CE 68

Thirteen-year-old Sarik Ostheim continued down the long, empty corridor, eager to leave the school as quickly as possible. Not only had today been one of the most stressful in recent memory, pushing him to his mental limits, but the suit-and-tie school uniform that the school required required him to wear was beginning to bug the absolute crap out of him.

It was his final month of middle school, and Sarik was all the more happy for it. While he hadn't had to deal with too many social problems since he'd moved up to his current grade, every time he walked into a room, the only feelings he seemed to experience were those of awkwardness and discomfort. The fact that he rarely spent more than six months in each grade might have been a contributing factor to his situation.

But today especially, something just seemed wrong, out of place. When he had been introduced into his first high school level class, a nagging sensation had formed in the back of his mind, the feeling only growing worse as each hour of the day passed by. Now, it had grown to a level that brought him a great deal of concern. It was almost as if his mind already knew something was going to happen, something that he was completely oblivious to consciously.

Sarik sighed as he typed in the combination to the door on his locker and pulled it open. He had always feared that this day would come. A small number of the more prestigious members of Blue Cosmos had their children attending this very academy, who over time, had begun forming their own neo-Blue Cosmos in the form of bully groups and small gangs. This combined with that fact that his status as a "Coordinator" was by no means a secret meant that it was only a matter of time before something was bound to happen.

And as Sarik perceived two sets of footsteps coming from down the hallway, he conceded to this fact. He quickly glanced around, then berated himself for getting caught here alone, since there were no cameras that scanned over his current position. In fact, the internal security of this school was quite lax when compared that of a normal public school. What had his father been thinking?

Just calm down, Sarik told himself. Fast, controlled breaths. Keep the heart rate accelerated but under control. Don't snap.

But as his locker was slammed close right in front of his face, Sarik found it all for naught, his breathing and heat rate racing. For about the past two years, he'd found it increasingly more difficult to control his aggression. He had technically hit puberty while he was at the Blue Cosmos facility, an expected side-effect of the growth acceleration, so his body was now equivalent to that of someone two or three years his senior, albeit being significantly shorter. And apparently, that was an age when a male's natural aggression was usually at its peak.

"You're the new guy, right?" a towering brunette boy said, his hand holding Sarik's locker closed.

"May I inquire as to what you mean?" Sarik questioned, his arms folded as he slowly turned towards the older male, who was apparently accompanied by a slightly younger lackey, this one red-haired.

"In our class," the young man clarified, pushing away from the locker and moving towards Sarik.

"Yes," Sarik answered, moving his right foot behind his left in anticipation for a fight. If he did this correctly, he could take both of them down before they had any kind of a chance to respond. Until he had met Takeo, Sarik had managed to quickly take down every one of the hand-to-hand combat instructors that his parents had hired, even significantly injuring the arm of the first. Now, he had come to respect anyone who challenged him, as one never knew of what they were capable. Takeo certainly didn't look it at first.

"You must be doing pretty well for yourself to be this far ahead," the brunette remarked as he stopped half meter from Sarik. "You're what, fourteen, fifteen?"

"Thirteen, actually," Sarik responded calmly, allowing himself to relax slightly. Maybe he might have just been overreacting.

"Oh, really?" the brunette questioned, smirking. "You must be some sort of genius. Could you remind me what your name is?"

"Sarik," the boy replied confidently.

"Ostheim?" the brunette prodded.

Sarik glanced warily at the nearby redhead. He hadn't said a single word the entire time. He'd only been glaring at Sarik in the most unnerving way, an almost hateful fashion.

"Yes," Sarik answered cautiously, tensing his stomach and chest muscles slightly.

"Well, why don't you come with us?" the brunette asked, putting a forceful hand on Sarik's shoulder. "There's something cool that we'd like to show you."

"Thanks, but I have to be somewhere soon," Sarik told him, trying to sound as sincere as possible. Which wasn't difficult, considering that it was the truth.

In response to that remark, the redhead rolled his eyes and advanced on the two, causing Sarik to tense every muscle in his body.

"Cut the shit," the boy remarked, his movements becoming very threatening all of the sudden. "Let's just get this over with."

And that was the only excuse that Sarik needed. Snapping like a scared house cat, Sarik curled the tips of the fingers in his right hand as he shot his arm forward. Forcing his wrist out, the boy managed to direct the palm strike immediately below the brunette's sternum, catching him in the diaphragm. Normally, such a blow was saved for the face, due to the number of bones that could be easily broken, but when an attack that powerful got up underneath one's ribs, the results could be deadly.

As the teenage boy before him released Sarik's shoulder and gasped desperately for air, Sarik used his freed left arm to smash the deceiver's head into the solid steel lockers. The young man slid to the ground, most likely unconscious.

Sarik turned towards the redhead, whose advance had only accelerated. However, the boy was obviously very inexperienced in combat, as he was bringing to bear a sloppy backhand blow while still charging. Sarik easily ducked under this attack, forcing the other boy's right hand against his body and bringing his right knee up into his crotch.

Now, normally, such a blow most likely would have just stunned a boy as old and large as the redhead, perhaps even caused him to wobble a little at the knees. But this was not a weak, undirected attack from an everyday Natural; this was a deliberate, well-aimed attack from someone so experienced, so well trained, that he could kill individuals several times his size. The redhead hadn't even a fraction of a second to so much as think before the excruciating pain plunged him into unconsciousness.

Sarik glanced over at the brunette once before bolting down the hallway. He had to distance himself as far away from this place as he could. It didn't matter if he started the fight or not; if it was discovered that he was the one who defeated those two, he would be in more trouble than he could imagine. Well, more trouble than MOST boys could imagine.

* * *

Sarik stared at the two weapons that sat on the desk before him, trying to determine if they could be modified for his needs or not. He knew that he was particularly adept with staff-like weapons, something that he had discovered recently during his sparring sessions with Takeo, which is why he had spent the past two hours trying to find something with which he could defend himself at school.

However, one could not simply carry such a weapon onto school grounds conspicuously. He had to somehow fashion a similar tool into a more compact form, thus the reason he had smuggled a pair of collapsible batons from his instructor's training equipment. It wasn't like they used them, anyway.

His current obstacle was connecting the two batons at their bases in a way that would remain strong and steady without impeding his use of the resulting staff during a fight. He had an entire list of ideas written down on a piece of paper next to him, most of them scribbled out after being eliminated by reason or failed implementation. The most realistic idea he had left was to use an industrial-grade resign to bond the two, but he had neither that nor a cylindrical mold to ensure that it set correctly. And it was doubtful that one would find so much as a supermarket in this direction, much less a hardware store. He would probably have to drive all the way to Berlin to find any sort of store that sold such supplies, and he couldn't do that without a good reason, or risk raising suspicion.

As Sarik rubbed his head in frustration, an idea came to him. He'd completely forgotten that Sarah was returning from the Extended facility in the Pacific today. After searching "plastic epoxy" on his computer, he managed to find just what he was looking for.

As he printed out the specifics, Sarik dialed in a number from memory on his cell phone and waited a few rings.

"Hello?" said Sarah's voice cautiously. "Who is this?"

Sarik forgot. This number was her private secure line. He was supposed to use the other.

"Hi," the boy greeted sheepishly. "It's Sarik."

"Oh, hi," Sarah responded. "Sorry I haven't called you. Just got in."

"Oh, no, it's fine," Sarik assured. "Actually, I was wondering if you could help me with something."

"What is it?" his mentor questioned.

"Well, I have this project for school, and I can't seem to be able to find most of the stuff I need around the house," he informed her. "Do you think you could help me find someplace that does?"

"I should be able to," Sarah told him. "It might be an hour or so before I get there, though."

"Where are you?" Sarik inquired.

"Berlin," Sarah replied. "I literally just got in."

"Do you think I could meet you somewhere in the city?" Sarik asked. "I can have my driver take me there."

"If it's all right with your parents," Sarah said sternly. "I told you before, I'm not going behind their backs ever again. They're still mad at me about Aaron and Amelia, you know."

"I know, I know," Sarik assured. "I'll call you back in a minute."

"Sounds fine," Sarah stated. "And use the other line."

As he hung up, Sarik smirked. This was getting to be too easy.

* * *

Sarik cut through the air with his newly forged weapon, striking an imaginary opponent in the side. He quickly followed through with a spinning strike to the head from the staff's opposing end.

After cutting through the air for a few more seconds, Sarik was satisfied. The two batons hadn't set as quite as well as he had intended, causing the resulting weapon to be less than straight. However, there was no wobble in the entire construction, and everything was pretty much balanced out when he wrapped some insulator foam around where he intended to grip the staff. So far, his attacks were unhindered, so the weapon would serve its purpose adequately.

After taking a moment to catch his breath, Sarik suddenly burst into action, letting out a flurry of attacks at an imaginary group, blocking and dodging his opponents' many blows.

However, Sarik got so caught up in his practice that he failed to observe his surroundings, and the lamp that set on his bedside dresser was soon nothing more than hundreds of finely shattered shards of glass.

As he heard footsteps coming up the stairs, Sarik quickly scrambled to collapse his new weapon and toss it underneath his bed. It would do him no good to get caught with it now.

* * *

Sarik stalked quickly through the hallways. He had no doubt about it. Someone was definitely following him. Actually, multiple someones, and from ultiple directions. He had to get to his locker. He had to get to his weapon.

As he arrived at the storage device, Sarik was already attempting to mash the combination onto the keypad, causing him to skip the first two digits. He growled at himself as the lock let out a low-pitched beep. Calming himself, the Extended quickly input the correct code, causing the locker to pop itself slightly ajar.

Sarik just barely managed to get a grip on his baton staff with his left hand before he felt himself being slammed into the locker next to the right of his

As the Extended gained his bearings, he realized that the perpetrator was none other than the brunette from a few days before. Except this time, he was accompanied by four lackeys, the redhead absent among them.

"You know you hurt our friend, right?" the boy holding Sarik informed. "He's going to have to get surgery because of you."

Sarik smirked. There was no point in replying. These boys had come for vengeance. No amount of logic would sway them, so he wasn't going to waste the time. Not to mention that he was proud of himself for possibly rendering the fool from yesterday infertile.

The brunette had been concentrating so much on beating Sarik that he hadn't taken the time to realize that the Extended's arm was still partially in his locker. And that he was holding a fat, stick-shaped object with holes on either end. Nor did he notice that Sarik had just put pressure on two points towards the middle of the said stick.

Sarik directed one end towards the brunette's neck, and in one swift motion, snapped his arm forward, holding the object like a spear. And just as the baton's segments snapped into place, its tip made contact with the offender's throat.

As the boy reflexively loosed his hold, Sarik swept one of his feet forward, sliding it behind his attacker's leg and pulling back towards him, tripping the brunette. The older boy fell to the ground, and Sarik dispatched him by bringing his foot down on his temple, causing the attacker to fall into unconsciousness.

Sarik brought his body into stance, his short staff held horizontal to his body in preparation for an offensive. While these were only Naturals that he was fighting, he would prefer to not have to take on four opponents at once. That simply wasn't the smartest way to go about things. However, at the moment, the four of them blocked all avenues for escape. And from the looks of it, they weren't all that intimidated, despite the fact that he had completely incapacitated their leader in less than five seconds.

So be it, Sarik told himself as he moved into a low crouch and leaped towards the nearest two.

Sarik had planned on making this quick and relatively painless, but he soon realized this was impossible as the two boys before him each drew a blade, the shorter of the two weapons being sixteen or seventeen centimeters long.

Sarik heard running behind him and turned, halting his advance as he realized that the two he had left at his back were each armed with batons, the crackling devices attached to their tips indicating that the weapons had TASER functions built into them. Those were the immediate threat, because if they were set high enough to take down a Coordinator, which they most likely were, a poor fate would be imminent if they made contact with his skin.

As the boys began to encircle him, Sarik slowed and moved cautiously back towards the lockers. At least if he had his back to wall, there was only an angle of one hundred eighty degrees from which he could be attacked.

As the boys stalked cautiously forward, Sarik began searching manically for a way out. This wasn't what he was used to. He knew how to fight defensively, but not this way. Not against four men armed with lethal weapons such as theirs. There was just no way out.

But as Sarik listened to himself think, his eyes narrowed. What was wrong with him? He had broken out of a Blue Cosmos facility when he was only eight years old. Why should this have to be any different? While taking Takeo's lessons to heart wasn't necessarily a bad thing, while trying to become a civilized person was probably a good thing, was it right for him to let them make him weaker? Of course not.

After taking a deep breath and calming himself, Sarik jumped back onto the offensive, charging to his right at one of the knife-wielders. Rather than attacking the boy directly, however, Sarik switched things up, spinning around and using the back end of his staff to catch the boy in the hand and send his knife flying. Sarik followed through, bringing the same end of the staff around and into the boy's shin, and as his opponent fell to the floor, Sarik brought his foot up and kicked him in the side of the neck. Thankfully, there wasn't the definate snapping sound of a spine breaking, so Sarik assumed the boy to merely be unconscious as he lay unmoving on the floor.

As expected, the next closest attacker moved in on Sarik as soon as the Extended had begun the attack on his comrade. Knowing this, Sarik spun about, forcing the back end of his staff into the boy's rib cage. This time, an audible cracking sound was heard as the boy fell back from the force of the blow, writhing in pain.

But Sarik knew it wasn't over as he lashed out, causing one of the remaining boys to stop in his tracks and leap back. Taking the offensive, the Extended charged across the meter that separated them and swept his baton staff at his attacker's legs. However, he was just barely blocked as Sarik's opponent brought his own weapon in to impede the attack.

Having no time left for another strike, Sarik spun his staff about to defend against the attack from his other opponent, who had circled around beside him. For a split second, the baton's tip was a few centimeters from Sarik's face, and the crackling electricity that he could see coming from it was ample evidence to prove his prior assumptions.

As he swiftly counterattacked and blocked again, Sarik began to wonder: how did these young men procure such weapons? All were illegal to sell to a minor, but these batons especially weren't often used by civilians. They were generally used by law enforcement and security forces who weren't licensed to carry firearms. The most likely scenario was that Sarik's attackers had obtained their weapons from adults.

However, Sarik's thoughts were abruptly shattered as he felt jolt shoot up his body. It wasn't a particularly painful feeling, just surprising. But for some reason, his movements had suddenly become extremely sluggish. As he glanced down at his side, Sarik spotted where a patch of his uniform had charred off, exposing raw, bleeding flesh.

Sarik was thinking about how peculiar this was when suddenly, he was laying on the ground. He didn't even remember falling. He was just on the ground. He felt another jolt shoot up his body as one of the boys forced some sort of object onto his leg. Then the other touched him for a moment on the arm. And then the other touched his object to Sarik's stomach.

For some reason, this time it was painful. Excruciatingly so. Sarik glanced off at one of them. What were they doing? Why were they doing this? Who were they?

Then, as one of his antagonizers prodded him on the chest, it all hit Sarik, and every one of his senses came back to him. Every whisper was an explosion, every sight was as though under a microscope, and every feeling was amplified one hundred times over.

Sarik let out a yell in pain as the electrodes made contact with his skin again. He wanted to respond, he wanted to KILL them, but every time their batons touched him, his body curled up involuntarily. He was helpless.

Sarik prepared to yell with the next strike, but the pain never came. He opened his eyes as one of the boys fell on top of him, as though the air were being squeezed from his lungs. Looking over, Sarik spotted Aaron, forcing one of the shock batons into the other of his attacker's neck. As the young man fell to the ground, unconscious, Sarik began the process of slowly sliding out from underneath the unconscious boy on top of him.

"Why the hell are YOU here?" Sarik growled as he braced himself against a nearby locker, shakily climbing to his feet. "I told you to meet me in the car!"

Aaron opened his mouth to speak, but before he could, something dark completely enveloped Sarik's vision, and a powerful stinging sensation was all the boy could feel as he fell back to the floor. He realized he'd just been slapped.

"Why didn't you tell us?!" Amelia yelled, her gray eyes burning into Sarik's mind.

"I'm going to get in big trouble for this," Sarik retorted forcefully. "I don't want to get you involved!"

"You idiot!" Amelia roared, slapping Sarik across the face again. "We're FRIENDS. We're SUPPOSED to get involved. We're supposed to be helping each other!"

As Amelia brought her hand back to slap Sarik again, he spotted something rolling down her cheek. A tear? Why was she crying? This wasn't something that one should be crying about, was it?

But then, she wasn't like him. Neither was Aaron. All three of them were very different people. And now that he thought on it, he probably understood why Amelia was crying. He'd betrayed their trust by doing this on his own. He'd betrayed HER trust.

Sighing mentally, Sarik jumped up and caught Amelia's hand before she could strike him. When she attempted to struggle, he grabbed her other hand.

"I'm sorry," Sarik told her quickly, causing her to stop. "I'm sorry to both of you. I'll do my best to make sure it doesn't happen again."

Suddenly, something caught Sarik's attention. Footsteps.

"Both of you, you have to go," Sarik whispered, releasing Amelia. "Now!"

Aaron nodded and ran silently down the corridor towards the school entrance, but Amelia stood there, staring angrily at Sarik. She really was betrayed, wasn't she?

"You have to go!" Sarik told her quietly. "I promise, it won't happen again."

Amelia glared at him for a second longer, then abruptly bolted after Aaron, rolling her feet so well that she didn't make even the slightest of sound. Sarik stared off at her for a moment, thinking about how scary it would be to have to have to fight her in an environment such as this.

Sarik was about to slump back to the floor, but as he surveyed over the area one last time, he realized that his original antagonizer, the brunette, was laying there on his side, a tiny pistol pointed at Sarik. From what he could tell, it was a .22 caliber pistol with a shortened magazine. Perfect for a situation such as this.

But how had the bastard sneaked it through? There were metal detectors at every entrance. Even if the weapon itself was ceramic, the ammunition had to contain metal. Unless, of course, it was custom made. And only the most wealthy of assassins would have the resources and need for such a weapon.

As the boy fired his first shot, Sarik fell down onto all four legs, then leaped forward, grabbing up one of the batons and one of the knives from the ground as he passed by them.

As the brunette got to his feet and leaned up against the locker, he fired another, most quiet round at Sarik. The Extended dodged to his right, cocking his right arm back as he prepared to throw the stun baton that he held. Just as he was about to release the stun weapon, the gunman let loose, several bullets flying in Sarik's direction. Intentionally tripping himself just before the boy pulled the trigger, Sarik tossed his weapon at his attacker in mid-air, causing it to spin like a helicopter blade through the air. Sarik hit the floor, the tiny but deadly lead projectiles whizzing centimeter over his head as his body weight forced the last ounce of air from his lungs.

Simultaneously, however, the lethal end of the spinning baton made contact with the brunette's stomach. The contact was for less than a second, but that was ample time for the tip to burn through the boy's clothing and make contact with his skin. As the shock stick went skidding across the floor, Sarik's antagonizer fell to the floor, yelling in pain as he reflexively fired his pistol into the ceiling.

Gripping at his newly-acquired knife, Sarik pushed himself to his feet and continued his charge, pulling the brunette to his feet with unnatural strength and holding the blade to the taller boy's throat. The young man feebly attempted to point his pistol at Sarik, but the Extended swiftly and firmly planted his elbow into the crook of the other boy's arm, causing him to drop the weapon.

"You know that I should kill you, right?" Sarik said to the stranger, the stranger who dared to attack simply because he was a little better than everyone else. "Can you tell me why I should allow you to live?"

Sarik pressed the knife a little harder to his captive's throat, causing a minuscule drop of blood to form on its blade.

"It won't matter," the brown-haired young man choked out. "We will get you all, someday. For the preservation…of our blue and pure…world."

"Well, that's too bad," Sarik told him. Sarik prepared to slit the boy's throat, but after a few seconds, realized that he would merely be giving in to his primal instincts. Would he have wasted his talent on a boy like this a few years ago? He didn't think so.

Sarik carefully pulled the knife away from his antagonizer's throat. The other boy relaxed a little and began to move away. However, Sarik suddenly slammed him back up against the locker and lashed out with his right arm, his fingers lined up for a perfect flat-handed attack. Sarik caught the young man in the lump of his throat, and fractions of a second later, the boy was sprawled on the ground with his hands to his neck, staring up at Sarik as he produced the most disturbing of sounds.

"I'm not going to waste my time killing you today," Sarik told him as he squatted down in front of the boy's face. "They might have to revive you, but there shouldn't be too much brain damage."

Sarik watched as the boy's face formed into that of wrath, and his choking increased. Apparently, he was attempting to talk.

"Well, you only have a few moments of consciousness left, so you better listen well," Sarik said as he put his knife to the top of the boy's forearm and pulled back, creating a short, perfect line that caused the brunette to grimace in pain. "You have proven yourself a threat to me, which means that you are a threat to some people that I care for a lot."

Sarik grabbed his captive's arm and placed the blade about a centimeter further up the brunette's arm from the cut, then pulled again, creating another line of blood identical in length to the first.

"I don't want to ever see your face again," Sarik told him as he gripped the boy's arm harder and placed the knife to it. "If I do, I will kill you. But not before discovering what is most important to you. And on the day that they bury your body in the ground, I will utterly and completely destroy whatever that thing is."

Sarik stared at the boy for a second longer, his face cold and unflinching. Satisfied, the Extended forced his knife down as hard as he could on the young man's arm and yanked back, drawing a line much wider and longer than the other two, blood quickly escaping from the wound.

As the boy slumped into unconsciousness, Sarik glared at the knife in disgust and tossed it away, the weapon coming to rest near its owner.

Sarik was about to leave, but he realized that he was forgetting something. Reaching into his attacker's jacket, he pulled from one of its pockets two small magazines. Locating the pistol, Sarik quickly verified that they did indeed fit it. Pocketing the weapon, Sarik began a running limp towards the school entrance. It would be best if he weren't around when this mess was discovered. He could already hear quite a number of faint, distant footsteps already coming to investigate the site.

* * *

"What the hell were you thinking?!" Derick yelled, tossing Sarik's makeshift weapon at the boy's face, hitting him lightly. "Do you understand in the least what you have done?"

"I was defending myself in a situation where I felt adequately threatened, a right that Eurasian law protects," Sarik responded emotionlessly, standing straight and staring at the wall as if a soldier at attention.

"Look me in the eye, boy!" Derick ordered as he leaned forward onto his desk, causing Sarik to do so grudgingly. "You do not go to school armed with an illegally produced weapon just for the hell of it. You were the one who instigated this."

"Yes, you're right," Sarik admitted in a serious tone, glaring at his father. "In a way, I was the one to instigate this, but I was not the one who threw the first blow."

"Yes, but you nearly killed a boy, and now his parents are suing for you to be taken into custody," his father informed. "More than you already have been."

"The reason that I no longer have handcuffs on is because the authority's medical specialists concluded that I was assaulted repeatedly with a less-lethal weapon modified to discharge beyond safe limits," Sarik reported as he rubbed his wrists. "They have ample evidence to justify my position."

"You still have no idea what kind of commotion this is causing, though!" Derick yelled as he stood and began strolling around his desk. "There is no way we can return you to that school."

"You were the one who wanted me to study at a campus," Sarik reminded Derick.

"And you were the one who chose that one!" Derick retorted, moving into his son's face, which higher than his own.

"I warned you then of what would happen," Sarik told his father. "Isn't it just ironic that it actually happened?"

"You ungrateful child!" Derick yelled, slapping Sarik across the face.

As Sarik moved with the blow, he felt his anger boil over; not the the kind filled with rage, but filled with sadness. For some reason, he wanted to cry. He wanted to cry so much. Every one of his gut feelings told him that he should take it, that he should work with this. But his rage, his intellect told him that it was wrong. He wasn't going to be a part of it any longer.

Without a word, Sarik lashed out, grabbing both of his father's forearms and swiftly spinning him about. Forcing one arm behind Derick's back, Sarik pushed the aged man against his desk and held him there.

"You will NOT hit me," Sarik said hatefully. "You may scold me, berate me, and even degrade me, but I will NOT allow you to hit me ever again. Do you understand?!"

Sarik glared at the back of his father's head for a moment longer, then released him and practically leaped the few meters to the office door.

"I want you out," the man said in a completely civil and calm manner as he stood, facing the wall opposite of Sarik. "I don't want to see your face ever again."

Though his face was cold and arrogant, a tear streaked down Sarik's face.

"So be it," Sarik complied emotionlessly, crisply spinning about and walking out of the office door.

* * *

Laura sighed as Sarik marched out of her husbands office, completely passing her over.

"Sarik," she said as the door closed. "Sarik!"

"What is it?" he asked coldly as he stopped, not so much as even glancing back.

"You know that he's just worried, right?" Sarah assured him.

"Are you trying to convince me, or yourself?" Sarik questioned.

"Please don't be like this," Laura begged.

"He no longer wishes to see me," Sarik informed her. "Right now, I am more than happy to oblige. I won't be far if he decides to change his mind."

And with that, he continued his march, descending down the nearest staircase.

Laura sighed, almost ready to cry. But right now, she had something important to do. This conflict, it had to end. And since no one else was willing to compromise, it was her duty in this family to make one.

Gaining her bearings, Laura slowly opened Derick's office door.