Andre padded out into the still dark hallway, led by the growling in his stomach. He didn't need to be up for another couple of hours, but his hunger had a tendency of outweighing his better logic.
He lazily wiped the sleep from his eyes as he held back a yawn, slowly making his way down into the kitchen. He didn't bother to turn on the overhead lights as he headed straight for the remains of the red velvet cupcakes Michonne had made for dessert the night before.
Despite his lethargy, he had enough wherewithal to keep the noise down to a minimum. He knew from experience it didn't take much noise to enact a domino effect throughout the rest of the house.
He had been the starting point of a similar ruckus on more than one occasion, more often than not caused by his overactive appetite.
So, he quietly lifted the glass dome covering and carefully set it aside before taking a pastry for himself.
Satisfied for the moment, he gently eased the dome back over the serving dish then wandered out of the kitchen, intending to enjoy his snack while taking the long route back upstairs.
But as he passed through the family room, car lights outside the bay windows caught his attention.
Curious, he took another bite and pushed the sheer curtain aside to inspect further.
He was barely able to make out what looked like a person's silhouette across the street. A man quietly struggling to load a large container onto the back of an idle truck.
Andre was so caught up in spying that he didn't register the sound of footsteps coming his way until he heard his name whispered in the dark.
"Dre?"
With a mouthful of dessert, Andre turned around to meet Rick's wary gaze.
Andre swallowed and offered his trademark grin. "Hey Pop," he said casually, then returned his attention to the window.
Rick tilted his head as he neared him. "What are you doing?"
"People watching," Andre replied simply, nodding his head out of the window.
Rick's expression was one of skepticism. "At five in the morning?"
Andre nodded again, moving aside a little for Rick to see through the curtain as well.
The last thing Rick expected to see was Pete Anderson breaking a sweat while packing up his truck in early morning hours.
"Think they're moving already?" Andre asked.
"Who knows," Rick sighed, pulling the curtain closed as he turned back to the teenager. "Cupcakes, really?"
Andre casually shrugged his shoulders. "I was hungry."
Rick chuckled despite himself. "Of course you were," he said, steering him around towards the stairs. "Back to bed with you."
"Where are you going?" Andre turned to ask when he noticed Rick wasn't coming up with him.
"For a run," Rick told him, plugging in his airpods as he started for the front door.
"At five in the morning?"
Rick exhaled a laugh at having his own question thrown back at him. "I have a busy day ahead. Wanna join me?"
"Have a nice run," Andre hurried to say as he quickly and quietly retreated back up the staircase before his stepfather could change his mind.
Rick smirked to himself, figuring that would be his response.
He opened his front door just in time to see Pete drive off down the street with his truck load secured.
Unwilling to give the odd situation much more thought, Rick started up his playlist and began to jog, heading in the opposite direction of his neighbor as he left the cul-de-sac.
That morning, Jesse bounded down the steps a little lighter than usual. It was a big day, and her excitement reflected as much in her movements.
She had to do something that would change her life forever. But it wasn't until yesterday that she committed herself to the plan.
For once, she was grateful that Pete had sequestered himself to the basement. Given what she had to consider, she wasn't sure how she would react around him.
Michonne's invitation changed everything. Not only did it provide her with a convenient alibi, but also clarity around her future.
Nearly her entire adult life revolved around the needs of her family. She had willingly buried herself in motherhood for the sake of her children, ignoring every other red flag that accompanied her sham of a marriage for the sake of peace in her household.
She now realized the sacrifices she had made in an attempt at a happy life were to her own detriment. And now she was drowning because of the choices she had made in pursuit of it.
But, thankfully, she had been extended a life raft and she would use it to reclaim her life.
"I'm going out tonight," she announced brightly as she entered the kitchen.
Her excitement was met with a lackluster response from her boys seated at the island counter. Ron didn't bother to lift his eyes from his phone, while Sam was intently focused on picking apart a pop-tart.
"Cool, Mom. Hope you have fun," she imitated, waving her arms in exaggeration as she neared them.
Sam looked up at her with his eyebrows knitted together. "Have fun doing what?" he asked, just noticing her presence.
She sighed, dropping her shoulders. "I said, I'm going out tonight," she repeated, smiling to herself. "For the first time in forever."
"With Dad?" he asked, sounding almost hopeful.
She paused, then shook her head once. "No," she murmured, turning away from them to start the coffee maker. "Just some friends."
Sam frowned at her back. "Who's going to make us dinner?" he pressed.
Ron snorted softly beside him, the only indication that he was paying the slightest attention to them.
Jesse ignored him, making her way over to open the freezer door. "There's a frozen pizza in here, someone just needs to put it in the oven," she said, "you guys can manage that, can't you?"
Sam turned to Ron, who only sighed in return. "We'll manage," he said to his younger brother, "like we always do."
Then, he reached down to retrieve his backpack from the floor and slung it over his shoulder before heading out of the room.
Jesse raised an eyebrow at his tone. "Everything okay?" she asked, tilting her head to consider him.
"Fine," Ron muttered without turning.
Jesse followed him with her gaze, wondering if it was a good idea to press him further, but her cell phone chimed in her back pocket before she had the chance.
Recognizing the number as Sam's school, she answered right away. "Hello?"
"Mrs. Anderson, it's Principal Stokes. I hope I haven't caught you at a bad time."
"No, not all," she assured him. "How can I help you?"
"Are you free to swing by my office this morning? There's something we need to discuss regarding your son, Sam."
Jesse frowned, turning back to face Sam who was completely oblivious to her phone call.
"Is everything all right?" she asked.
Principal Stokes hesitated. "It would be best if we spoke in person."
His tone worried her, but in the end she conceded. "Okay, I'll be there soon. Say twenty minutes?"
"Sounds good. See you then."
Jesse disconnected the call as she approached her youngest son.
"Sam?"
"Yeah?" he returned as he continued to pick at the mess of crumbs and strawberry jam before him.
She tilted her head to catch his eye. "Any idea why your principal wants to have a parent-teacher conference this morning?"
He didn't respond right away as he studiously avoided her gaze.
"Sam?" she asked again, nearing him.
He shrugged his shoulders. "I don't know."
Jesse sighed as she returned her phone to her pocket. She had planned to spend the day prepping for her big night, but it looked like her plans were to be delayed a little bit.
"Well, I might as well drop you off," she said, then nodded at the mess he made. "Clean this up, and go get your stuff."
She started out of the kitchen to ask Ron if he wanted a ride as well, but stopped short before she could find him.
Her eyes widened in disbelief at the open basement door in front of her.
Suddenly skittish, she looked around in confusion. She had assumed Pete was at the hospital since his truck wasn't in the driveway, but he had never left the basement unlocked let alone sitting wide open.
She took a tentative step closer towards the one room in her house she had never been inside. Her feet felt like they were cemented to the ground as she peered down into the darkness.
"Hello?" she called out, almost nervously.
When she didn't get a response, she reached for her cell phone and turned on its flashlight. Her heartbeat pounded in her ears as she started down the steps, unsure of what she would find down there.
Half-way down, she shone her light across the space. A small gasp escaped her when she realized the room was completely bare.
Suddenly the overhead light turned on, flooding the room.
Jesse jumped in surprise, feeling as though she had just gotten caught. She exhaled a sigh of relief when she saw it was only Ron.
He raised a questioning eyebrow at her. "What are you doing?"
"Nothing," she returned a little too quickly.
Ron didn't believe her, but he also didn't care enough to question her further. "Sam's looking for you," he said, turning to head back up the stairs.
Jesse barely heard him as she struggled to process the empty space before her and what it could mean. Knowing she didn't have the time to investigate at the moment, she slowly backed up the stairs.
"Where's your father?" she asked as she approached her sons in the foyer.
"He left out earlier," Sam supplied.
Jesse frowned, looking back over her shoulder at the open basement door. "Did he say where he was going?"
"Does he ever?" Ron scoffed as he left the house.
"Hey, do you want a ride?" Jesse called after him, "I'm dropping Sam off today."
"No, I'm good," he called back, hopping on his skateboard to coast down the driveway.
"We're gonna be late," Sam said to her as he stepped outside.
Jesse absently reached for her car keys and purse from the console beside the door. Her eyes lingered on the basement for a moment before she forced her gaze away and followed Sam out of the house.
"What do you have for us, Siddiq?" Carol asked in lieu of a greeting as she and Rosita entered the crime lab.
They had spent hours scouring the crime scene where their cadaver was found. But, when they got the call that the autopsy was completed, they made a beeline back to the precinct for the results.
Siddiq turned away from his computer, his expression grim. "The blood work is a match for our missing victim," he explained right off the bat.
Carol exchanged a look with her partner. Unfortunately, they had both anticipated as much.
"What else have you learned?" Rosita asked, hoping it was something useful.
Siddiq stood from his seat, pulling on a pair of latex gloves as he ventured over to the examination table. Carol and Rosita followed behind him.
"What you see is just the beginning," he explained, pointing towards the incision that lined the abdomen. "She underwent invasive procedures before the amputations."
Carol lifted her eyes from the remains to look at him, curiously. "Meaning?"
Siddiq exhaled and made an invisible line following the path of stitches he had removed for the autopsy. "When I opened her up I noticed the reproductive organs were already removed."
Carol narrowed her eyes on the stitching. "That's out of the ordinary from the other cases we thought were connected," she mused, mostly to herself.
"It's still kidnap and murder," Rosita reasoned, looking up at her partner. "Although, the butchering is new. It's not unheard of for serial killers to up the ante if they've gotten bored with their usual methods."
"There's something else," Siddiq mentioned, retrieving an iPad from the counter behind him containing the biochemical results of the autopsy. He handed the device over to Carol for her to review. "I found traces of anesthesia in her bloodwork," he explained, "just enough to block neuro-functionality."
"Enough to immobilize her," Carol surmised.
Siddiq nodded. "It's likely that she was cognizant during the invasive procedures given by levels I found in her system, and eventually suffered cardiac arrest."
Rosita's eyes widened in horror. "You mean this sick fuck cut into her while she was awake?"
Siddiq's features were bleak as he nodded.
"And the amputations?" Carol asked, handing the iPad over to Rosita.
"Post mortem," he confirmed, "and done in a much quicker hurry than the other procedures."
Rosita frowned at that, then looked over at Carol, noticing her contemplative expression. "What are you thinking?"
"That this was personal," she answered. "Removing the reproductive organs is a message of some kind."
"Andrea's sister said that she was pregnant before," Rosita added.
Carol nodded. "Yeah, and Blake denies any knowledge of that."
"You think he's lying, don't you?"
Carol shrugged. "What politician doesn't?" she countered. "Either way, I think it's worth questioning him again. This time on our playing field."
"Philip Blake is many things, but I don't think a surgeon is one of them," Siddiq inserted. "These procedures were done by a professional hand."
"Maybe he's working with someone," Rosita speculated. "If we bring him in I can't see him taking the fall alone."
"Look into Blake's public schedule for today. I want to bring him in as soon as possible," Carol instructed as her cell phone began to ring. She sighed heavily as she read the name on the caller I.D. "It's the Holdens'," she murmured, knowing it was only a matter of time before they reached out.
While there hadn't been an official statement made by the department, the heavy APD presence on the hunting trails just outside of Atlanta was ripe for speculation. Knowing that she couldn't avoid the family, they deserved to know the truth.
"I'll handle this. Find out what you can on Blake," she said to Rosita before answering the call.
Rosita nodded, silently grateful not to be a part of that conversation, as Carol made her way out of the lab to break the devastating news to the family in private.
"Good morning. How can I help you?"
Jesse smiled politely at the administrator in the front office. "My name is Jesse Anderson. Principal Stokes asked me to meet with him this morning."
The woman's expression made a subtle change that Jesse couldn't place as she stood from behind the desk to guide her and Sam further inside the suite.
"They've been waiting for you," was all she said as she opened the principal's office door, stepping aside to allow them through.
Jesse knitted her brows together in confusion when she saw her neighbors - Abraham and Ellen Ford along with their son, Bram, sitting opposite of Principal Stokes, and Ms. Olivia.
"What's going on?" Jesse asked, exhaling a nervous laugh.
"Please have a seat, Mrs. Anderson," Principal Stokes offered, gesturing towards the two remaining seats in the office.
Jesse slowly eased down into the chair, and nodded for Sam to sit down as well.
She looked over at Ellen and attempted to offer a smile but Ellen studiously avoided her gaze, keeping her eyes trained ahead.
Principal Stokes cleared his throat bringing the focus back onto him. "The reason I asked you here this morning was because of a serious offense we believe Sam to be responsible for."
Jesse frowned and glanced at Sam, who was now also avoiding her eyes. "I don't understand. What offense?"
"He apparently broke into young Bram's locker and left an unpleasant surprise for him."
Abraham scoffed loudly. "That's one way to describe it."
Jesse turned to Sam, concerned. "What are they talking about?" she asked him directly.
Sam shrugged his shoulders. "I don't know."
"Yes, you do, you freak!" Bram shot back angrily.
Ellen shot her son a stern look. "You may not be at fault here, young man, but you will not resort to name-calling," she snapped.
Bram knew better than to argue with his mother, so he sulked back in his chair leaving the rest of the discussion to the adults to deal with.
"I'm sorry, I'm not understanding what's going on here," Jesse said, slightly panicked by the mood in the room.
"Sam left what I can only describe as mutilated roadkill in Bram's locker," Ms. Olivia explained with a slight shudder. "It had been dead for a while."
"What?" Jesse pulled back, confused. "Why would you think Sam would do something like that?"
"We looked at the hallway camera footage to find the culprit," Principal Stokes explained calmly, "there was no disputing it after that."
Jesse felt mortified at what they were telling her. She didn't dare look back over at the Fords', unable to find the words to say them.
"As I said, Mrs. Anderson, this is a serious offense."
Jesse slowly shook her head as she turned to Sam. "Is this true?"
Sam shrugged with his eyes glued to the floor.
"Sam," Jesse said, more urgently this time.
Sam lifted his eyes to her, his cheeks burning red. "You're the one who told me I needed to make friends!" he nearly shouted in defense of himself.
"Well, now I have heard everything," Abraham muttered.
"Abraham," Ellen whispered, chastising him.
"I'm sorry, El, but I'm with the boy on this one," he said, clamping a hand down on Bram's shoulder as he turned back to Principal Stokes, "What's your plan to make sure this doesn't happen again?"
"We're getting to that Mr. Ford," Principal Stokes assured him, then he turned to Jesse. "As I am sure you can understand, this entire ordeal puts us in a very precarious situation."
Jesse, stunned into silence, could nod her head.
Principal Stokes then looked at Sam and addressed him directly. "I have a couple of questions for you, Sam, and I want you to think carefully about how you answer. Do you understand?"
Sam jerked his head in a nod, returning his eyes to the ground.
"Why would you put an animal's dead body in your classmate's locker?"
Sam shrugged.
"Sam, you need to be honest," Ms. Olivia urged him gently.
Sam chanced a glance around the room and found that everyone's eyes were on him. He hunched over into himself. "I don't know, okay!" he cried out.
Jesse's motherly instincts kicked in despite herself, and she leaned protectively over him to gently rub back. "Oh, Sam."
"It is the exact opposite of okay," Abraham barked, standing from his seat. "Either the boy knows right from wrong or he doesn't. Regardless, I don't want him in the same class as my son moving forward from this shitshow."
"Language, Abraham," Ellen sighed, tiredly. Even though, she was inclined to agree with him at this point.
"Thank you Mr. and Mrs. Ford, we'll take it from here. And, I can assure you that we will be looking into a more suitable learning environment for Sam moving forward," Principal Stokes assured the pair, thinking it better if the conversation continued without them being present.
"I should hope so," Abraham muttered as he started for the door and Bram quickly hopped up to follow after his father.
"Ellen, I am so sorry about all of this," Jesse said, unable to think of anything that would smooth over the gravity of the situation.
Ellen looked at Jesse for the first since she walked into the room. "I am, too," she said, then stood to follow her husband and son out of the office.
With the Fords' gone, the tension in the room didn't decrease, in fact it became even more stifling.
"So...w-what do we do now?" Jesse asked, slowly turning to face Principal Stokes and Ms. Olivia.
Principal Stokes exhaled as he leaned back in his head. "I'm afraid Mr. Ford is right. Either Sam was fully aware of his actions or he truly does not understand the difference between what's right and what's wrong."
Jesse bit down on her lower, anxious about what he was going to say next.
"Our school's policy mandates a psychological evaluation be the next step for Sam. He'll be removed from Ms. Olivia's class, and once we have the results of the evaluation we'll be able to determine the next best step, whether that be here or at a more capable institution."
As Principal Stokes explained this to her, Jesse couldn't help but feel like she was suddenly drowning again.
She couldn't wrap her head around Sam's actions, and especially his logic behind them. A small voice in her head whispered a truth she wasn't ready or willing to accept, and she rejected the thought immediately for her own sanity.
Then, there was Ellen.
There was absolutely no way she could face her or any of the other ladies later that night. She doubted she would even be welcomed once Ellen related to them what had just transpired in the principal's office.
By the end of the meeting, Jesse was nearly in tears. Sam was suspended until the results of his psychological evaluation, but even then he wouldn't be guaranteed reentry into a normal classroom.
What that meant for his future, she was sure just yet. She just wished she didn't deal with it alone.
Carl absently drummed his fingers on top of his binder as he patiently waited for the mid-day bell to sound.
He cut out of Calculus a few minutes early, hoping to catch Enid on her way out of her French class, but he was feeling anxious. Usually he'd meet up with her in the cafeteria before the first bell rang, but that morning she was nowhere to be found.
Thinking nothing of it at the time, he figured he would see her at some point like he typically did and he sent her a joking text about how she stood him up again.
But the text went unanswered, not even a read receipt.
By lunchtime, Carl was worried. So, he made up a quick excuse and ducked out of his own class to hopefully catch Enid coming out hers.
When the bell sounded, the hallways immediately filled with his peers. He stood up straighter as the door beside him flew open and students filed out.
Carl waited but did not see Enid in the crowd. However, he did see Ron and pushed off the lockers to catch up with him.
"Hey man," he called as he neared.
Ron didn't hear him, and Carl realized it was because his earbuds were plugged in. So, he quickened his pace to jog backwards in front him.
"Hey," he said again when Ron looked up in surprise.
"What's going on," he returned, removing his earbuds as Carl fell in step beside him.
"Was Enid in class today?"
"I haven't seen her," Ron muttered, shaking his head.
Carl frowned at that because he was sure he saw her in school earlier that morning. "She skipped class?"
Ron shrugged dismissively. "I guess, maybe."
"Didn't you guys study together for a quiz today?" Carl pressed, knowing how serious Enid took her education. She would never intentionally miss a class, especially when a quiz was being given.
"I dunno know what to tell you, man, she wasn't there," Ron told him, reaching for his earbuds again, "I gotta go."
Carl watched him rush off in confusion. The feeling that something was off there was growing by the minute.
He reached for his phone to send another text to Enid, adding to the thread of unanswered messages starting from the night before. Then, dropped his head back in frustration as he sulked down to his next class.
Pete pulled into a shaded area on the far end of a corporate high-rise parking lot. He cut the engine and assessed the view from his vantage point, pleased with its obscurity.
He watched behind the lens of his dark sunglasses as business professionals filtered in and out of the building, none of them so much as glancing in his direction. With keen eyes he kept vigilant, waiting for the one person he was there to see.
His intention was reconnaissance. Admittedly, he was out of practice, but he had learned from his previous mistakes and now he knew what he needed to do to avoid unnecessary attention.
It would require a certain amount of patience on his part, a virtue he was more than a little unfamiliar with. But, he considered himself up to the task.
The vibration of his cell phone from the passenger's seat beside him broke his concentration. He glanced down, thinking it may have been Spencer calling again to find out why he wasn't at the hospital for his shift. Instead it was Jesse.
He scoffed under his breath and let the call go to voicemail.
His wife was the last person he wanted to talk to. As far as he was concerned, the woman was lucky to still be alive.
He knew she had spoken to Milton Mamet, and that she had brokered a deal with the conniving bastard.
Little did she know, he had watched the entire transaction take place through the home security app on his cell phone.
In a way, Pete was relieved because now he didn't have to feel bad about leaving behind the family he never wanted to begin with. Not with the knowledge of what Jesse was planning to do behind his back.
His cell phone vibrated again, but this time he snatched up the device to turn it off before carelessly tossing it onto the cabin floor.
Whatever the reason for Jesse's incessant calling, she would need to figure it out on her own. He had no more patience to exercise when it came to his farcical marriage.
Instead, he refocused his attention on the office building just in time for his diligence to be rewarded.
He checked his wristwatch, and reached inside the glove compartment with his free hand to retrieve the pocket notepad he stored there. Then, he removed the pen attached to the cover and flipped through his previous notes to a free space where he scribbled down the time.
The most recent entry in a series of carefully outlined entries. He figured, once he understood the routine, it would be easy to find the most opportune moment to take what wanted without raising any suspicions.
This time, he would get it right.
"You've got to be kidding," Maggie blurted out, looking back at Michonne in shock.
Michonne shook her head ruefully as she pushed out of their office lobby into the bright afternoon sun. "I wish I was."
"Wait, wasn't Sam the kid that had the episode at the cookout?" Maggie pressed, following her out.
"That's why I don't blame Ellen for wanting to keep her distance," Michonne told her.
The behavior Jesse's youngest son had exhibited the week prior was one of the first things to come to mind when Ellen had called her to tell her what occurred that morning.
"Have you spoken to Jesse?" Maggie asked curiously as the two of them made their way towards the food trucks stationed in the center of the business parking lot, and lined up in their favorite's queue.
Michonne sighed. "She sent me a text saying she couldn't make it."
"Well, that's less awkward," Maggie allowed.
"You must have forgotten that the Andersons' are our neighbors," Michonne returned with an eye roll.
Maggie inwardly cringed. "Best to leave well enough alone, then," she said, then stepped forward as it was their turn next in line.
While she relayed their orders to the cashier, Michonne paused, feeling a chill run down her spine.
She turned to look around the business park, but nothing appeared out of the ordinary. Yet the feeling remained. An inexplicable sensation recurring too much for her liking lately.
She continued to scan the area, searching for something to justify the feeling of dread she couldn't tamp down but saw nothing that would.
"I ordered your usual," Maggie told her as she rejoined her side.
Michonne jumped slightly at the sound of her voice, turning to her in surprise.
"It's not like you to be jumpy," Maggie teased. "You okay?"
"Yeah," Michonne murmured, waving a dismissive hand as she tried to relax herself. "I'm fine."
Maggie's phone chimed with a call just then, and Michonne was grateful that she wouldn't have to explain her unfounded behavior further.
"Why hello, Dr. Rhee," Maggie answered with a smile, but her expression wilted moments later. "Seriously?" she muttered, causing Michonne to look at her confusion. "Yeah, yeah. Okay. See you later."
As she disconnected the line, Michonne arched a questioning eyebrow. "What was that about?"
"What is it with those Andersons'?" Maggie muttered in frustration. "Glenn has to stay late at the hospital because Pete called out of his shift, again. And since Daddy isn't back from Florida that means we don't have a babysitter for the kids tonight."
"You could bring them to our place," Michonne offered.
Maggie hesitated. "Rick already has his hands full, I'm sure."
"Daryl's likely to be there, they'll be fine," Michonne assured her.
Maggie hugged her sideways, sighing in relief. "Thank goodness. You guys are a lifesaver."
"It's for selfish reasons, trust me," Michonne returned with a small grin. "Rick doesn't even know I volunteered him yet."
"Like he'll say no to you," Maggie laughed, letting go of her to retrieve their lunch orders.
Michonne knew he wouldn't, but besides that, she needed tonight just as much.
Her paranoia was getting the best of her lately, and a carefree night out was just what she needed to recalibrate herself.
Andre shrugged his scrimmage jersey over his head as he rounded the changing room lockers in search of his brother.
He eventually found him posted up against the locker room entry, still dressed in his school clothes as he scrolled through his phone.
"What are you doing?" Andre asked, scrunching his face in confusion. "We're gonna be late for practice."
Carl looked up from his phone as if he just realized where he was. Then, he shook his head. "I need you to cover for me."
Andre raised an eyebrow. "Why?"
"I need to take care of something," he said, distractedly.
"Bro," Andre sighed, shaking his head.
Carl pushed off the wall and shrugged on his backpack. "Just cover for me, okay?"
Before Andre could respond, Noah rounded the corner from the opposite side. "What are y'all doing? We're gonna be late."
"He's not coming," Andre told him in exasperation.
Noah frowned. "Why?"
"I have to take care of something," Carl repeated, brushing past Noah to exit the locker room.
Noah shot Andre a questioning look, but Andre only shrugged as he turned to head out towards the field.
Meanwhile, Carl headed out to the front of the school, and hopped into his waiting Uber.
He was grateful not to be saddled with a talkative driver, and plugged in his Airpods and scrolled through his unanswered text thread for the nth time that day.
He tried calling Enid again, but it went straight to voicemail. In all the years they had been friends, he had never heard her answering machine so much.
It took a little over ten minutes for him to arrive at her house. When he did, the first thing he noticed was her bike left discarded at the edge of the driveway.
He picked it up and pushed it to its usual place beside the garage. Then, he proceeded to the front door and knocked twice.
Enid's grandmother, Sara, answered the door soon after.
"Hello Carl," she said, greeting him with a sweet smile.
Carl returned the expression as best he could. Although, he was somewhat assuaged by the older woman's calm demeanor, thinking maybe nothing bad had happened after all.
"Hello," he returned, politely, "Is Enid home?"
Sara's smile wilted only slightly. "I'm afraid she's not feeling well, but I'll tell her to call you when she's better."
Carl felt a little deflated upon hearing that. "She left school early today. I just wanted to make sure she's okay," he admitted to her.
"That's so nice of you," Sara said, smiling at his thoughtfulness. "I'll be sure to tell her you stopped by."
Realizing there was nothing more he could do here, Carl nodded and took a step back. "Thank you."
Sara watched as Carl dejectedly started back down the driveway, feeling pity for him.
As she closed the front door, she glanced over at her granddaughter standing just behind it.
"I don't like lying, Enid," Sara said to her.
"You weren't," Enid replied, pushing off the door to head back upstairs.
Sara frowned, following her with her eyes. "I really wish you would tell me what's bothering you. You aren't acting like yourself."
"I'm fine, Grandma," she lied, then started up the stairs to the solitude of her room.
When she opened the door, however, she nearly jumped out of her skin when she saw Carl sitting on her window ledge.
"Jesus!" she hissed, and hurried to close her door behind her.
"No, just me," Carl returned with a grin.
Enid shot him a dark look. "What are you doing here?"
"You haven't been answering any of my calls or texts," he countered, hopping down from the ledge.
"That doesn't give you the right to just sneak into my room," she whispered harshly in return.
Carl drew his eyebrows together, confused by her anger. It's not like he hasn't done this a hundred times before. "I was worried about you," he said, hating how pitiful he sounded to his own ears.
Enid tossed her arms out at her sides. "Well, as you can see, I'm fine."
"Then, why'd you ditch school?" he asked, not buying it.
"Carl," she sighed, dropping down onto her unmade bed. "Please just go."
He shook his head, taking a step closer to her. "Not until you tell me what's going on with you."
Enid wiped her face as she sniffled. "I just needed a break."
"A break from what?" he asked, frowning, "You were fine yesterday."
"I just needed a break, okay?" she nearly shouted.
Carl's eyes darted towards the door.
Enid's grandparents were fond of him, but he didn't want to test that favor by being caught sneaking around her bedroom.
"Okay, I'm sorry," he quickly apologized. "It's just...you never really shut me out. Not like this."
Enid gingerly folded her arms over her chest, avoiding his gaze.
"Did something happen?" he asked, stooping down in front of her to catch her eye.
Enid was momentarily caught in his stare, until she quickly blinked and looked away.
"I just want to know how I can help," he told her, placing a hand on her knee.
Enid stood, forcing Carl to do the same. "There's nothing you can do. So, please go."
"Enid," he started, but she shook her head.
"I'll call you later," she said, if only to get him moving.
Carl wasn't sure he believed her in that moment, but conceded all the same. "Okay," he murmured, and started back towards the window.
Before he could climb back over the ledge, he looked back at her. "Oh, I almost forgot," he said, swinging his backpack over in front of him. "Madame Dupont said quizzes can't be made up, but you could take this for extra credit."
He reached inside his bag and pulled out a stapled packet, then he handed it over to her.
Enid accepted the packet, confused. "What?"
"You skipped before your quiz in French class. I know how you are about your grades so I figured I'd grab this for you." he explained with a shrug.
Enid accepted the packet wordlessly and Carl offered her a small smile.
"See you later," he said, then he climbed back over the ledge and carefully descended down the garden ladder.
Enid watched him go with a world of emotions swirling behind her dark eyes. Once he was out of sight, she pressed her back against the wall and slid down until she was huddled into herself, quietly crying into her knees.
Rick wandered into the master bedroom in search of his wife. He found her in the en suite, seemingly lost in thought as she stared blankly into the bathroom mirror.
Not wanting to startle her, he gently knocked on the open door, but despite his efforts, she still jumped a little at the sound.
"Sorry," he apologized as he neared her.
"Don't be," she returned, exhaling a sigh. "I've been off all day."
"Everything okay?" he asked, wrapping his arms around her as he focused on her reflection.
Michonne relaxed against him. "Yeah. I think I'm just a little tired."
"You sure you feel up to going out?" he asked softly.
She nodded. "I think I need it, it'll help me unwind."
Rick's grin was mischievous. "I can think of a few ways that won't even require you to leave the bedroom."
Michonne huffed a laugh. "I'm sure you can."
"The offer's there if you want it," he said before pressing his lips to the side of her forehead to gingerly kiss her there. "Maggie's downstairs, by the way," he whispered into her hair.
Michonne laughed a little and ducked from under his arms. "You could have led with that."
He shrugged as he followed her out of the room. "Just wanted you to know all your options."
"You ready to get this show on the road?" Maggie asked when they appeared at the top of the stairs.
Michonne nodded as she started down the steps. "As ready as I'll ever be," she returned, then looked around, noting how unusually quiet it was. "Where is everyone?"
"Judith lured the kids out back so we could sneak out unnoticed," Maggie told her.
"You better get a move on, then," Rick said, following his wife down into the foyer.
"Thanks for watching them," Maggie mentioned to him.
He shook his head, finding her gratitude unnecessary. "You know they're not any trouble," he replied easily.
Michonne smirked when he turned to her. "We'll be back in a couple of hours."
"But, Glenn will be here as soon as his shift's over," Maggie assured him.
Rick nodded as he escorted them both to the door. "Get out of here. Have fun," he said.
Maggie waved over her shoulder as she made her way back to her car. Michonne paused in the doorway, and turned to face her husband.
"Be good," he told her, wrapping his arms around her for a proper good-bye.
"I'll think about it," Michonne replied, leaning in to kiss him sweetly.
Rick smiled for her when she pulled back, then looked up across the street.
"Is Jesse riding with y'all?" he asked, nodding his head in that direction.
Michonne turned to see Jesse watching them forlornly as she retrieved her mail from the mailbox at the edge of her driveway. She lifted her hand to wave at the other woman, and Jesse hesitantly returned the gesture.
"Not this time," Michonne said, turning back to face him. When he raised a questioning eyebrow, she shook her head. "I'll explain later."
Shrugging it off, Rick pulled her to him once more. "Be safe."
"Always," she said.
He squeezed her hips before letting her go, then she started down to meet Maggie in their driveway.
He kept watch over them until Maggie's car pulled out of sight, and just as he was about to return inside he spotted his son ambling down the street.
Rick frowned, certain football practice wasn't over yet.
"Hey," Carl muttered as he approached.
Rick titled his head at his tone. "Everything okay?"
Carl kept his eyes drawn low. "Fine."
"Hold on a minute," Rick said, placing a hand on his shoulder before he could pass by.
Carl sighed and reluctantly turned around. "I just want to go up to my room."
"Okay, but first tell me why you're not at practice," he said, sensing something was bothering him.
"I have a migraine," Carl lied.
Rick eyed him for a minute, then gently squeezed his shoulder. "Grab an ice pack out of the freezer. If that doesn't help, I've got ibuprofen in my medicine cabinet."
"Thanks," he mumbled, making his way inside.
Rick exhaled as he closed the door behind them. Carl wasn't the typically moody teenager, but there were a few occurrences here and there. For now, he would allow the boy his space, but he made a mental note to check on him later.
In the meantime, he had a house full of other children that required his more immediate attention.
"Blake and his attorney are here," Rosita informed Carol as she approached her.
Carol looked up from the files scattered across her desk. "About time," she scoffed, pushing back in her chair to stand.
They crossed the precinct towards the interrogation hall, and stopped outside the door where Philip and his attorney were waiting. Rosita exhaled as she opened the door, allowing Carol to enter first.
Philip was scowling, but his lawyer was much more relaxed. Carol recognized the man as the same counsel Philip used during her previous investigation into him.
Negan Smith had made a reputation for himself as one of the best money could buy. He was as suave as he was conniving, with a pretty decent track record of getting white collars out of criminal situations.
Carol had always thought, if she never had another interaction with the man again it would be too soon.
Still, she plastered a smile on her face as she took a seat across from them. "Good afternoon, gentlemen."
"It will be, once you tell us why we're here so I can tell you why you're wrong," Negan returned just as pleasantly.
"The sooner the better," Philip bitterly inserted.
Rosita sucked her teeth as she posted up against the closed interrogation door.
Carol, unlike her partner, maintained a neutral expression. "We have some additional questions related to the Holden investigation that we're hoping you can clear up for us."
Philip's contempt was written all over his face. But Negan subtly raised a hand to intervene before he could say anything in return.
"My client has already told you everything he knows on the matter."
"I'm not so sure he did," Carol countered, placing the manila folder in her hands in the center of the table.
Philip frowned down at the photos but otherwise made no outward reaction to them.
Negan shook his head slightly, then asked Carol, "What's this?"
"Crime scene photos," she told him, opening the folder to lay out the explicit photographs, one by one. "We discovered what remains of Andrea Holden's body before dawn this morning."
"In other words, we're no longer investigating a kidnapping but a homicide," Rosita clarified, pushing off the wall to circle the room.
"This is absurd," Philip fumed, indignantly, "I had nothing to do with this."
Negan placed a placating hand on his shoulder while he addressed the detectives. "As we have told you many times, my client's relationship with the deceased ended years ago. It's a stretch to try and pin him for a murder on a decade old affair, even for the APD."
"It's not as much of a stretch as you might think," Carol told him with a shrug. "Your client is a political public figure on the rise, he wouldn't be the first to try and sweep his mistress under the rug."
"Or, in this case, murder and bury her body in the backwoods of Georgia," Rosita supplied evenly.
Philip's face twisted at the insinuation, but Negan intervened on his behalf before he could comment. "Where would he have even found the time to do something like this?" he proposed, gesturing towards the pictures spread out between them. "He's been on the campaign trail for weeks, almost everything he's done has been a matter of public record by default."
Carol nodded, indulgently. "That's why we're leaning towards one of two scenarios. Either you had an accomplice," she said, looking at Philip directly, "or someone is going out of their way to make this look bad for you."
"Contrary to what you may believe, I cared about Andrea," Philip told them, seemingly earnest.
"Then you should want us to find out who did this to her," Carol said to him.
"We know your relationship, albeit eight years, resulted in an extramarital pregnancy that you originally lied about," Rosita recounted, folding her arms over her chest, "Then, she returned to her family home in Boston only to relocate back to Atlanta a few weeks ago where she was subsequently kidnapped and murdered with her reproductive organs removed. Do you see where I'm going with this?"
"All I'm hearing is speculation," Negan said as a matter-of-factly. "So, unless you have any tangible evidence connecting my client to all of this, I think we're done here."
"Right now, your client is a primary person of interest in our investigation," Carol informed them, "So unless he's willing to cooperate, I don't see how this ends well."
Philip sighed heavily, annoyed with their exchange. "I haven't seen or spoken to Andrea since she moved back to Boston," he insisted.
"Let's start there," Carol pressed, "What was your last conversation like?"
Philip looked to his counsel, and Negan nodded. Then, Philip exhaled deeply before admitting, "She told me that she was pregnant," he said, "and that she didn't intend to keep it."
"So, why lie?" Rosita asked, resting her hands on the back of the empty chair beside her partner.
"Because, I knew how it would sound," he told her in exasperation.
"So, what?" Rosita started, narrowing her eyes. "She wanted an abortion, but you wanted raise a happy side family instead?"
"No," Philip replied, curtly. "I'm a pro-life advocate. I wanted to talk about a closed adoption, but she wouldn't hear it."
Rosita scoffed loudly, but Carol continued her inquisition. "What happened after that?"
"She left, and that was the last time I saw her."
Carol looked back at Rosita, then redirected her gaze back to Philip. "We had an eye witness state that you were overheard discussing Andrea's medical records with a doctor in your home office."
Philip paused, then exhaled a dry laugh. "I see you've been speaking with my sister-in-law."
"Is there any truth to it?" Rosita demanded, tired of the back-and-forth.
"I was discussing the in's and out's of the termination procedure with a friend for clarification," Philip said pointedly, "Andrea and I may have ended our relationship, but I still cared about her wellbeing."
"We're going to need the name of that friend to confirm your story," Carol told him.
"And, after that, can I assume we're done here?" Negan prompted.
Carol offered a small smile. "Your client is still a person of interest until we can confirm otherwise."
"Georgia's alibi laws still stands," Negan reminded her, "You tell us the TOD and we provide you with the whereabouts of my client during the time of the murder. That should be enough."
Carol maintained her expression as she stood. "We'll get right on that."
She nodded her head to Rosita, and the two of them exited the interrogation room.
"What do you think?" Carol asked her, once they were in the hallway.
"He's hiding something," Rosita scoffed, "Did you see his face when you laid out the photos? He didn't even blink."
Carol had noticed, and it got her thinking. "If he were being set up, you'd think he would want to cooperate with us. But he isn't. Why?"
"To try and handle the situation himself, maybe?" Rosita dubiously guessed. "But, do you really think he'd risk it?"
"Why not?" Carol said, shrugging. "It isn't like this is his first rodeo."
Rosita considered that, then nodded. "Well, we don't have enough to hold him," she said.
"We won't need to," Carol assured her. "We'll cut him loose, and put a tail on him. If I'm right, he'll lead us in the right direction."
Ellen scanned the lounge in search of her friends, although she was tempted to head straight to the bar. Her day had been thrown off since that morning, and she was more than ready for a stiff drink.
"El! Over here!"
She turned at the sound of Sasha's voice, and spotted them sitting at one of the high top tables, so she made her way over.
"You will not believe the day I've had," she lamented, taking a seat on an open stool.
"We've heard," Sasha chuckled, sliding a margarita in front of her. "Had this waiting for you."
"Thank you," Ellen returned empathically, then she took a sip and reclined back in content.
Maggie rubbed her arm sympathetically while Sasha leaned forward, curious. "What exactly happened?" she asked, needing to hear first hand.
Ellen exhaled through her nose before relaying the bizarre events of her morning. "I was on my way to work when Bram called me. He was freaking out, telling me the Anderson kid stuffed a dead animal inside of his locker," she explained, still in disbelief.
Both Maggie and Sasha's faces twisted in disgust.
"A whole dead animal?" Sasha asked, incredulous.
Ellen nodded. "Or what was left of it. The entire hallway reeked like holy hell."
"RJ came home pretty excited that they got to have class outside today," Michonne supplied, causing Sasha to almost snort out her beer.
Ellen laughed dryly. "Well, that's something, I guess."
"What did Principal Stokes have to say?" Maggie pressed.
Ellen rolled her eyes. "He said they were going to look for a more suitable learning environment for Sam."
"I hope that means mental ward," Sasha scoffed, taking a swig from her bottle.
"He's a child, Sasha," Michonne reminded her.
"And?" Sasha shot back, not seeing her point. "That was some psychotic shit."
Ellen sighed, and downed the rest of her drink. "When they asked him why he did it," she continued, "he said he left it as a present, and that he wanted them to be friends."
Sasha blinked, incredulous. "What the actual fuck?"
"I guess poor Jesse really does have her hands full, huh?" Maggie murmured, exchanging a look with Michonne.
"She looked so pitiful," Ellen offered, waving her hand to catch a waiter's attention. "I would've felt bad if I weren't so ticked off."
"Was her husband there?" Maggie asked, curiously.
"Nope," Ellen returned with a popping sound.
"That doesn't surprise me," Sasha muttered.
Maggie leaned forward, whispering conspiratorially, "You think he's having an affair?"
"That wouldn't surprise me, either," Sasha laughed. "The man acted as if he couldn't be bothered with his own family."
"Exactly," Maggie concurred, "and if he wasn't at work, and he wasn't at the parent teacher conference with Jesse, what else could he be doing?"
"He misses work a lot, according to Jesus," Sasha inserted, suggestively.
Ellen raised her eyebrows in surprise. "You're kidding."
"I almost missed coming out tonight because Glenn got stuck covering his shift,"
Maggie confirmed with the rolling of her eyes.
Ellen sighed, dismayed. "Now I really do feel bad for her."
"You're awfully quiet, Chonne," Sasha said, bumping Michonne with her leg under the table.
Michonne shrugged her shoulders, shaking her head. "I honestly don't know what to say."
Ellen turned to her, reaching over to put a hand on her arm. "I hope I didn't put you in a bad way, I know you wanted her to come," she said, apologetically.
"Didn't matter anyway," Michonne said, "she texted me before I could reach out."
Sasha's eyebrows shot up in curiosity. "Oh, what'd she say?"
Michonne cradled her half-empty glass of tequila and ginger beer. "That something came up, and she wouldn't be able to make it," she told them before taking a sip.
"That's one way of putting it," Maggie murmured behind the rim of her glass.
"She lives in the cul-de-sac so it's not like we can avoid her for long," Ellen murmured, shaking her head, "I just couldn't deal with it tonight."
"I don't blame you," Sasha snickered.
Their conversation was interrupted when a server approached their table. Sasha turned, giving the pretty brunette her full attention.
"Hello again," she greeted, flirtatiously.
Ellen snorted a laugh under her breath, turning to Maggie and Michonne. "She's back at it, huh?"
"As soon as she spotted her," Maggie confirmed, while Michonne nodded.
Sasha ignored them as she ordered another beer for herself.
The server, oblivious to the rest of the table, returned Sasha's coy smile. "Anything else, I can get you?"
Sasha discreetly swiped up the napkin she had written her number down on from the table. "That's up to you," she said, slipping it into the server's apron.
The server winked back then walked away, and Sasha settled back in her seat with a confident smile.
"We can't take you anywhere, can we?" Ellen teased, as Maggie and Michonne both leveled here with knowing looks.
Sasha pretended not to know what they were talking about. "What?" she asked, innocently.
"Uh huh," Maggie voiced. "I thought you and Daryl were trying again?"
"We did try, and it didn't work."
"You have to want to be in the relationship for it to work," Michonne quipped, avoiding Sasha's narrowed gaze as she sipped from her glass.
Ellen frowned. "You mean to tell me Daryl isn't ready to settle down?"
"Daryl's not the problem," Michonne corrected, nodding in Sasha's direction.
"Sasha!" Ellen scolded though it lost its effect through her surprised giggles.
"What?" Sasha shot back, shrugging in her own defense. "Commitment is a big deal for some people, I'm just not one of them."
Maggie patted her hand lightly, tickled by the entire situation. "Self awareness is a beautiful thing," she said.
Sasha smirked back at Michonne and Ellen as if to gloat. "See, Maggie gets it."
Ellen shoved her playfully while Michonne shook her head, laughing behind the rim of her drink. But as she lowered her glass she squinted her gaze, thinking she had just seen a somewhat familiar face looking over at their table from the bar.
The feeling of paranoia was reaching new heights for reasons she could not even begin to explain. All day she had walked around feeling as though she were being watched, a nerve wracking sensation that wouldn't leave her alone. She had hoped that by going out with her friends she would be able to put her unfounded worry behind her, but it seems it wasn't meant to be.
"Hey," Maggie murmured, nudging her lightly, "you okay?"
Michonne blinked and turned back to find Maggie's focus was on her.
"Sorry about that," she replied, distracted.
"You were zoned out for a minute there," Maggie murmured, eyeing her in concern.
Michonne nodded, smiling for her benefit. "What'd I miss?"
"We were talking about that kidnapping," Ellen told her. "Apparently, a body was discovered out on the hunting trails."
"Yeah, I saw that on the news, too," Maggie replied.
"Can we talk about something else?" Michonne asked, eager for a lighter topic.
"I'm with Michonne," Sasha agreed. "That's all they were talking about at the firehouse, and honestly, I'm over it."
"Well," Ellen started, with a mischievous twinkle in her eye, "we could always talk about your love life, instead."
Sasha shook her head, laughing. "We'll definitely need shots for that conversation."
Ellen slammed her hand on the table, startling Sasha. "Shots it is!" she declared, waving over their server again.
Maggie turned to Michonne. "See what you started," she jokingly accused.
Michonne grinned back, but the amusement didn't reach her eyes as she glanced over her shoulder again but saw nothing that should warrant her concern.
When their server reappeared, Ellen took the liberty of ordering another round for the table before Sasha could start flirting again. Then, she turned her devious grin on the table.
"Let the girls' night commence!"
Rick managed to keep his household in relative order, despite being outnumbered seven to one. Some time after dinner, Glenn and Daryl showed up at the same time giving him a break from the chaos to sneak away into his office and get some light work done.
When he emerged, Glenn and his children were long gone. Meanwhile, his youngest two had somehow convinced their uncle to watch a Pixar movie with them in the family room. Although, when he passed by it seemed Daryl was enjoying the animation just as much as his kids were.
He was tempted to tease him for it, but decided to hold off long enough to make the rest of his rounds.
As he wandered into the kitchen, he exhaled a laugh. "You can't still be hungry," he said to Andre, hunched over in the open freezer.
"When he is not hungry?" Judith supplied from the kitchen island without looking up from her laptop.
"Hey, I'm a growing boy," Andre protested, turning around with a pint of ice cream in his hands.
Rick shook his head, amused. "Is Carl still upstairs?" he asked them, noticing he hadn't seen much of his oldest all evening.
Andre nodded, making his way towards the island. Rick automatically pulled a bowl from the cabinet and placed it in front of him.
"He said he had a headache," Judith informed him. "He never came down for his food."
Rick nodded and turned to the microwave to reheat the uneaten plate he had set aside earlier in the evening.
"You're gonna let him eat upstairs?" Judith asked incredulously, watching as her father started up the kitchen steps with the plate in hand.
"Don't tell Mom," Rick called over his shoulder.
Judith's expression was miffed and Andre wisely hid his amusement behind his bowl of ice cream.
Rick knocked on Carl's closed door out of courtesy before opening it.
Carl was lying prone on his bed with headphones over his ears blaring music loud enough for Rick to hear from across the room. He sat up when he saw his father, pushing the headphones back as he did.
"Hey."
"Hey yourself," Rick returned, setting the plate he was carrying down on his desk. "Feeling better?"
Carl nodded, planting his feet on the ground. "Yeah, thanks."
"Well don't tell your sister. She'll raise all hell if she finds out you got to eat in your room just because," Rick said jokingly.
Carl exhaled a laugh, but the humor didn't reach his eyes.
Rick tilted his head, considering him. "So, are you ready to tell me what's really bothering you?"
Carl shook his head. "It's nothing."
Rick shook his head. "I want to believe you, but your actions are saying otherwise. Missing practice is one thing, but dinner? It's not like you."
Carl exhaled and dropped his shoulders, realizing he had been called out. "Sorry."
"Don't be," Rick returned gently as he pulled out the desk chair to take a seat. "Just tell me what's going on."
Carl inhaled slowly, and lifted his eyes to his father. He figured if anyone knew how to help him in this situation, then it would be him. "What would you do if you knew someone you cared about was hurting but they wouldn't tell you what happened or why?"
Rick raised his eyebrows, having not expected him to say that. "I'm going to need a little bit more information, son."
Carl blinked at his tone and realized he needed to clarify. "I don't really have any, it's just a suspicion," he rushed to say.
"Why don't you tell me exactly what's going on?" Rick urged him, fighting to keep the concern out of his tone.
"It's Enid," Carl replied, softly. "She skipped school today, and when I went to check on her she wasn't herself. It was almost like she was afraid of me."
Rick frowned. "Did something happen between the two of you?"
Carl shook his head. "No, everything was fine yesterday. That's why I don't understand what's changed."
"Only Enid can answer that, I'm afraid," he told him.
Rick liked to think he knew all of his kids' close friends pretty well, especially Enid since she had been around the longest. He didn't know her to be a fickle person, in fact he considered her to be just the opposite.
Carl fell back against his bed with a loud sigh. "So, what do I do? Just wait for her to come around."
"Pretty much," Rick confirmed, nodding his head. "Give her space. She'll open up, if and when she's ready."
Carl sat us on his elbows to look at him. "How long will that take?"
Rick shrugged. "That's up to her."
Carl groaned, falling back against his mattress again. "I wish she would just talk to me."
"You can't force her to adapt to your schedule, Carl. If everything is as you say, it probably isn't even about you," Rick told him honestly.
"That shouldn't matter," Carl muttered in return, "we talk to each other about everything. At least, we used to."
Rick huffed a little laugh despite his son's brooding, and when Carl pulled a face at him he waved his hand apologetically. "I'm not laughing at you," he assured him, "I just know what you're going through."
"You do?" he raised his eyebrow and the question skeptically.
"Well, maybe not exactly," Rick amended, "but something like it."
When it didn't seem like Carl had gained any more clarity, Rick sighed and sat forward a little. "It's not unusual to be mystified by the opposite sex. In my experience, it's better not to rush things. Let her tell you what's going on when she's ready, it'll be easier than trying to guess."
"You might be right," Carl allowed as he stared up at his ceiling, "but why does that make me feel even more helpless?"
"Because you care," Rick said, reaching over to pat his leg before standing to leave the room. "You should eat before your dinner gets cold."
"Thanks, Dad," Carl murmured, still in the same position.
"Anytime, son," Rick replied, then quietly pulled the door closed behind him.
"I knew I shouldn't have listened to Sasha," Ellen moaned from the back seat of an Uber.
Beside her, Michonne laughed softly as she scrolled through her phone. "We tried to warn you," she reminded her while sending off a quick text warning Abraham what was coming his way.
Ellen exhaled loudly through her nose, and rolled her head over to rest on Michonne's shoulder. "Friends don't tell friends 'I told you so'," she complained, closing her eyes to stop the world from spinning.
Michonne wrapped an arm around her comfortingly. "But, weren't you the one who asked for that last round of shots?" she teased, putting her phone away.
Ellen shook her head. "It seemed like a good idea at the time," she muttered.
"I'm sure," she returned, indulgently.
"I had fun though," Ellen admitted, "even though I know I'll forget everything by the morning."
Michonne exhaled as she rested her cheek on top of Ellen's hair. "I had fun, too."
"That's good to hear," Ellen returned, looking up at her through glazed eyes. "You seemed pretty distracted in the beginning."
"I'm sorry, it's been a weird day."
"Who the hell are you telling?" Ellen giggled back before a high pitched hiccup escaped her. "Still don't know what to do about Dahmer Junior next door but that's a problem for sober Ellen."
Michonne shook her head, laughing at her.
"I hope... I hope I remember where I parked my car," Ellen stuttered over another hiccup.
"The valet will know," Michonne assured her, "we'll get it in the morning, I'll drop you off before I head to work."
Ellen sighed heavily. "You're such a good friend, Chonne," she breathed out, slouching back against her side.
Michonne gently stroked her hair as returned her attention to the window, watching the city lights fade away into the background.
She had wisely bowed out of the last few rounds of shots, figuring someone should have their wits about them. It was a good thing she did, too, because by the end of the night it was clear no one else had thought that far.
Sasha was known to drink full grown men under the table, so Michonne didn't worry too much when she disappeared with their waitress after they closed out their tab. Instead she focused on confiscating both Maggie and Ellen's keys, and ordering their rides home.
After she saw Maggie safely into her Uber, she sent Glenn a quick text telling him to let her know when she got home. Then, she focused on doing the same for Ellen and herself.
"We're here," their driver announced, looking up at them through the rearview mirror.
Michonne blinked and looked around, as she lightly jostled Ellen at her side. "El, wake up. We're home."
Ellen yawned groggily and slowly sat up in her seat. "Already?" she asked while at the same time blindly fumbling for the door.
Michonne reached across to open it for her, then nodded her thanks to the driver and scooted out of the backseat after her friend.
"Why do we even wear heels?" Ellen grumbled, standing on a wobbly leg as she kicked off her pumps one foot at a time.
Michonne snorted, offering a hand to help her balance. "Masochism, most likely."
Ellen snorted, using Michonne for leverage as she collected her discarded shoes from the ground. "That sounds about right," she returned, standing up straight.
Michonne helped guide her up the steps just as the porch light turned and the front door swung open as Abraham appeared.
"Well, ain't this a sight for sober eyes," he said smugly as he folded his bulky arms across his chest.
"Shut up and carry me inside, you big oaf," Ellen shot back, tiredly.
Abraham chuckled to himself, but otherwise compiled as he lumbered down the steps to meet them. He easily shouldered Ellen's weight and nodded to Michonne. "I got it from here, Counselor."
Michonne smiled her thanks. "See you in the morning," she told Ellen, who lazily waved back in return as she slouched into her husband's arms.
"Bright and early," she mumbled as Abraham all but carried her up the steps.
Michonne smirked, watching them meandered inside before turning on her heels to head to her own home across the street.
Her phone chimed with text, and she slowed down to read it.
It was a message from Glenn, I doubt if she's in the office on time tomorrow, he wrote and attached a photo of Maggie haphazardly sprawled across their living room sofa.
She laughed to herself as she responded, Honestly, same.
She slipped the device back inside of her purse and stepped into the street, but paused when that familiar cold feeling ran down her spine.
Michonne looked around the cul-de-sac, it was largely quiet and nothing out of the ordinary from any direction, yet she couldn't shake the paranoia.
"Get a grip," she muttered to herself.
Still, she picked up the pace as she crossed the street. She resisted the urge to look over her shoulder as she advanced up the driveway. But then the sound of something rustling in the foliage behind her made her react instinctively. She stopped to look over her shoulder, scanning the area once more.
"Hello?"
There was no response, but she narrowed her gaze and began to backtrack, swearing she had caught a glimpse of something or someone in her peripheral vision.
"Who's there?" she asked, louder this time.
Her heartbeat thrummed loudly in her ears as waited with bated breath for whatever it was to reveal itself.
The brush moved once more, and she took a tentative step closer. "Hello?" she called again.
A grey rabbit suddenly hopped out of the brush, startling her. "Fuck," she hissed, clutching a hand to her chest. Then, she exhaled a small laugh at how ridiculous she was being.
"Who are you talking to?"
She whirled around in a near panic as her eyes landed on her husband in their open doorway.
Rick frowned, opening the door wider as he stepped outside. "Are you okay?" he asked worriedly as he reached for her.
"I'm fine," she assured him, though her expression said otherwise.
Rick didn't look convinced as he took her by the hand, searching her eyes. "Baby, you look like you've seen a ghost."
She smiled for his benefit, leaning up to kiss his cheek. "One too many margaritas," she replied, squeezing his hand before heading inside.
"Hey, Chonne," Daryl greeted as she breezed by him in the foyer. "Bye, Chonne," he added, when she wordlessly continued up the steps. He slowly made his way to Rick's side in the open doorway. "What's going on?" he asked.
Rick shook his head, peering into the night with narrowed eyes. "I dunno," he murmured.
Daryl exhaled and shrugged. "Okay, well I'mma head out."
"You mean you don't wanna stay for an encore of Coco," Rick teased as Daryl made his way down the steps.
"Nah, the kids are asleep now anyway..." he trailed, then slowly turned when he realized the joke he had walked into.
Rick grinned. "I told you it was a good movie."
"I dunno what you're talking 'bout," Daryl returned, heading down the driveway towards his bike.
"Daryl, hold on," Rick called after him.
Daryl stopped and waited for his friend to close the distance between them.
"While I'm out of town, you think you could check in on Michonne and the kids?" he asked, "It'd give me peace of mind."
He had been meaning to bring the question up, but it wasn't until he happened upon his wife just now did he realize the request might be for more than his own sanity.
"You know you don't have to ask," Daryl replied easily.
"Thank you," he said, clapping a hand down on his shoulder. "See you tomorrow."
He watched as Daryl tugged his helmet over his hair, then pulled off into the night before he started back up the driveway.
By now, the kids were all in their beds and while he still had some tidying up to do before he could turn in for the night he wanted to check Michonne first.
After locking up, he made his way up the steps towards their bedroom and found her sitting at the foot of their bed in quiet contemplation.
"Did you have a good time?" he asked, leaning against the doorframe.
She nodded, without looking at him. "Yeah, it was nice."
Rick tilted his head, considering her.
"Are the kids all asleep?" she asked, kicking off her shoes.
He nodded as he pushed off the frame and closed the door behind him. Then he crossed the room to kneel down in front of her, bringing his hands up to gently caress her thighs. "Did something happen?"
Michonne inhaled slowly, shaking her head. "You probably think I'm crazy."
Rick offered a crooked grin. "I can handle crazy," he told her.
Michonne took in the sincerity in his eyes, and knew he wouldn't lie to her. But he wasn't the problem, she was worried that if voiced her concern aloud it would validate them more than they were worth.
"Michonne, talk to me," he pleaded softly, "Let me help."
She lifted her hands to cup his cheeks. "I'm just tired," she murmured, then leaned forward to kiss him.
Rick covered one of her hands with his own, and as they pulled apart he searched her eyes for the truth.
"I'm going to take a shower before I get in the bed," she said, dropping her gaze.
Rick stood, giving her room to do the same. "I'll join you in a minute. Just need to straighten up downstairs."
She nodded and started to make her way towards their en suite. Rick followed her with his eyes, certain there was something she wasn't telling him, but unable to figure out what.
Then he remembered his earlier to Carl and thought it would be best to follow his own advice.
He remained in place until he heard the water from the shower start to run, then he made his way back downstairs.
Most of the clean up was already taken care of, he had made sure of as much before putting Maya and RJ to bed. But he had left the television on in the family room where he had been watching the news while waiting for Michonne to get home.
The headline of the late night segment was being broadcasted as he reached down to pick up the remote from the coffee table.
"Atlanta Metro Police questioned gubernatorial candidate, Philip Blake, in what is speculated to be related to the Andrea Holden disappearance. Blake was released earlier this evening, and while no official statements have been made by the Department, Blake maintains his innocence, but insists he will willingly cooperate with the investigation."
Rick turned off the television after that, shrouding the room in darkness with the exception of the street lamps filtering shades of blue through the sheer curtains. He stooped to pick up Maya's stuffed bunny from the floor, intending to return it to her before turning in himself.
As he stood, he noticed something through the bay windows. He quietly moved closer, lifting the curtain aside for a closer look.
He frowned at the sight of Pete Anderson standing across the street, seemingly staring directly at his house.
Rick walked towards the front door, intending to ask him what exactly he was doing, but when he opened it no one was there.
"What the fuck?" he muttered to himself, and for a moment he wondered if he imagined the sighting.
He closed the door with a sigh, and locked up. Then, with his daughter's stuffed animal in hand, he ventured back upstairs.
When he got to his daughter's room he realized why she didn't make a fuss about her missing bunny. Uncle Daryl had apparently gifted her with something better. A stuffed dog.
Rick chuckled to himself, and tucked the bunny in on her other side. Then, he leaned down to kiss her forehead as he pulled her comforter up around her.
"Good night, sweetheart," he whispered, before leaving her room to check on the rest.
By the time he made it back to his bedroom, Michonne was already out of the shower and in the bed. He wasn't sure how deep of a sleep she had fallen into, so he soundlessly wandered into the closet to strip down to his boxers. Then, he climbed in behind her and pulled her body back to his chest.
"I love you," he murmured into her ear, kissing her there.
Michonne instinctively relaxed against him, feeling safe in his arms.
Despite what she said, he knew something was bothering her. Even though he was desperate to know what, he also knew the more he pressed the more likely she was to tell him it was nothing.
So he did the only thing he could do, he hugged closer to let her know he was there.
With her in his arms, it was easy to drift off, but he heard her whispered response before he could doze off completely.
"I love you, too."
/
A/N: There is a good chance I'm posting into a void. For anyone still here, I am so sorry! I did not intend to take a long hiatus, but it's been a busy couple of months.
Hopefully, this ridiculously long chapter helps to make up for my absence. The next chapter is in the works, so I hope to post again soon. Thank you for your patience!
xo