"What was that?" Sydney stared over her bowl of oatmeal at an unusually moody Vaughn.

He paused, forkful of eggs frozen in mid-stride. "What was what?"

"Upstairs...with Lindsley. What did you think you were doing?" Sydney tried to keep a pleasant countenance so as not to bring any unwanted attention, but was also determined make her point.

Vaughn's uncomfortable silence was proof enough that it was working.

"We're not going to exactly win her over with fighting with her." She spooned some oatmeal. It's warmth slid down her throat and she immediately realized how ravenous she truly was.

Vaughn's face reddened and he became inordinately interested with his eggs.

"All I'm saying is we should back off some," she softened. Had to be the food. "Ok?"

He laid his fork down. "I'm sorry... It's just that..." his face shadowed. She wasn't positive, but Sydney thought he was tearing up.

"It's ok."

"No... I just.."

"Vaughn," she reached across the table and laid her hand on his arm. "It's ok. Really."

He looked into her eyes. He hadn't really done so since that day in Korea, and even then did he really look? They were soft, caring, almost as if they read his soul. He swallowed.

Sydney noticed too.

Just like he did before I disappeared.

"We should go back upstairs." Sydney didn't want to say it but knew she had no other choice.

"Right. We need to go."

"Yeah."

"It's the next right," Lindsley leaned over the seat carefully directing Vaughn. "Those gates."

"They're closed. Probably locked."

"We're not going through the gates. See that road, to the left, follow that around. It'll drop you right next the dormitories."

"What's the point of the gate?"

Lindsley merely shrugged.

"You two stay down here while I go up and get the key," Lindsley said as they stepped from the car. The sky was overcast and the midnight moon barely shown though the thick clouds.

"We can't send you in there alone." This time Sydney was the voice of reason.

Lindsley sighed. Wearily she continued. "I know this place. I know every nook, every cranny, every creaking board. No offense, but you don't. One creak. One misplaced foot. That's all it'll take."

"She's right. We can't risk being exposed." Sydney was stunned into silence at Vaughn's comment.

"Ok. I'm the window right above the door. I'll flash the lights if there is any trouble."

"Let's just hope there's not."

Lindsley ascended the stairs, carefully skipping the third, fifth, and ninth steps, all of which would let loose a deafening creak if stepped upon.

She glanced down both halls.

Silence.

The only light emitted came from the end of each hall through the ostentatiously large windows.

I never have liked those, she mused.

Quietly, she tiptoed down the hall to her right, suddenly very thankful for the many illegal escapades that had brought her outside at night during the school year.

Almost silently she opened the door to her room and slipped in.

Breathing a sigh of relief, she slumped against the old piece of oak.

"Welcome back, Lindsley."