Chapter 07
September 2000
It was noon, one of the first days of the fall semester. "That was quick." She said as he settled on the bench beside her.
"Yeah. I guess Lana had a weak heart. It's unfortunate." This spot was sheltered, private, safer. He opened the bag she had brought him.
"She chose to chase him."
"But she couldn't have known what she was getting herself in to."
"True. So where are we sleeping tonight?"
"The truck, unless you've had a chance to make other arrangements."
"No. Solomon said we could crash at her place but I want to give her more than ten hours notice."
"Well, we'll spend the next two nights in the truck and see about maybe Thursday and Friday with her then. I'll give the keys back to the Dean."
"All right."
Two days later they received e-mails with pictures of them sitting on that bench, and the kind of commentary that left him shaking with anger and disgust and memories of fear. "How the hell did his people get on campus?" She asked as she paced around the empty classroom.
He did not respond to her tone. Fear made her peevish. "I don't know. We just have to control the situation."
"How are we supposed to control this situation?"
"Spend as little time together in public as possible. He's not internet aware, we can communicate that way during the day, meet in a different classroom every time. He can't put cameras everywhere on campus. And then we go home just to shower and sleep."
She considered this, poking at it from every angle in her mind, "And what about...other activities?"
"We can get a hotel room or the back of the truck."
"Oh, I could think of so many dirty comments about that."
He decided not to justify her thoughts with a reply. "If we don't give his men the chance to take pictures he won't have anything to respond to."
She nodded. "Makes sense to me." She stepped up into his arms, rested her head against his chest. "He scares me, you know. Still."
He held her close, ran his hand over her hair. "He can't get to us here."
"No, he hasn't gotten to us here. It's only a matter of time before he finds a way. And if he does..."
He pulled her in tighter. If Voldemort did find them here he knew what would happen. He'd be tortured again, and she would be given to another man to... "He won't. He'll lose interest this time."
"You hope."
"I do."
Within days their e-mail boxes and voice mail boxes were overflowing with the screaming rants of madness. See, your marriage is falling apart. She's off with other men, you know what they'll do. He's off with other women, he doesn't want you. They ignored it all. Voldemort tried to increase the pressure to get some kind of response. Packages sent to the mailroom in their names remained untouched, personal deliveries were politely refused. When they left campus small groups of men trailed them, calling out taunts and threats. They stopped leaving campus, warned security, stayed with groups of acquaintances so they wouldn't be caught alone.
Three times a day they met in an empty classroom for thirty minutes, before going about their day. It was hard but they kept in contact electronically all day. In the end they swore they felt even closer
Six weeks later Voldemort married once more, and it stopped.
Her name was Carla. She had less than two years to live.
