I had to write this chapter which means I've run out of the chapters I had stored up. Hoping it'll be okay though because I'm off work Wednesday and Thursday. We're in the final stretch, there's a few more bumps in the road but we're heading towards the ending - it's maybe not the most exciting of chapters but it's a necessary bit of calm before the rising storm.

Music blared across the apartment when Maura opened the front door. She stood for a moment in the doorway, observing Chelsea who was dancing around the kitchen baking. She breathed slowly, desperate to find some sense of calm. But she had a purse full of money, her gun and a handful of packets of drugs and she knew it was a bad time to be arriving home.

"Err, hello," Maura said.

Chelsea dropped her spoon into a glass bowl full of mixture and turned suddenly. Her eyebrows tugged together as she honed in on Maura's presence.

"You're home." She sighed. Her lips curved slightly. "Thought you'd vanished."

"I had work," Maura said, clutching her purse.

Chelsea's eyes landed on her hands wrapped around the leather material. "Work. Is that what we're calling it now?"

"It's what I have always called it."

She stirred the mixture in the bowl a couple of times. "I need to get this in the oven. But maybe in thirty minutes once I'm done, we can…talk."

Maura opened her eyes wide and stared at Chelsea. "You want to talk?" With the briefest nod, Chelsea resumed her baking and Maura scurried off to her bedroom to deposit her contraband. She stripped down and put on her yoga gear then sat on the end of the bed and listened to Chelsea singing loudly at the top of her lungs.

She grabbed her yoga mat from under her bed and rolled it across the floor. Even without the distraction of the music, Maura couldn't concentrate. She stared down at the mat as her leg muscles stretched out and all she could think about was the horrible conversation that was about to follow.

Forty minutes later, there was a knock on the bedroom door. Maura jumped up from the mat and swung open the door to find Chelsea standing on the other side with a muffin on a plate.

"It should really be you providing the peace offering, but I wanted you to know that I'm open to whatever it is you have to say."

She took the plate and stepped out into the living room. She took a seat on the couch as Chelsea sat on the chair opposite. They stared at each other for a moment. Maura busied herself with her muffin and took a bite of warm blueberry muffin.

She let out the smallest moan of delight. "You always were an amazing baker."

"I have questions."

"I'll answer almost anything you have to ask," Maura said, placing the muffin on the table and curling up on the couch. The baked goods settled her nerves, and she found the familiarity of contact between them take over. "I draw the line at identities because there's people who do not deserve to suffer because you found out about me."

"Like Jane?" Maura narrowed her eyes. "Sorry. I shouldn't…"

"I met Jane because of my father but it's not as simple as her working for him."

"So, she does work for him?"

Maura took a moment to consider her words. "Jane is a police officer. That's all you need to know."

"Wait, she's a cop?" Chelsea asked, sitting forward, her arms wrapped around a pillow.

"Didn't you know?"

"No."

Maura sighed. "It's complicated, the less you know about Jane, the better."

"Okay." Chelsea pushed the pillow against her lap. "Why do you have a gun? I thought you hated them."

"My father requested I carry it with me when I'm out. There's been some problems with rivalry in the area and if I don't have personal protection then he will hire somebody to follow me. It was a decision I had to make to protect my privacy."

"Do you want to carry a gun?"

"No."

"Have you ever used it?"

Detective Bucks' eyes flashed into her mind. The original lifeless expression merged into the images of her nightmares. "I have never chosen to use it."

"Are you really studying pre-med or is that part of this made up life?"

"I really am. I want to become a doctor. My father won't allow it, but I can continue my classes until I complete the requirements."

"Are you really my friend or is that all made up too?"

Standing up, Maura sat down on the table opposite Chelsea. She grabbed her hand, tugging it towards her until she could cover it with both hands. "You are the only reason why I have kept all of this from you."

"That literally makes no sense."

"It does. My father is a dangerous man. I don't want you involved in that life. You deserve better. You have better. If I told you before now, if you knew, then I dreaded to think what my father might do."

Chelsea snatched her hand back. She scrunched up her face and sighed. "What does that even mean?"

"It means that after today we can't talk about this again. You have to go on pretending that you don't know. If I could go back and tell you not to tell Alex…"

"I haven't."

"Oh."

"You thought I would?"

"Of course."

"I'm not stupid, Maura. I know how powerful he is. It didn't take you telling me to understand that there's a reason I didn't know." Chelsea patted her hand against Maura's knee. "None of this stops me from worrying."

"I know, and I'm so sorry that you've had to become caught up in this. I will do everything in my power to ensure that my father doesn't know about this, and that you're protected. Even if I have to…to…" She closed her eyes and focused on her breathing. "I will do anything because you matter more to me than anyone."

Chelsea twisted her lips up in a smirk. "Even Jane?"

She slapped her playfully on the leg. "Yes, even Jane. As much as I love her, I don't know what's going to happen with her. But you? You and me are best friends, alright? I will protect you in every way I can."

Chelsea shrugged. "I'm still angry."

"I know."

"But I'm not going to stay out of the apartment anymore."

"Good."

"This doesn't mean I forgive you."

"I wouldn't expect it to."

"Those nightmares you've been having…"

"I don't want to talk about them."

"Okay." Chelsea picked up the plate with the half eaten muffin on it and handed it to Maura. "Are you gonna finish this or is it not as good as you were making out?"

Maura rolled her eyes and took the plate, stuffing the rest of the muffin into her open mouth. Muffled, she said "It's amazing. I want six more."

"I only had enough mixture for six, and I already ate one. You can have the other four, though."

"Thank you," Maura said, reaching forward and pulling Chelsea into her arms. They sat there for a while, arm in arm, as they took the necessary steps to recovering their relationship. Maura cupped her cheeks and kissed her on the nose. "I still love you."

"I guess I still love you too."

X

The outstretched hand was discoloured, the skin flaking, and there was a distinctive smell that turned Maura's stomach. She stared past the fingers towards the eyes, so lifeless as Detective Bucks stared back at her.

"Murderer," he said, his voice monotonous as his words echoed across the room.

His hand touched her cheek and she flinched, jumping back and away. She turned and fled the room, rushing through the open doorway and out into the home she'd grown up in. She twisted around for a moment until whispered voices pulled her attention away. She scurried under a small table, surprised herself that she was small enough to fit.

"I told you to leave."

She recognised her father's voice anywhere. Footsteps reverberated across the wooden floor. She peered over the edge of the table and there he was, his hair a couple of shades lighter, his eyes contorted. The vein on his forehead pulsed with speed.

"I told you to leave us the fuck alone."

"I can't. She's my daughter."

The woman's voice was familiar, yet alien. She searched her brain for some semblance of recollection but all she could pull up was another recent nightmare.

"She's not your daughter, she's my daughter. You relinquished the right to be her parent."

"You made me."

"I persuaded you to do the right thing."

Maura glanced around the table. The woman's face was so familiar to her, but the memory merged into her subconscious until all she could remember was a feeling. She stepped forward, her sad eyes searching Paddy Doyle's. Maura crawled across the floor towards her.

"You forced me, you're a bully and I didn't want to give her up."

The sound of skin colliding with skin filled the air. Maura cowered back under the table and covered her ears. She didn't want to listen anymore. But somehow the sound was louder than ever. She could hear the woman sobbing, could hear the cock of a gun, then the sound of gunfire rang out.

She screamed.

The bedsheets were tangled around her, soaked in sweat and tight against her skin. She tried to calm down, but her chest rose and fell so fast it felt like her heart was about to beat its way out of her chest. She didn't realise she was still screaming until the bedroom door banged open and Chelsea rushed to her side.

"What happened? Are you alright?" Maura shook her head, words lost in the pain of her nightmare, her body exhausted by the memories. Chelsea climbed into the bed beside her and pulled her close. She sobbed against her shoulder. "It's okay. You're okay. I'm here. I'm not going anywhere."

X

Paddy Doyle was sitting in the yard when Maura arrived. She walked through the living room, springing to life the nightmare still seared on her brain. She took a quick walk around, trying to pull from her mind any memories she couldn't quite reach. When her attempts failed, she trawled across the lawn towards her father. He sat in silence reading a book about herb gardens when she took a seat beside him.

"Oh, Maura," he said, closing the book, his thumb holding his place. "I didn't realise you were here."

"I needed to speak with you." He took out a bookmark and rested the book on a small table beside an empty glass. He clasped his hands in front of his stomach and waited. "It's about…well…I wanted to…"

"I don't have all day, Maura," he said, narrowing his eyes. "I have thirty minutes before I'm expected at the office. Make it quick."

"I had a dream last night." She sat forward, her purse on her lap. She clutched the leather and wondered if her father would know that she had forgotten to bring the gun. "I wanted to ask you about my mother."

He cleared his throat and sat upright. "Your mother?"

"I want to know what happened to her."

"You know what happened, Maura," he said, raising his eyebrows. "She died when you were small."

"In my dream you shot her."

He scoffed, and the laughter continued for a moment. Maura stayed silent. He gripped her hand. "It was a dream, my darling. Just a dream."

"It felt so real."

He gave her hand a squeeze. "Tell me what happened, in the dream."

"Detective Bucks…"

"I see."

"What do you see?" she asked, the feelings flooded back.

"You've been thinking about what happened and your brain is manifesting wild ideas about your mother's untimely demise."

"Don't you want to hear the rest?" He waved his hand and she continued. "After I ran into the house I hid under the table by the couch and you came in, your voices were raised. She was telling you that she didn't want to give me up."

"Nonsense," he said, rolling his eyes. "It's all nonsense. A dream is merely a dream, Maura. You're manifesting what you wish had happened."

She took a moment to steady her breath. "Why would I want my father to have murdered my mother?"

"You want your mother to be innocent, to be a wonderful person who didn't want to give you up. You don't want to believe that she could have been so callous. The only way you can believe her to be the nice one is to believe that I'm the horrible parent, the one who pushed her away and killed her."

"But…"

"You know what happened, Maura. Your mother abandoned you on my doorstep when you were merely hours old. Two years later she was sick, and she died in hospital."

"I want to visit her grave site."

"She doesn't have one."

"Why doesn't she have one?"

"Her family were from North Carolina. Her parents took her body back there to be buried in a family plot."

"Then she has a grave site."

"Yes. But I can't tell you how to find it. If you think I am a difficult person, you don't want to get yourself embroiled in the life of her family. They are not good people, Maura, and they have done their darndest to keep you and I out of their lives."

"Aren't they good people? Or are you projecting?"

"Don't be so ridiculous, Maura." He shook his head. "You are the one projecting. You had a nightmare; you can't expect me to confirm the truth in something that never even happened. What goes on inside your head is no matter for me." He stood up. "Now, if you don't mind, Benny is expecting me."