Jimmy knocked lightly on the bedroom door. He never could control his temper, now seeing the horror-struck look on her face was something else he'd have to live with. Add that to the list. He thought about what she'd said; the blame she carried around with herself. How could she have known that would happen? Her mother sounded like a real piece of work, and her husband…well, Jimmy'd like to knock him out. Then again, who was he to question the grief process? Who was he to judge the man for pushing her away when he'd been doing the same thing himself? But now he just wanted to cradle her and tell her he was wrong, and kiss her tears away.

Reese didn't answer so he tapped again. "Reese," he said softly but she still didn't answer. "Maybe she's sleeping," he thought. A yearning rose up inside him as he pictured her on the bed, her lashes fluttering, and her chestnut hair splayed all around the pillow. The urge was too strong. Jimmy couldn't stop himself and opened the door to steal a peek but the room was empty.

"Reese!" he cried fervently. But all he could hear in response were Richard's footsteps charging down the hall.

The two men entered the room cautiously. Jimmy first and Richard only a step behind him. Jimmy held a candle in his left hand, waving it carefully in front of them. But the flame flickered drawing their eyes to the windows on the right side of the bed- one of them open; its lace curtains dancing in the wind.

"She's gone," Richard said.

"No," Jimmy shook his head in denial, "No, she can't be gone. Not in this weather- she'll freeze. She doesn't know anyone else in town, where the fuck would she go?"

"We'll find her," Richard replied, ever obedient and concerned about the girl himself given her fragile emotional state.

"Christ, when did she leave? She could be half-way to the train station by now."

"Does she. Know where. That is?"

"No, you're right. I don't think she does. Richard, if anything happens to her…" Jimmy trailed off, unable to bring himself to finish that thought. You pushed too far this time.

Richard was jiggling his car keys in his pocket, ready to leave whenever Jimmy made the call. But his friend surprised him.

"No, buddy," Jimmy said, his voice full of resolve. "I need you to check-in on my mother and Tommy. I left 'em with the old man, but it's getting late. If it turns out I need back up, I'll call you at the mansion."

"You sure?"

"Yeah."

The soldier gave a slight nod and was on his way, leaving Jimmy alone in the room. Isn't this what he wanted? He walked over to the closet, opened the door, and ran his hand along her dresses; all hanging neatly in a row. He pouted and choked back a sob at the thought of never seeing her again. Never getting to tell her just how beautiful he thought she was, or that he was glad they met that night at Joe's, or that- while he didn't show it- he was happier the last two weeks than he had been in a long time. He tried to pass it off, showering and heading to his room shortly after dinner; always keeping their interactions to a minimum. He bit the knuckle of his left index finger so hard he almost drew blood. I'll find you. Even if I have to look all night.

His mind was racing as he stumbled out the door and back to the car. Where could she have gone? Richard had made a good point about the train station, but it couldn't hurt to check there anyway. Thankfully, it turned out, none of the trains were running in the storm.

Jimmy checked every boardinghouse in the area but none of the proprietors had seen anyone fitting Reese's description. That was another issue in and of itself- Jimmy didn't have a picture of her and was so blinded by his anger when he last saw her that he couldn't remember what she was wearing which made for some awkward conversations. Still, he had to ask and went diligently from door to door for hours.

He thought of the few places they'd been together, checking Joe's first before making his way to the Boardwalk. He was a soaking wet mess as he limped up the ramp towards the Palmist. But most of the shops were closed on account of the weather, and Madame Celeste's was no different. Jimmy stood in front of the shop, the rain pouring off the rim of his hat, staring vacantly into the darkened store. Where are you?

A gust of wind knocked his hat off and blew it in the direction of the ramp. It landed in front of the deli on the corner and he hobbled after it. He bent down to pick up and that's when he saw it- Angela's reflection behind him. Her hair was long again, so long and so beautiful and she was smiling at him.

"Go home, Jimmy…"

How long had he waited for this moment? He touched the glass, unable to breathe and gasping for air. Why? He had so much to say but no words would come out. He whirled around to face her but she was gone.

"Ange? Angela!"

This was shaping up to be one of the worst nights in a long time. Defeated, he trudged down the ramp and back to the car. He felt like he was underwater, everything moving in slow motion. He drove back to the beach house, lost in his thoughts, aimlessly smoking one cigarette after another. When he reached the house, he hung up his coat by the door and went straight to the liquor cabinet. He may not be in the business anymore but he could still get good hooch from Al. He took out two bottles; one half empty already. Jimmy didn't even bother to get a glass- he just opened it and took a long swig, limping into the living room and collapsing in a chair next to the fireplace. He was soaked through, but he didn't care, loosening only his tie as it was starting to shrink and tugged tightly around his neck like a noose. It didn't take him long to polish off the first bottle and open the other.

He must've passed out at some point, because he awoke with a start, his head snapping to attention at a noise- a banging sound.

"What the hell is that?"he muttered under his breath then he heard it again.

It wasn't the first time he'd heard a thump in the night. Sometimes it was the shower running, or the Victrola turning on all by itself. Sometimes it was nothing at all, but it was her, just the same. What Ange, what? What the fuck do you want from me? When he heard it a third time, he realized it was the front door. He wondered why Richard wouldn't just call, but then he remembered that the power was out. Bottle still in hand, he slowly stumbled towards it. His head was woozy, his vision clouded from the alcohol and the tears. Jimmy opened the door and dropped the whiskey.

Reese stood cowering on the step below him. She was shivering, her dress saturated and clinging to her curves, her straggly hair down and curled from the dampness; her eyes wide and helpless. Her arms crossed around herself, she bit lip nervously, clearly still afraid of him and Jimmy felt something deep inside him break.

"You came back," he said hoarsely, cupping her head in his hands and pulling her into a kiss.