Part Seven





Her blue eyes darted back and forth suspiciously each time someone new came through the café's doors. She sighed heavily. Bringing her cup to her lips, but setting it back down as she realized she wasn't thirsty. Not at all. The cup was just a prop. She didn't want to advertise to the whole world how pathetic she was. How Sheridan Crane's heart had been broken yet again. Her face was too recognizable around here. The last thing she wanted was to give them more fodder. Something else to chew on.

Guilt rose within her as she thought of the worry Marie and Catherine must be going through. She held her head in her hands. Tears lurking just behind her lids. She didn't want to concern them. But she couldn't take it anymore. Couldn't be so close to him. His kisses made her weak, and she hated herself for that. He was wearing her down, and the only thing that had saved her this time was the awful reminder of his words from that night on the wharf. Then at breakfast. Princess. He'd called her a spoiled princess that night.

If he hated her so much.only wanted to use her.why did he even care if she lived or died? What was it to him? She felt like her world was spinning out of control. She threw some money down on the table and stood up. Walking to the door and leaving. She wasn't fooling anyone, she realized. Least of all herself. She wandered desolately down the streets. Aimlessly. Startled when an old man jumped out in front of her. Wordlessly offering a single red rose and a kind smile.

She searched in her purse for money to pay him with, but he refused her money. Disappearing again into the throng of people. It was almost like he was never there, she thought. Looking at her reflection in the mirrored window in front of her. If it weren't for the red rose she held as proof in her hand, she might have started to question her own sanity. You're not going crazy, Sheridan, she reassured herself. Smiling sheepishly. Her smile faded quickly, and her heart started racing when she glimpsed a man standing behind her. Watching her every move intently.

Sheridan, she said to herself. Maybe you ARE losing your mind again. But she didn't really believe it. Something about the man just felt wrong. And her suspicions were raised even more when she slipped inside the door to the next store. A boutique. The man followed her. She watched him. Afraid her heart would pound right out of her chest as he narrowly missed seeing her. She exhaled in relief when he left the boutique, and she remained unscathed. "Merci," she said to the young woman behind the counter as she paid for the hat. Her disguise.

She stepped outside. Praying he wasn't out there. That he wouldn't see her. Her mouth went dry as he passed her by. Nary a flicker of recognition in his small dark eyes. Oh my god, she thought. Covering her heart with her hand. Willing it to slow down. That was too close. What now, Sheridan? Think. Think. You have to get out of here. Back to Marie's. Without being followed. She couldn't bear to think of anything happening to her friend. Or her precious goddaughter. A crowd is better. Don't let him get you alone, she thought.

By some miracle, her legs supported her trembling body as she walked the rest of the way to Marie's building. With a shaking hand she pulled the hat off. Revealing her blond hair again. Almost there, she told herself as she took the stairs. Straining her ears to listen for any signs she was being followed. Fighting the urge to scream when she heard footsteps echoing. Always pausing when she stopped. I can't do this, she panicked. I can't. I never should have run away again. He's going to kill me. A single tear seeping from beneath her closed lids and trailing down her cheek as she took a deep breath and stepped around the last corner. Screaming in horror as a pair of arms grabbed her. She was going to die.