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The webcam became Betty's lifeline. She thought about it all day at school; she spent as much of her time on it when she got home as she could. Allowing herself to embrace her darkness gave her power over it.

And it was hers. Her mother didn't control it; Jughead couldn't deny her the chance to do it. On the webcam, Betty could be anything, anyone, she wanted to be.

Holding that secret to her heart, sharing it only with Chic, who understood that darkness, was the best thing that had happened to Betty in a long time.

Jughead sat with Betty in front of Principal Wetherbee, listening to the principal list off all the ways The Blue and Gold's current editorial policy disturbed the peace of Riverdale.

He was hard put not to laugh in Wetherbee's face. There was no peace in Riverdale, and wouldn't be, as long as the Serpents and every one from the South Side were constantly hounded by the law every time something bad happened, constantly pushed aside so that the face of Riverdale could remain conveniently Northsided. Besides, wasn't journalism supposed to disturb the peace? That was what the press was for.

"Most recently, Hiram Lodge's lawyer, a Mr. Sowerberry, has called, saying that his client is considering legal action against The Blue and Gold."

"On what grounds?" Jughead snapped.

"Defamation of character, Mr. Jones. Effective immediately, you are both suspended from the newspaper's staff. You have the day to clean out your personal things."

Jughead was startled—he hadn't expected such decisive action—and angry. Betty took it better than he would have expected, silent and calm.

He followed her to the newspaper offices, wracked with guilt over the way his crusade had affected her life. Apparently they were toxic to one another as coworkers as well as in a relationship. "I'm so sorry, Betty," he told her, standing there helplessly while she began to pack up her things. "I don't care if they harass me at home or school, but you … You don't deserve this heat."

She looked at him, still not having said a word since Wetherbee's pronouncement, and Jughead thought how beautiful she was, how amazing, how she deserved better than this school, this town, and its least favorite son. "Who's harassing you at home?" Betty asked, which was not at all what he would have thought she'd be most upset by.

"Sheriff Keller. He has no proof, but he suspects one or more of the Serpents, probably me, decapitated the statue of General Pickens."

"And … did you?"

"Betty. How— Why would I decapitate a bronze statue?"

"Maybe the same reason you wrote that article: to avenge Toni's grandfather."

She looked away as she said it, and Jughead realized with a flash of excitement that she was jealous. He shouldn't find that exciting, but apparently loving Betty Cooper wasn't something you got over.

"You and Toni are … close," Betty added softly, still not looking at him.

"Sure. We're pals."

"Close pals." Now she did look at him, her blue eyes direct and fearless. "I saw you guys at Pop's, early one morning, in the middle of the Black Hood attacks. You were having breakfast, and you seemed like more than pals. And I know it's not my place to ask, but did anything ever happen between you two?"

It was her place to ask; it was always going to be. So Jughead admitted honestly, "Yeah. The night of the Gauntlet, after you sent Archie to break up with me, Toni stayed over." Anyone who didn't know Betty as well as he did might not have noticed the way she flinched at that, so he told the rest, because he wanted her to know. "She gave me a tattoo … and we did some stuff, but … not everything." In Jughead's mind, 'everything' still belonged to Betty, even if that was a dream that was dead.

"Uh-huh."

But Betty wasn't the only one nursing some jealousies. She and Archie had been thrown together so much, Jughead needed to know if that closeness had sparked anything. "But since you brought it up, have you done anything with anyone since we broke up?"

"No." The answer came quickly. She frowned at him. "No. Of course not."

He knew his Betty—there was more than she was saying. But he really didn't have the right to push. And if they continued this conversation another minute he'd have her in his arms, he wanted to kiss her so badly.

Instead, he got to his feet and removed himself from the situation, stammering something about getting his stuff later to mask the fact that he was a coward, who could neither reach for her nor let her go.

When he got home that night, Jughead found the entire trailer park in an uproar. Sheriff Keller was at the door of the Jones trailer, stapling some papers to it.

"Where's your dad at?"

"Had a shift at Pop's. Why?"

"It's an eviction notice. You, your dad, pretty much everyone in this place, you all got to clear out."

"What?" Jughead couldn't believe what he was hearing. "Don't tell me this is because of that statue. For the millionth time, Sheriff, we did not decapitate General Pickens. And you can't use that as some trumped-up excuse to try and evict all of us."

"Look, I'm just the messenger, all right? This order comes down from the Mayor's office. Apparently, there's a lot of back rent owed here. You have fourteen days to vacate. Then, perhaps, while you're packing, you might come across that head, calm the waters a little."

The last sentence nearly tipped Jughead from despair to rage, and only the knowledge that it would just make things worse kept him from attacking the sheriff.

When his dad got home later, they put their heads together, but neither of them could come up with a solution. The powers that were in Riverdale wanted them out; they would have them out one way or another. How did you fight an entire town that wished you didn't exist?

The Serpents met to discuss the issue, and Tall Boy openly blamed Jughead for the article in The Blue and Gold and for the Pickens Day protest.

FP got between them, reminding them all that they were Serpents, and they would only survive by sticking together. Watching his father as leader of the Serpents gave Jughead a whole new perspective on the man who had raised him—he respected his firm and calm hand on the situation, and wished that he didn't somehow manage to screw up everything he touched. His father, Betty, Riverdale—all of it would have been better off if he had just kept his mouth shut.

He had to fix this. Somehow. So he went to the mayor, trying to use the power of his words to show her a different perspective, to let her know that the Serpents were people.

She countered by blaming the governor, which Jughead found hard to believe. Looking at her closely, he realized there was more to this than met the eye. Someone was behind the mayor, pulling her strings. When he accused her of it, she didn't deny it.

Instead, she said, "You're a bright kid, Jughead. I've always liked you. So listen to what I'm telling you: Back down."

Then she sent him out of her office and seemed to think that was the end of it. But as far as Jughead was concerned, it was only the starting point. He would find out who wanted the Serpents gone so badly, and he would make it stop. And there was only one person he could trust to help him.

Betty wished her heart would stop leaping every time Jughead texted her. Love wasn't something she could hope for—not the real kind she had tasted so briefly in his arms. From now on, she vowed, she would use men, and love, for her own purposes, and never let them get too close.

She maintained that distant attitude, that remoteness from the real world, all the way to Pop's, and only wavered a little when she saw how distressed Jughead was, when she wanted so badly to put her arms around him and promise to help make it all go away.

"It's … The Serpents are in trouble. I— Thank you for meeting with me," he began. "You're the only person in this town that I can talk to about something like this."

"Before you do, can I just point out one thing?"

"I know what you're going to say. Last time the Serpents and I were in trouble, I pushed you away."

That hadn't been precisely what she was going to say, but she was glad he saw the irony of the situation. "What do you need, Jug?" she asked quietly.

"Mayor McCoy thinks the Serpents were the ones who vandalized the statue of General Pickens. And now, suddenly, we have fourteen days to vacate Sunnyside Trailer Park."

"What?" That wasn't at all what Betty had expected. This was beyond petty squabbles over a relationship—this was people's homes being threatened. "That's … illegal."

"Technically, the trailer park's on town property. And not everyone has paid their rent."

"Well, so let's go talk to Mayor McCoy."

"I did. She's making this all about the beheaded statue and really it's just a pretense to shut us up and get us out."

"If the statue's what's fueling her fire, then let's take away the gas. 'The Case of the Decapitated Statue'. Let's treat it like a missing persons case. Someone, somewhere, must've seen something. So we'll canvass the town with reward flyers for anyone who has information." Betty could feel the blood pumping, her excitement building. She loved this, finding the truth and using it to help people. And she particularly loved doing it with Jughead.

He was looking at her with surprise. Clearly he hadn't expected her help, even when he was asking for it. "Finding out who took that head would really take the wind out of Mayor McCoy's sails."

"So …"

"Find the head, save the trailer park."

Cooper and Jones, on the case again. It felt right.