act of screaming, each limb was broken and twisted and almost everything above his brow had been caved in.

"This is the only one we have a positive ID for." Terry said, glaring down at the body. "Jack Mcloud. Pretty high on the FBI and DEA's shit list, wanted for trafficking drugs, weapons and people."

David looked around at the crates dotting the deck. "So all these crates?"

"Cocaine." Terry confirmed.

"Here? Why?"

"We don't have enough people in this town for all these drugs, we assume they planned to store them somewhere or palm it off to a passing truck."

"I don't suppose you have any leads there?" David asked.

"Trucks pass through here multiple times a day, no way to tell." Terry confirmed with a frown.

David glanced over the deck once more. "Whose boat is this?"

Terry's face shrouded over. "That's an easy one unfortunately, belonged to Jethro Paige, one of Arcadia's own, found his body down below."

David sighed into his hand, Jethro had been one of the most common faces in the two whales since he came to the bay. "So, no leads at all then?"

"There was one thing, strange as it was." Terry said pointing to the large bloodied section of the deck. "There's one print in the blood that doesn't make any sense, too small to belong to anyone here. A woman's size 6 to be exact."

David frowned. "Do you think it was a witness?"

"To be honest we don't know, Mcloud was known for trafficking people, could be one of them was here and escaped, but we've had no sign of an unknown woman hiding about town."

A sudden thought occurred to David, an unlikely one but it bared investigating. Hopping from body to body, he made his way to the second of the bodies and bent down to examine the clean cut across his throat.

"Terry, come have a look at this." He called, making room for the larger cop to see the wound. "See the cut here?"

Terry nodded, obviously uncomfortable with being as close as he was.

"It's angled upwards the entire length of the cut."

"What does that mean?" Terry asked as he leaned in to confirm the observation.

"It means that whoever did this was most likely short enough to have to reach up to do so. About the height you would expect the mystery woman to be." David said, his mind already buzzing as it worked to connect any other possible threads.

"Could be that someone had him held from behind and cut upwards?" Terry countered.

"Possible, but the cut is shallow. Usually cutting from that position gets deep enough to mark the spine."

"Shit." Terry breathed. "How often have you seen this sort of thing."

"Too many times, there were good people in Afghanistan and Iraq that worked with us, too many of them were murdered like this for doing so." David said quietly.

"Sorry, shouldn't have brought it up. Notice anything else?"

"Yeah." David mumbled as he stood and began to walk back to the pier. "If the woman stood in the blood then she must have left prints."

"She did, there are partial prints leading halfway up the pier, but we are waiting on ultra violet equipment before we can follow them any further than that."

David hummed in acknowledgement as he walked up the pier following the small yellow cones marking each print. "These are still quite defined, there's no reason for it to stop here."

"You're right." Terry agreed, scribbling down on his notepad. "Maybe she noticed and took off her shoes?"

David narrowed his eyes in concentration as he looked around the wide pier down to the small waves rolling below. "This pier, it's what? Eight, nine-foot drop to the water below?"

"You think they jumped?" Terry asked.

"Tide would have been out, no moon so it would have been out even further. Running along the tide line would have covered any tracks."

"Okay, we can search up the beach front for any clues." Terry said as he continued to jot down notes.

"She probably injured." David postulated. "Every second print has significantly shorter spacing, she was limping."

For the first time in years, David felt in the zone. The almost constant itching in his head receded into nothing as his mind formed and dismissed theories, he hadn't felt so good since the early days of his deployment, he felt…in control. As he stared down the beach he almost smiled.


Interview recording #2

Subject: Warren Graham.

Juliet Watson: Thank you for coming for this interview Warren.

Warren Graham: *Chuckles* It's fine, I've never been interviewed before!

JW: So, obviously I'm trying to get a feel for the student body's feelings about the latest events here at Blackwell.

WG: Soooo… Kate's attempted suicide?

JW: Well, yes. That's the main thing but I would also like to hear about the days and weeks leading up to it.

WG: I don't really know what to say, people have been making fun of Kate since the semester began. She always shrugged it off until the vortex party.

JW: Were you at the party?

WG: *Scoffs* Do I look like the type? I mean, I might go to the big ones or if they have a fancy dress one but I'm not exactly in with the club you know?

JW: Everyone's invited to the vortex parties.

WG: I mean, you say that but…some of the members are not exactly the 'welcoming' type…No offense.

JW: No, your fine. I've had to think a lot more about my role in things lately.

WG: I think we all do, even if it's to pay more attention.

JW: Were you and Kate close?

WG: Yeah, we would hang out quite a bit, me, her and Max.

JW: What was Kate like before this week? Few people seem to have known her that well.

WG: She was cool, I mean, not 'Cool' in the Vortex sense but I don't really care much for that….heh, no offense again.

JW: You're fine.

WG: Well, she really liked to draw, she wanted to do kid's books and things like that. She was always good at coming up with little stories for her drawings too. I think she based most of them off bible stories.

JW: I remember her holding bible study groups, so It seems likely, did you ever go?

WG: Oh no, I'm not really interested in religion personally, she invited me but she never pressured anyone to go. I think Max and Daniel were the only regular people to go and I get the feeling that Max went there just to growl at anyone who teased her.

JW: I'm hearing a bit of a pattern, Max was quite protective of Kate?

WG: *Laughs* That's an understatement. Max is really cool, but she can be super scary when she's angry.

JW: And what about Blackwell's hero? You seem to know her well.

WG: Well yeah! We hang out all the time, she's into a lot of the same movies so I leant her my collection for a while.

JW: Does she talk about home much? She's never spoken to me about her time before coming to school here.

WG: *Hums* No, she doesn't talk about Italy very much, she's mentioned going to the Vatican when Kate was talking about her church. Said she had a good 'talk' with one of the priests there…whatever that means, she's not really the religious type.

JW: So nothing about Padova?

WG: What's a Padova?

JW: I'll take that as a no…It's the city she's from.

WG: Oh, then no. I only know that she's been all over Europe and she can speak like 6 languages.

JW: That's…impressive. I didn't know that.

WG: *Laughs* I only know because she said she doesn't need subtitles for some of the foreign movies I gave her.

JW: I see. Back to the subject, there's been a lot of discussion about the role the student body had in pushing Kate so far, what's your opinion?

WG: People Liked to pick on Kate, she was different, and she never fought back. If people here weren't such jerks, then none of this would have ever happened. I mean, I didn't watch the video but even I could have been a better friend and done something about it.

JW: Then you would say that this school needs to address a large bullying problem?

WG: Of course, it's not like nobody see's it, kids get bullied all over the place. Daniel gets thrown in lockers, the jock-straps try to throw their ball and knock Stella's drone out of the air, it's everywhere.

JW: Would you say that Principal Wells has done a good job of addressing bullying when it is reported?

WG: *Snorts* You say that like it's a possibility. The fact Nathan gets away with what he does is proof that he doesn't.

JW: What do you think can be done to help address the problem?

WG: I…I don't know. There's a huge power differential at this school, if you have rich parents then the school goes easy on you. Maybe we just need more people like Max.

JW: In what way?

WG: She's the only one who does anything when she sees it, even if it is to give it right back to them.

JW: Okay, well I think that's about it for now. Thank you so much for doing this.

WG: It's no problem. It'll be cool to be in an article.

JW: Hey, do you have Max's Facebook? I've been trying to find her.

WG: Oh, she doesn't have one.

JW: She doesn't have one? No Insta or anything?

WG: No, I tried to find her after we first met but I couldn't find anything. She said she never used it so she deleted it.

JW: Okay. It just seems a little weird.

WG: Yeah *Laughs* I thought so too. I get the feeling she doesn't like people looking her up sometimes.

JW: Ah, well thanks again!

WG: See ya around.

*Door closes*

JW: What are you hiding Max?


A/N again...

On a side note, in reviewing my past chapters, i feel like i have developed a trend of ignoring the strengths of Chloe's personality in favor of my AU Max, i feel like i can do a better job with her than i have been doing, especially since it is my intention to bring David, Jefferson and Prescock Senior into the story as larger roles. it would not do to have all these new characters when i can barely get Chloe right.

That and i really need to fix the grotesque errors in my past chapters and sincerely apologize for them.