Bailey was waiting for Sam when she and Chloe returned to the firehouse. Chloe ran towards him to give him a hug.

"Uncle Bailey! Did you hear? Mom's going to stay at home now!"

Bailey nodded, his expression unreadable. "I heard. Can I speak to her alone for a sec?"

"'Kay. I've got homework anyway." Chloe ran off, leaving the two adults in an uncomfortable silence.

Sam broke it first. "How are the girls?"

"They're fine."

"Good. Umm . . . how's—"

"When did you decide you were leaving? And why didn't you tell me?" Bailey was obviously upset, but his tone was calm.

Sam shrugged. "I was going to tell you."

"When?"

She shrugged again.

"If this is about what happened, we can work through it. You don't have to quit—"

"I can't do it anymore, Bailey. This life . . . it's not what I want anymore."

"So you're just going to leave? You're going to let him win?"

Sam sighed. "That's so easy for you to say. But this isn't about you, it's about me. Let me go, okay?"

"What did he do to you? What aren't you telling me?"

"Nothing! Bailey, please."

"He's not going to stop. If you leave, you'll be unprotected. He could—"

Sam wrapped her arms around her chest and collapsed onto the couch. "Because I'm so well-protected as it is!"

"Agent Mackenzie told me you went jogging by yourself today. We can't protect you if you don't want to be protected."

Sam let out a half-laugh. "What? Am I in trouble because I didn't do what I was told? This is my life, Bailey! I'd like to live it. I want Chloe to be able to go to a birthday party without clearing it with you. I just want . . . normalcy."

Bailey sat down, keeping a small distance between him and Sam. "And you can have all that . . . once we catch Jack."

"Do you honestly think that's ever going to happen? How many years has it been now? We're still no closer to catching him than when you first showed me his file."

"I'm going to let you think about it. I'll call you tomorrow." He let himself out, passing Angel on her way in.

Sam went straight to her bedroom, lying awake for a long time before sleep finally claimed her.

Sam was idly paging through a magazine when the phone rang. She leaned across the couch and answered. It was Bailey. Sam's fingers tightened around the receiver as she braced herself for another argument.

"How are you feeling?" His tone was gentle and she bit back her guilt.

"I'm okay."

"Sam—"

"I watched a movie once, where this little girl prays for God to turn her into a bird so she can fly away. Years later, she finds herself standing on the edge of a balcony, looking out into the night. Have you ever been there, Bailey? Standing on a knife's edge, so tempted to just fall forward so that it can all be over?"

There was silence from Bailey's side so Sam continued; knowing her words would hurt him and not caring. "When Tom died, I didn't think I'd be able to go on. And every time Jack kills someone, I wonder if he'd carry on if I was dead."

"Sam, you're not thinking of—"

She looked at a photo of Chloe, taken a few weeks ago. She had one arm around Denzel's neck and her head was thrown back, her mouth open in laughter. Sam's smile was bitter. "No. But I'm dying inside anyway. This job is taking so much from me, Bailey. I . . . I don't know. I want to remember what it feels like to . . . to feel, I think."

"I had no idea you felt that way."

Neither did I. And all it took was one night with Jack to open my eyes.

"Why don't you talk to Melinda? Maybe she can help you work through this."

"Bailey, no. Please, I don't want to talk. I'm tired of talking."

"Sam—"

She heard voices and looked up to see Angel and Chloe step off the elevator. "I've got to go."

She hung up and stood to greet Chloe. Quitting was the right thing to do, wasn't it?

Angel leaned against the doorjamb, her arms crossed, and looked at Sam who was curled up on the couch. Since her lunch with Chloe two days ago, Sam had wandered around the house in her pajamas, doing nothing. She didn't read, she didn't watch TV, she didn't spend any time in the darkroom anymore, and even when she was with Chloe, Angel could see her mind was miles away. She looked . . . lost. There had been a few times in the past couple of years when Angel had been seriously worried by her friend's state of mind. This was by far the worst. When Angel had woken up to find Sam still sitting where she'd left her the night before, she'd decided it was time to do something.

"Sam, you need to get out of the house."

Sam looked up when Angel spoke. "I've decided to become a hermit."

Angel didn't smile. "I thought you didn't want to be a prisoner."

"Angel—"

"You don't go out anymore, not even to pick Chloe up from school. That spot on the couch is developing a permanent indentation."

Sam bit her lip and looked away. Angel wondered if she'd gone too far. She crossed the room and sat down next to Sam.

"Hey, if you want to be a hermit, I guess it's okay with me."

Sam smiled and leaned against her, her head on Angel's shoulder. "Sorry. I know I've been difficult since . . . well, yeah."

"It's okay."

"I'm sorry about Joel too. He seemed like a great guy."

Angel sighed. How many deaths did Sam have to carry on her conscience? When would it all end?

Sam pushed the cart up and down the aisles. She would have preferred to stay at home, but Angel and Chloe had been begging her to get out the house for days. Just to get them off her back, she'd agreed to go grocery shopping with them. Angel and Chloe were doing most of the work; Angel read from the list and Chloe took the items from the shelves. Sam narrowly missed running down a toddler with the cart, and she wondered why everyone in Atlanta had decided to come shopping at this supermarket. She stopped in the frozen food section, letting Angel look for vegetables. Someone was ringing a bell to announce some special or other and a kid a few feet behind her was throwing a tantrum because he wanted Oreos. For the first time in a long time, Sam wanted a cigarette.

"Mrs. Waters?"

Sam nodded, looking curiously at the woman standing in front of her. Although she looked vaguely familiar, Sam couldn't place her.

"Mary Parker. Chloe's teacher. We met at parents' evening—"

"Oh yes!" Sam smiled. "Sorry. I don't know where my mind is these days."

"I've been meaning to call you. We're having a careers day in two week's time and I was wondering if you'd be interested in hosting a table, or speaking, or something." At Sam's look of misgiving, she rushed on. "Chloe mentioned that you spoke to her class a couple of years ago."

Sam glanced over at Chloe, who held up a tub of ice cream with a pleading look in her eyes. There was that damn bell again, and was that kid still screaming? Was this her life? Even in the frozen food section, Sam felt hot. Maybe she was coming down with something. Maybe she was losing her mind. She needed to get out of there . . . why was it so stuffy?

Mrs. Parker was still looking expectantly at her. Sam nodded.

"It shouldn't be a problem."

Finally – finally – they were in the checkout queue. Sam excused herself with a headache and went to wait in the car.

Sam managed to successfully avoid Bailey for three days before he ambushed her again at the firehouse. She'd gone jogging again, and when she returned he was waiting outside.

"Sam."

"Hi."

"I thought about what you said. Take as much time as you need before coming back."

"You don't get it. I'm not coming back."

She pushed past him, closing the elevator doors before he could follow her.

"It's over, Bailey. I'm out."

Angel was on the phone when Sam came in. She beckoned her over.

"Hang on, she just came in now."

"Who is it?" Sam asked.

"Don't know. A guy." Angel winked.

Sam took the phone, frowning. "Hello?"

"Samantha."

Sam almost dropped the phone in shock. She lowered her voice to a whisper. "Jack?"

"I've missed you."

Sam looked around to see where Angel was, hoping that she was out of earshot. "Why are you calling?"

"I want to see you, Samantha."

Sam wiped the perspiration from her brow. Every fiber of her being screamed for her to put the phone down, to call for whichever agent was on duty today.

"When?" she asked.

Sam sat at the same table she and Chloe had occupied earlier that week. When Jack had mentioned the little restaurant, she'd known he'd been watching her. Strangely, the knowledge didn't disturb her as much as it would have in the past. She sipped water slowly, waiting. She'd arrived early.

"Samantha, it's so good to see you again." He appeared behind her suddenly, bearing a single red rose.

She smiled, unwilling to admit that she felt the same. "Hi."

The absurdity of the situation was not lost on her. Here she was, meeting her stalker because he'd wanted to see her. She was on a date with a serial killer. So much for normalcy.

"Have you thought about what I said?"

Sam nodded. "I want you to do something for me."

"Anything."

"I want you to help me disappear."

TBC