Hello again, my lovely readers! Mitana and Obsessive Freak, thank you for the reviews for the last chapter.

My beta, KayValo87, and I have both gone through this several times, so it should be error free. If you find any, I blame myself, and you can too.


Chapter Seven

Meredith woke up several times during the night, her mind trying to convince that she'd had enough sleep, but her body didn't agree with it. Every time her eyes opened and her mind tried to tell her it was time to get up, her limbs refused to move—refused to leave the refuge of the warm blankets.

Her body finally allowed her to get up when the daylight started creeping in the window. She glanced at the digital clock on the night stand, which announced in bright green LED light that it was seven forty-six in the morning.

Meredith pushed back the blankets and stood, grabbing frantically at the bedpost to steady her sleep-heavy legs. Beyond the door of the bedroom, the smell and sound of sizzling bacon beckoned her down the hall to the kitchen.

"Good morning," Agatha beamed, shoveling some scrambled eggs and bacon onto a plate that she held out to the young woman. "I figured you'd be hungry since you slept through dinner. Eat as much as you'd like."

This woman was going to spoil her, and Meredith wasn't sure that she was completely against that happening. "Thank you."

"Feeling better this morning? You were practically dead on your feet yesterday afternoon."

"Yeah. I think I just needed to catch up on sleep. I haven't been getting a lot of that these past few weeks."

"Boyfriend trouble?"

Meredith laughed. "I wish. I don't have a boyfriend. Or a girlfriend." She added, remembering the picture of Agatha's granddaughter. "I just—I've just had a lot on my plate recently. Figuratively speaking." She wasn't quite ready to open up about witness protection and the river—and the dying. That was a box of crackerjacks she intended to put off as long as possible.

"Abraham said he was going to try and come back over today, see how you're doing. It's nice that you're feeling better."

Meredith couldn't remember being as hungry as she currently was for the past several weeks. She accepted a plate of second helpings and a third glass of milk. When she was full, she found herself back in the living room perusing the bookshelves for something to read. After weeks of Netflix, she really didn't feel like watching television. She selected a small paperback, Once a Hero by Elizabeth Moon.

"Ooh! That's my favorite," Agatha said when she noticed Meredith on the couch with the book. "Don't worry, I won't spoil anything for you. Just tell me what you think of it."


A few hours later, Meredith was halfway through the book, drawn into the main character with the force of an electromagnet. On some level, she was that character. She was violently pulled from the book by the sound of a key scraping in the lock—and she knew that Agatha was still in the apartment.

The front door opened to reveal a tall, thin, red-haired woman. The woman froze in the doorway, staring at Meredith. When she rediscovered her motor functions, she slammed the door behind her, glaring at the intruder on the couch.

"Grandma! Where are you?" She called to the apartment, without taking her eyes off Meredith. The stranger put her hand in her purse, reaching for something that she wasn't bringing out yet. Her voice lowered dangerously. "Who the hell are you?"

Meredith's eyes flicked to the picture of Agatha's granddaughter. The picture was far less imposing as the woman was laughing at the photographer, ringlets of red hair blown every which way by the wind. "I'm…"

"Genevieve! For goodness sake, why are you shouting?" Agatha emerged from the kitchen, wiping soapy hands on her apron.

"Who is she?"

Agatha's mouth straightened into a hard, stubborn line. "She's my guest."

"Oh god. Not another free-loader! Really, grandma? They look for people just like you—old, kind, and far too trusting—and then they rob them."

"I'm sitting right here," Meredith said quietly.

"Oh, really? I hadn't noticed," Genevieve hissed, turning again on the perceived interloper.

"Genevieve Kimberly Cooper, I know for a fact that your mother didn't raise you to be so disrespectful to others. Now you will apologize to my guest."

"But, grandma…"

"No buts. Until I forget my name or start drooling at the mouth, you will follow my instructions in my house. Now apologize."

Genevieve looked as though she had bit down on a lemon slice. "Sorry." The apology itself seemed sour and deeply insincere, but Meredith rose to her feet.

"I understand," she said. "My name is Meredith Reine." The minor lie tasted bad in her mouth, especially after she had been accused of taking advantage of Agatha.

"Meredith has fallen on some hard times," Agatha explained. "I'm just trying to get her back on her feet." She gave her granddaughter a hard look. "You may not feel obligated to help people who need it when you run across them in the streets, but don't patronize me when I do."

Genevieve, it appeared, still didn't trust Meredith. She sat down across the room from the woman her grandmother brought home and pretended not to look as though she was watching Meredith's every move.

Agatha had gone back into the kitchen and, from the sound of it, she was on the phone. Meredith couldn't make out anything she was saying, but her tone implied that she was at least a little bit frustrated.

"Genevieve," the older woman called out later, "what would you like for lunch?"

The redhead pushed herself up out of the chair and sent Meredith a warning look before gliding into the kitchen. "Let me see what you have…"

Meredith was tempted to move something just to spite the suspicious woman, but thought better of it. She had another hundred or more pages to go, and the story was just getting interesting. As if on cue, Genevieve reappeared in the living room, making no effort to hide the fact that, as she glanced around the room, she was making sure nothing had gone missing.

Today was going to be a long day.


Meredith heard a knock on the front door, and she wondered if Agatha's apartment was always this popular. Before she could move, Genevieve was at the door, her white-knuckled hand clenched around the door knob.

It was Abe at the door, which greatly comforted Meredith because she now had another ally in the apartment that wouldn't feel guilty siding with her.

"Oh, hello, Genevieve. Is Agatha in?"

"Abraham, I'm glad you came." The lady of the house swept into the room, leading the antique dealer into the apartment. "You're just in time for lunch."

Meredith glanced back at Genevieve. Obviously she had noticed the subtle change that Abe's presence brought. Other people were watching, so she couldn't openly despise the other woman.

Meredith followed the group into the dining room. She hadn't said anything for a while; she didn't feel like saying anything.

"Meredith, could you help me in the kitchen?"

"I'll help, Grandma."

"No," Agatha hissed. "I asked Meredith."

Once they were out of sight and earshot of Genevieve, Agatha pulled Meredith into a hug.

"I'm sorry about my granddaughter. She wasn't always the suspicious sort. Not until her father ran off with a younger woman and stole everything of value that the family had. Since then she has been especially guarded around strangers." Agatha buried a hand in her greying hair. "So, I think it would be best for you to go and stay with Abe for a while. I talked with him over the phone, and he agrees that this is probably the best solution. He has an extra room at his place, and his roommate is a more trusting sort."

Meredith hugged Agatha. "Thank you. I'm sorry for being a bother."

"For goodness sake, child, you are not a bother! If Genevieve didn't look like she would call the police if you touched so much as a butter knife, I would have you stay here. You go and gather your stuff and I'll dish up lunch. You can take one of my tote bags from the closet."

Meredith packed quickly, not trusting that Genevieve would be deterred for long. It didn't even seem like her life anymore, just a bunch of clothes shoved into a bag. This was more like the life some of her friends had chosen: to live from place to place without the promise of a roof over their head.

Leaning the bag against the wall outside the kitchen, Meredith helped carry the plates into the dining room. She didn't say anything during the meal, not trusting her voice not to crack under the tension she was feeling. The talk around her failed to hold her interest as her mind fell back into the plot of the book she had been reading, thinking about how the life of the main character had also taken a turn in a crazy direction that she never saw coming.

Witness protection was always something that other people—some unknown portion of the population—endured to stay alive. And cheating death—that was the stuff of YouTube, urban legends, and Mythbusters. If someone had told her that she would drown in the East River and emerge soon after without a mark on her…well, not quite without a mark. Her foot curled around the scar on her leg and ankle. If someone had predicted that her life would decay into this, she would have laughed in their face. But normality was permanently out of reach for her now.

The conversation was winding down around the young woman, and she was starting to receive more suspicious looks from Genevieve when Abe was focused on Agatha.

"Well, thank you again for the meal, Agatha," the aging man said, pushing back in his chair. "But I think that Meredith and I should be on our way."

Genevieve's head shot up at the mention of the perceived intruder potentially leaving. Meredith snorted at the hopeful look that suddenly blossomed on the other woman's features.

Can't get me out of here fast enough, can you? Meredith's thoughts burned like acid in her head. Suddenly the keening sound of panic started to cry in the dark corner of her brain where she had shoved it the day before. But if I go outside, will they find me again? Will they kill anyone who has had contact with me? Will they kill anyone who's helping me?

"You mean she's with Abe? Why didn't you say so?" The relief in Genevieve's voice was almost funny, if Meredith weren't in the middle of an internal panic attack.

"Gen, you tend to stop listening if you see someone you don't know where you don't expect to find them." Agatha chuckled. "My offer to pay for your therapy still stands."

"Hell no!"

I have to tell them. I have to tell someone. I still need to testify. Meredith looked up, not quite comprehending, when she heard her name.

"We need to get back before Henry does. You promised to help with dinner, right?" Abe held out his hand to help her up and Agatha handed her the tote bag she had left in the hall.

"Right," she agreed slowly. I have to tell him. A glance at Genevieve silenced her because she saw a glint of something like begrudging trust in the woman's eyes. Though her real name and life story were exerting an inhuman pressure on her tongue, she didn't want to jeopardize something so young and fresh by burdening them with her secrets. "I hope I'll see you again, Agatha. I loved the book. It was nice meeting you, Genevieve."

To her surprise, Meredith was honest about that last statement. She was pleased to have met Genevieve—to have met anyone after spending weeks cooped up in an apartment with the same two people. Even if the woman didn't trust her.

Slinging the bag over her shoulder, Meredith followed Abe out of the apartment and down to his car.

"Glad to leave Genevieve behind?"

"Oh god, yes. She wouldn't listen to me when I tried to tell her that I wasn't a thief. She spent so much time watching me, she should go talk to the FBI about a job." Meredith took a moment to run her hands through her hair, fluffing it with her fingers. "So what do you want me to help with for dinner?"

"You don't have to if you don't want to. I was just saying that to get you out of there faster."

"No, I want to help. I'm just a little out of practice. I could make some dinner rolls."

"Perfect."

Silence fell between them and Meredith could hear that little part of her brain screaming that she need to tell him.

"Um, Abe?" The words were caught in her throat. And most of the explanation still sounded crazy in her head. "I may not have been completely honest with you."


Things are starting to come together... Please leave reviews! And don't worry: Henry and Meredith will meet soon.