The tumbler was solid and cold to the touch. Leering at the rapidly melting ice cubes that were diluting her drink, Judith felt the sides of the glass cup her lips as her face slid closer to the desk.

Amber and crystal can be deadly.

With a crash, the front door slammed.

"HARR-USSSS?!"

Judith slurred and dropped the glass, feeling jagged splinters of glass brush against her naked calf as she sluggishly pulled herself up. The blonde mane was visible before Emma was.

"No, it's me. I can't get through to Daddy."

"You. I see you came. Was John Ross busy?"

Emma glared at her grandmother. The sight before her was indeed distressing. It was one thing taking his files, but Judith had torn his study apart.

"Looking for something in particular?"

Judith groaned. The weight of her head was too much. Hunching over the veneered wood, she appeared to be retching. Emma turned uncertainly before grabbing the waste paper basket at the door. Shoving it in front of her grandmother's face, she turned away to block out the visual. Moments later, the chair screeched as Judith moved backwards and stood up fully.

"Are you sure he's not just in the office?"

"Yes, I'm sure. He hasn't been there for the last two days. He hasn't been here much either."

"Daddy was here yesterday. I spoke to him."

It was out before she could stop it. Emma rolled her eyes at how quick she was to please all the wrong people.

"What did he say?"

In failing to respond quickly, Emma revealed more than if she had said the first thing that came to mind. Even if it had been a lie.

"Not much. He seemed pretty angry."

Not being able to see Judith made the silence that much more unsettling. Emma wondered if she should turn around, but the atmosphere was suddenly broken.

"Where is he?"

"I don't know" Emma answered truthfully.

The swipe of the jewellery laden claws off of the desk ran down Emma's spine.

"I have something to show you, Emma."

Skim a stone across a lake and you will see the ripples quake.

Over and over again, the rhyme wouldn't go away. The car swerved dangerously in and out of the lane. Thinking about this too much would end badly. The only option was to get there and deal with emotions later. Away from all of this. In privacy.

The lights were still on, but there was little point in venturing inside. There was only one place to go and the way was illuminated by streetlamps and a hooker with a freshly painted trout pout, who stumbled out from behind a dumpster. Cobblestones were not made for those in high heels.

Loose gravel and pebbles crunched underfoot, as vines and uprooted tree trunks threatened to capture and drag any trespassers to a ready-made six foot box.

Do not give into it, do what you came here to do before it's too late for all of us.

Through the weeping willows and old oak branches, an aqua-marine haven lay waiting. Even from this distance, the red-tinged streak was showing itself, dampening the water's edge. Already the ripples had calmed as the current returned to normal.

A slow pace should do the trick. Marching didn't do anybody any good anyway. Soldiers, maybe, but they all died at the end of it. Fearful shadows loomed, but they were vanquished at the stillness of the vast lake. Dry evenings such as these did not facilitate the thickening marsh underfoot. A glimpse downward confirmed that this certainly was an infliction of an external source. Darkening trails of rich red liquid squelched into mother earth as the remaining steps came to an abrupt halt.

And there, beneath the shimmering shards of glass, lay a slithering mountain of a man. Shuddering breaths, he tried to hide. Vainly trying to conquer his fear of the approaching footfall.

"Get up, Harris!"

Patients receiving electrical cardioversion will jolt with the power of two low energy shocks, as a way of resetting the heart back to its normal rhythm. Harris Ryland felt his aortic valve jolt as his heart reset at the decibels echoing in his ears. Rousing himself enough to register where he was, he attempted to push himself upwards. The incoming lap of water sent a wave of panic through his brain and he scrambled wildly, without moving off the ground. Hearing the sharp intake of breath above him, he raised his hand for aid. Pebbles crunched around him as he sensed the foreboding figure move to his side.

"GET UP!"

Flailing against the weight of his own body, Harris turned his head towards the voice. Darkness enshrouded the bank and yet, the light he witnessed, burning with the fury of an angry mob, could not be quieted. Had his skeleton been made of adamantium, he could not have moved quicker. Stumbling onto his feet, he struggled to keep his balance.

"How did you-?"

"What the hell do you think you're doing?! What is this?" a shadow of a hand gestured to the pieces of broken bottle that surrounded both of them like a pentagram.

"How did you-?"

"You have the gall to leave me that letter – how the hell did you even manage to get that into my bag without me seeing you? – and in it you whine about everything YOU lost – everything YOU did – and here I find you AGAIN, drunk and delusional!"

Silenced by the volcanic ash she spewed at him, Harris stood, awkwardly balancing himself as he leaned forward. She was so tall and elegant, a vision, as she railed at him. So dignified. How was it that anyone could remain so beautiful and contain this much volatile rage?

After an excruciating silence, he watched as she impatiently looked around her, from left to right with an angst-riddled expression, until eventually:

"How….HOW DARE YOU, YOU BASTARD!"

All around them the scream reverberated in an echo that entered Harris' head like a boomerang. Suddenly, he felt weak again as he saw Ann also lean forward from the exertion of her anger. Gasping from the refusal to give in to her sadness, she grabbed his lapels, eliciting a howl that could only have come from within. They say that transference of emotion is common in such cases as these. The rarity of the situation meant that Ann unknowingly allowed Harris a full view of her grief. For it was grief that caused her to return to this place. The loss of a child, particularly when that child is still living, is irreparable and Ann knew the pain of it as if Harris had stripped their daughter from her womb.

Sadly, he saw for the first time the true extent of the damage he had caused her. The tears sprang from his eyes as he watched the light of his life display every emotion, reflected back at him in those orbs that shone violently bright with hatred, love, despair and a million other feelings he could neither describe, nor alleviate. She shook him.

"DON'T YOU DARE CRY TO ME! DON'T YOU DARE PRETEND THAT YOU KNOW WHAT YOU'VE DONE TO ME!"

Terror had been far from his mind as he lay on that bank alone, waiting for death. He realized now, he had never known terror before this moment as he stood shaking, opposite the woman he had helped to break so long ago. Harris' lip trembled in shock as he saw that Ann was nowhere near done with him. Getting closer, eyes alight, she sneered into his cowering frame:

"When I met you, you were a man under his mother's thumb. Now, you're nothing but a sniveling child. You've regressed, Harris Ryland and you make me SICK!"

Harris heard himself snuffle back tears as she continued.

"You said you would fix this. And you will. Believe me. You will. I'll make sure of that. Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice…you don't get that far."

"STOP IT!"

Ann released his coat lapels in disgust as the smell of alcohol carried off his breath. As she let go, he grabbed her arms. Wrenching them away, she felt one of his hands wrap around her waist and the other gently touch her face. She struggled. The urge to knee him in the groin came and went. Her face felt like a furnace when his skin made contact. Her eyes blazed in a frenzy as the thought crossed her mind to stab him with a shard of glass, but this too passed. Even sobering up, Harris was able to read her mind and he spoke quickly to calm the situation.

"Be angry, hit me, kick me, take it out on me-"

Ann rose up against him, shaking, with her face contorted in blind ferocity.

"but please….don't turn into my mother…"

Internally, Ann felt her stomach drop at the comparison to Judith. Her mind was enraged at yet again being reminded of the vicious character of that woman, but as usual, Harris had made a valid point. Watching her intently, he saw that his gut instinct had not failed him. Her eyes burned bright, but they were lowering to a simmer. Anger inevitably turns to tears, but Ann resisted the transition. Everyone has a breaking point. Perhaps the well had finally run dry.

"Hate me. Whatever you want. Take it out on me, however you want….just, please, don't do that."

They stared at each other for what felt like an eternity and yet, much like all good things, it came to an end.

"How did you know where I was, Annie?"

Her eyes flickered, then twitched. Summoning the strength to answer had never felt so inexplicably painful.

"Subtlety has never been your strongpoint, Harris. That letter was less of a cry for help and more of a pathetic, attention-seeking move.

"That's not TRUE!"

"If there was really another reason you made this godforsaken deal, you would have mentioned it while you were spilling your empty heart on the page."

Empty. Yes, you're quite right. I am empty.

"What have you done, Harris?" she levelled her gaze with a determination he hadn't seen since the evening she shot him.

Staring straight into her eyes, he remembered what it was to leave pretense behind.

"Cliff offered to give me enough financially to take the company out from under my mother's control. I accepted."

Ann bored into his eyes, checking to see if the truth lay behind them somewhere.

"In exchange for what?" she spat the last word with a grimace.

Harris paused. This is it. Once she knows what you did, she will kill you. It'll all be over soon.

"I employed someone to blow up the rig, Annie. Cliff wanted witnesses. To compromise the Ew-...I had them use Drew."

Ann's eyes widened in horror as it sank in that his acknowledgement in the hospital had all been a cover for his own involvement in the explosion. Despite how genuinely shook up Harris appeared, Ann disregarded it, as anger coursed through her veins, renewed. Seizing the opportunity to delay any repercussions that were coming as a result of this information, Harris added:

"My mother is running her own business, Annie. A brothel."

This revelation failed to surprise Ann, nor did it awaken any sense of anger in her. That was until she thought about this woman raising her daughter as her own for the last 20 years. Then, Ann found that her hands were free and instinctively raised them to his neck. Strangle him. No jury in the world would convict you.

He met her stare with all the familiarity that was to be expected between two people as damaged and familiar as they were.

"Wait!"

Imploring her to listen to him, in the depths of all this madness seemed impossible, but he had to try.

"I would gladly let you kill me, Ann. Believe me… but, I have to stop her first. Whatever you want me to do then, I wi-."

"You would have been better off not telling me this, Harris."

He stopped. It was as if she had sliced his wrists open and stood on them.

"You can get out of my sight."

"I'm sorry, A-"

The half-sober, half-drunken stupor wasn't so bad after all. He barely felt a thing. In fact, it wasn't until he opened his eyes to the sound and sight of Ann's cowboy boots stoically marching away from where he lay, that he realized she had punched him square in the jaw.

"You know, drinking is the worst thing to do when you're on medication, sweetheart?"

"You're one to talk. How could he do this to me?"

Judith smiled knowingly as she held her granddaughter close. Emma's fingertips grazed the leaflet for a recovery program, that Judith claimed to have found in a drawer of Harris' desk. And in the study of the Ryland home, two blonde heads worked as one to overthrow father and son.

The phone rang out beside her as Ann sat crumpled against the steering wheel. Unable to stop crying, she lifted the phone and upon seeing the private number, flung it against the car door.

"ANN? WHERE THE HELL ARE YOU?"

Jumping at the sound of Bobby's voice on loudspeaker, Ann fumbled for the phone that had slipped between the door and the car seat.

"Bobby?"

"Annie, what's wrong?"

"Nothing, I ju-"

"You're crying? What's happened?"

Collecting herself enough to speak clearly, Ann managed a lie "I'm worried, Bobby. The house is destroyed. What are we gonna do?"

"I'll take care of it, Ann. I promise. Where are you?"

Rolling her eyes, she thought of all the promises that people made in their lives. Ones they never intended on keeping.

"At the Omni."

Another lie. Getting good at those.

"You didn't show up today. I was worried."

The stabbing pains returned to her left arm as she gaped into the silence.

"I'm sorry, I-"

"Is this because of Emma?"

The thought that Bobby didn't know about the deal with Cliff tore at her insides.

"No, no it's not. I forgot."

Yes, Bobby. I can practically feel you frowning.

"I forgot because I was driving around looking for somewhere we could rent in the meantime."

Ridiculous. Pathetic lie.

"There's no need for that. I told you, we'll get it fixed."

Again with those promises.

"Emma was here today, looking for you."

At this, Ann brightened and opened her eyes. "Really?" The surprise in her voice could not be masked.

"She didn't stay long. I didn't know where to tell her to look for you. She said she'd tried calling…"

Oh, did she?

"Yes, I missed her call. She left a voicemail."

Please end this, I don't want to talk anymore.

"Will I see you tomorrow?"

"Yes! I promise."

Did I really just say that?

"Alright. I love ya, Annie."

"I love you too. Goodnight."

Hanging up, Ann looked out at the monochrome building she had parked next too. Determining that if Bobby found out, he would have to hate her later for what she was about to do, she stepped back out of the car.

The trek wasn't nearly as long this time. She heard the clumsy stumbling coming towards her and she stopped in her tracks.

"Harris?"

Furtive steps, followed by shaky breathing. "Yeah. Over here."

Following the sound, she found him propped up against a tree trunk in the clearing.

You've made it this far, you must be alright.

"Have you come back to hit me again, Annie? 'Cause I'm not sure I can take it right now."

He was out of breath and in the moonlight, Ann could see beads of sweat materializing on his forehead. Remembering what she had promised herself, she pushed the anger aside. Momentarily.

"You can't drive home like this."

"I'll be alright."

"NO! You won't." The anger curved its way back up towards her chest.

"I can't go home, Annie."

"And why not? I thought you said Judith wasn't there."

"She wasn't when I left."

"She is now?

Sure you won't be happy to see her? Delighted to give in to her every whim? No, don't say it, don't say it.

"I don't know, but I'd imagine so."

Knowing that the house was far from being his, Ann drew a blank at the prospect of Harris having nowhere to stay.

"Well, you need to tell me where to bring you to."

Harris' breathing had increased rapidly and he was now further hunched over.

"I'll be fine. Go hom-go back to the hotel."

"No."

Harris strained his neck to look up at her in what appeared to be angry confusion. That was all Ann needed to see.

"I'm taking you to the hospital."