Chapter 23: Moonless Night

Destination was so close that I could almost taste it. A mere twenty paces lay ahead of Roland and me, and at the rate we were running, the twenty was cut in half. I had caught up with him some while back. The reason why I was able to catch up was something I never really thought about, for my mind was full of other swimming thoughts.

Nearing Alexandra's delightful home reminded me of the dreaded and shocking time she exploded in front of Roland, Adam, and me. Of course, the event was still fresh in my mind, but what I wondered most about was, since when did she admire Adam? If she had been smitten by him for nearly a decade then surely she would have let him know by then that she had at least some slight interest in him. But she said not a word. Not a word. The few seconds before I narrowly missed colliding into the Westley door, I pondered over the realization that whenever I was with Adam in her presence, she'd glare at us menacingly, as if some hidden jealousy churned in her acid-filled stomach, and again, I thought correctly. But I never thought that she wanted someone else other than Roland. Her glares towards Adam and me just made me think that she hated me all the more for having a "suitor" like her, but it ended up being far from so. Although I despised a future Turner and Westley relationship, the two did indeed seem like idiotic lovers, a title I knew I would soon accept with Adam. Who would have ever thought that she would use my brother as a tool to show Adam how "wonderful" and "adored" she was. Thankfully, he never noticed the bait.

"Ha!" came a ferocious and triumphant yell from Roland's mouth. Unable to stop himself, he banged into the Westley doors, too full of bliss to mind the pain and greeted me with a wide grin as I slowed to a stop beside him. "Good race, sister," he said, speaking in a very haughty tone and offering me his hand to shake.

"Absolutely marvelous," I replied, using the same sarcasm, and gratefully gripping his hand in an iron clutch.

"Ow!" he squealed, pulling his hand away from my purposefully tight handshake. I squeezed his hand as hard as my corset squeezed my decaying lungs.

"What? Can't even take a handshake, young Roland?" I said, turning and taking the time to knock on the door.

"Shut up," he muttered as he inspected his red hand. "Since when did you learn how to shake hands like that?"

"I didn't. Every person I was forced to shake hands with I abhorred, and so I made sure to welcome them with a painful memory."

"You're daft, Astrid. Give people a chance for once, to get to know you." He wiped his hand on his trousers as the door to the Westley residence parted and the head of their doorman appeared.

"Yes, may I help you two?" he asked.

"Yes," I answered. "We're the daughter and son of Mister and Missus Turner. My father told us to meet them here. Can you tell them we've arrived?" The doorman nodded repeatedly, stepping aside and pushing the door open wider to let us in. As custom, Roland let me pass through the door to the house I never dreamed of finding myself in, and holding my breath, I took the plunge.

When I found it safe to breathe, I was confronted by Alexandra's charming older brother, Stephen. "Ah, Miss Turner," he said, his blue eyes sparkling. I felt the familiar shiver up my spine again. "And young Mister Turner," he added, turning his head to the side to welcome Roland. "Your parents are in the parlor with my father. Michael," he said, addressing the doorman. "Lead our guests to their destination please."

"Yes, sir."

As we were led away from the main hall and towards the parlor, I couldn't help but cautiously turn my head to look at Stephen one more time. When my eyes searched for him, I saw that he was watching us leave, but more importantly, he caught my glance and smirked. Shot with nervousness, I spun my head around, feeling Roland's bony elbow nudging me in the side. "What exactly were you doing?" he mumbled.

"Nothing," I lied, making it all too obvious that I was lying. My red face and shifty eyes were enough to condemn me.

"Do not tell me you like Stephen, Astrid," said Roland, almost giggling the words.

"I don't!" I fired back, growing even hotter in the face. "I just think he's very..."

"Attractive? Handsome? Proper? Tall? Polite?"

"Yes," I admitted. "He's everything you are not." Roland scoffed at my comment, putting on a sly grin.

"What about Adam then? Adam who clearly and desperately loves you?"

"I said I thought Stephen was an attractive and polite young man, while Adam is a friend and a charming suitor. I have fun with him. He makes me laugh. He's considerate and caring but at the same time firm and courageous. I actually know Adam, Roland, while as with Stephen, I know absolutely nothing."

"I'm sure you'd like to, wouldn't you?" said Roland, laughter on the tip of his tongue.

"This is revenge for all the years of my teasing you and Alexandra, isn't it?" I asked, knowing very well that Roland would say yes.

"Of course it is, but I'm just looking out for your suitor, Astrid. No one likes to find out that the person they thought loved them didn't even love them at all." His voice became graver and graver with each word he said and by the time he finished, his face was serious and pale, his hazel eyes seeming almost grey from despair. To his relief, he needn't speak more, for our eyes met those of our Mum and Dad who sat on a couch, Mister Westley sitting in an armchair not too far away.

Before anyone had a chance to speak, Mum rose from the cushioned piece of furniture and approached her darling children. "Astrid, Roland," she said, looking at us straight in the eye when she called our names. "I've been wondering where you two were. Your father and I almost decided to go out and search for Roland, and you," she said, looking at me. I smiled sheepishly, knowing I was guilty of not returning to them sooner. "Your job was to find Roland and bring him here as soon as possible."

"I would have," I answered, defending my spot already. "But Roland revealed to me a few things about his life on the ship." From the corner of my eye, I saw Roland twitch, as if I was not supposed to tell Mum about our conversation. Soon, his face was a pale crimson that stretched all the way to his ears.

"Did he now?" asked Mum, her unreadable glare turning to her only son. "I'm sure he'd tell his parents what those things are about, right Roland?" There was a pause, and then reluctantly from his mouth Roland answered.

"Y-Yes, Mum."

"I was hoping you would right now," she continued, prompting us to take a seat on the empty couch in the parlor. "Considering that Stephen already informed us slightly about your newfound bad habits." Roland's stature shrank as he slumped his shoulders in embarrassment, and ducking his head, he tried to avoid further humiliation while trying to become one with the couch he sat in.

While he sat coiled and uncomfortable on his side of the couch, I sat upright and proper, taking in small, nasally breaths because my corset restricted normal breathing habits. I looked from face to face with a smile questioning why I was here and what good I was in a conversation involving only Roland. Soon enough though, Mum addressed my purpose.

"Don't think you will be let off so easy, Astrid," she said. "I haven't forgotten your rude behavior towards Mister Westley's children, not to mention how you four caused a very big interruption last time we were gathered together." The faintest tints of pink began to invade my cheeks as I began to realize the horrible reality of truth and mortification.

"If you are going to want us to explain that to you, you'll need Alexandra and Adam here to tell their side of the story. You can't choose our punishment without judging all events in the sequence, Mum," I said, thinking it best and just to have things done that way. For once, I was not saying something to help myself out of getting in trouble.

"It is night and we will not send for Adam so late in the day, Astrid. Alexandra though, can be called down here if Mister Westley does not mind having his daughter participate in the testimony."

"Of course not, Missus Turner," said Mister Westley. "Stephen!" he yelled, his tired voice echoing through his lonely home. Shortly after, Stephen came walking into the room, his face brightened from the quick run he went through to get there. I predicted that he was somewhere on the other side of the quiet house when he heard his father beckon.

"Yes, Father?" he said, pulling on his overcoat to make sure he was presentable.

"Tell Alexandra that her presence is needed in the parlor. And if she objects, tell her it is an order from me." Stephen nodded, looking pleased that his sister's presence was being requested only because she had caused trouble.

As he obediently left the room to retrieve Alexandra from her fortress of doom, he turned his head back. From the corner of my eye, I could feel his stare on the side of my head and see the smirk that came onto his face. Although he probably did not think I would catch the movement, I did, and I suddenly felt uneasy and flattered at the same time, filling my brain with inexcusable thoughts of whether Stephen had turned back to look at me.

It was Daddy's sudden huff, coming deep from his throat that snatched me away from my ridiculous day dreams. "Astrid," he said gently, taking note of my stunned and clueless face. "Where did you find Roland?" I gulped, feeling the words I wanted to spit out so badly pushing against my tongue. I wanted to scream out to them He was wanderin' the streets with the sod, Collins, who wanted to do me in!, but of course, Roland would be punished far too severely if I told Mum and Dad that.

"He was walking around the alleyways with his friend, Collins: the man in the lett"

"Was he drinking?" asked Daddy, cutting me off. It was obvious that he wanted clear, precise answers, not mindless ramble.

"Yes." Surprisingly, the yes did not come from my already opened mouth. It emerged from Roland's. "Yes, I was drinking." His voice sounded annoyed as if Mum and Dad knew he was drinking, but wanted him to admit his fault aloud, but if one listened closely, a hint of regret and shame was mingled with the mild irritation.

"Roland," Mum sighed, twisting a piece of her dress tightly in her rigid, thin hands. "We warned you about the effects of alcohol"

"Yes, yes, I know," interrupted Roland, his impatience clearly growing.

"Don't interrupt your mother, Roland," intruded Daddy, his voice firm but reasonable. With half-shut eyelids, Roland stared at the floor, shifting his feet in nervousness. After a brief moment of silence, Daddy relaxed a bit, leaning back in his chair and finally said, "Continue."

No one ever continued, for we were hushed when Stephen returned, his face grim and his blue eyes pallid. "My lord," he said, addressing his father. What nice manners.

"Yes?" replied Mister Westley, already predicting that something was wrong and rose from his seat.

"Alexandra was not in her room."

"What!"

"I asked her maid and all of the other servants on the floor to ask if they had seen her. They knew nothing. Her maid said that she went into her room about an hour before sunset and never came out."

"For goodness sake," muttered Mister Westley, balling his wrinkly hand in a tight fist. "Why would she even want to leave? Did you enter her room?"

"Yes. It was open. I entered and she was no where in sight. Her window was open, bed sheets hanging out of it like a rope." I grinned inside. So the wench had a conniving mind as well. Of course, Roland and I had used the same strategy to escape the cage of oppression around us as well.

"Find her," ordered Mister Westley.

"My lord, it's late in the night and there is no moon. You cannot possibly think"

"I said find my daughter, boy!" yelled Mister Westley, silencing Stephen into a state of shock. Stephen seemed more insulted by being called a "boy" than being yelled at by his father.

"Where am I supposed to look?" challenged Stephen, trying desperately to get out of the task. "She could be anywhere in the town by now. Perhaps even on a ship that sailed from the harbor but an hour ago. Father, why can you not wait till morning and look for her where there are people who could have seen her, for currently, no man knows where she is."

"I know," said Roland strongly, making himself part of the argument. Getting up from his seat, he cautiously neared Mister Westley and Stephen, his face stern but certain. "She's feeling guilty. Trust me. On the ship, when one of the sailors was trying to make a move on her, she ran away to the preacher. She's at the town church or chapel trying to redeem herself."

"How would you know? She's never done anything of this sort," replied Stephen, not wanting to search for his sister, but skeptical of Roland's prediction. Mister Westley looked back and forth between his son and Roland, his face scrunched up in the decision of who to believe and trust.

"I will take your assumption, young Mister Turner. It is the only choice we have at the moment, and so I will take it. If we do not find her, then we shall wait till morning to search again." Hesitantly, Stephen nodded in agreement, about to turn around and head out of the door.

"May I go as well?" I asked timidly, fearing that the answer would be a definite no. I looked at the faces of my dear old parents, my eyes enlarging with desperate freedom.

"No, Astrid," said Mum and Dad simultaneously.

"I thought you disliked Alexandra," added Roland, supporting Mum and Dad's decision all the more. For a moment, I was angered by Roland's intrusion, but let is pass quickly. Anger would not give me what I wanted.

"It's true that I do, of course please do not feel offended Mister Westley. I'm sure your daughter is a good person, but not in my eyes. Besides, six eyes are better than four. And I'm not necessarily doing this for her. Any person who is lost or feels that way should be found, and I'd like to take part in the effort. I did find Roland for you. Why can't I be part of another search? What wrong is there that prohibits me?" My speech was too good to be true, and I could not believe that the words came from my mouth. I guess Roland was right. If I wanted something badly enough, I'd get myself exactly there.

"Do you really wish to help Stephen and Roland?" asked Mum, getting up and walking towards me. "Are you sure you want to spend the rest of the night searching for someone you could care less about instead of going home and sleeping?" She smiled, knowing that sleep was a favorite thing of mine, but I looked at her straight in the eye, not returning the smile to prove my seriousness.

"Yes, Mum. I do." She nodded her head weakly, and confirmed her decision with a wave of her hand, signaling that we could leave.

"Tomorrow, no matter how late you two may come home, both of you will rise at dawn and complete this conversation at our house with Alexandra and Adam. This has been put off for far too long. Go on." I unleashed my smile, grateful that I had been permitted another opportunity to a somewhat adventurous task, and curtsied at my mother and father, bowing very low to show them respect.

"The coach is ready," said Stephen, beckoning for Roland and me to make haste and hurry out of the door. With one last look at my parents, I trailed behind Roland and Stephen as we ran out of the Westley door and into the carriage waiting to take us around the town.

The air was bitter and chilling, accompanied by a thick army of mist that hovered silently above the cobblestone and dirt streets. Any lights that could be seen around the shops were flickering weakly, almost ready to be taken out for the night. The roads were silent, save for the occasional squeaking of shutters by the wind or faint cries of abandoned cats and dogs that roamed aimlessly around the town. Port Royal was somewhat of a nightmarish place in the darkness, especially with a heavy and overcast sky with no moon. Any shiver that ran up one's spine could have been instigated by fear or just the howling wind.

For a moment, I admired Alexandra for having the mettle to come out by herself in such a haunting atmosphere. Although I would probably venture out and do the same if I was driven to the point to, on a regular basis, I would not have escaped just to witness the terrible, swallowing darkness of cold, unprotected independence. Nonetheless, I watched from my side of the carriage the empty streets, searching for some confused and frightened face in the black night.

"Stop here," ordered Stephen to the coachman. The horses' hooves stopped, and the carriage came to a halt, and I felt my stomach churn with fear, strangely over nothing. Stephen looked at Roland and me from the other side of the carriage we sat in, his blue eyes bright in the inky darkness. When the footman opened the coach door, Stephen tilted his head to the side, indicating that I should exit first. With a poke from Roland's bony elbow, I hurried out of the door, my feet tapping on the ground as I emerged.

Roland followed after and Stephen exited last, exchanging a few words with the coachman and footman before joining us. "Why did we stop here? This isn't where the church is," said Roland.

"I know," replied Stephen, clearly jarred by Roland's question. "I made them leave us here because if Alexandra saw or heard the carriage coming, she'd flee again. The church is not at all far away, Roland. A simple walk will not do any harm." Roland frowned at Stephen's superiority and unwillingly agreed.

"Shall we go search for her together or separate?" I questioned, considering that Alexandra might not be in the church and that we would have to go back and search for a whole new place to start with. If we divided, there was more chance of finding her faster, but it would also be more likely for us to get lost.

"I see why not," said Stephen, appearing to agree only with me because he could not think of anything for himself. Roland on the other hand quickly disregarded my suggestion.

"Separating won't do any good, Astrid. If all three of us went off in different directions we might get lost." He looked at me when he said that and I grew vaguely aggravated at him for thinking that only I would get lost. "Especially in the dark, with little light to help navigate. I find it rather stupid."

"We'll split up into two groups then," recommended Stephen. "Since you don't think your sister can find her way around town, I'll go with her."

"I think she can find her way just fine without any help, especially from you," retorted Roland. It was already vividly clear that the two had a growing distaste for each other, and I was afraid to be caught in the middle of it. "It's night, and nearly all the shops are shut closed, 'cept maybe for the taverns, and those are dangerous places themselves. If it were daylight, I'd have no problem with her wandering about the streets."

"It is not daylight, Roland, and therefore you are uncertain about your own sister's abilities to find her away around the town she grew up in. Little faith have you in her," Stephen shot back, his face rigidly fixed in spreading irritation.

"Can we just" I began to say, but it appeared as though I did not exist in either of their minds at the moment.

"Who are you to say such a thing?" yelled Roland. "You don't even know her, and you have the nerve to tell me I don't trust her!" I rolled my eyes, not impressed with their boyish behavior. Why must men be so stubborn?

"May I remind you, Roland, who saved you from getting yourself flogged and disgraced on the H.M.S Paramount?" parried Stephen, obviously never going to be defeated by my brother, four years his junior. "Who was it that helped you earn your place as Midshipman?" he continued, making Roland shrink tremendously and shut his mouth closed. "Me, and if it weren't for me, you'd still be called a fairy on that ship." Finally finished with his talk, he pulled smartly at his overcoat, making him seem so high and mighty, but again, I was barely impressed. I feared that they had forgotten why they were out on the streets in the middle of the night anyway. "So what have you to say for yourself?" he asked, looking down mercilessly at my brother. Not even a squeak came from Roland's glued lips. He wasn't going to say another word to him, although I knew he'd save plenty to tell me as soon as Stephen was gone.

"What are we going to do then?" I asked, assured that the two boys would listen to me now. Stephen looked at me, his face surprisingly relaxed again and not so shadowed in abhorrence.

"I'm perfectly fine with your proposal, Miss Turner," he said. "As for Roland"

"All right! We'll split up! You two check the north road over the church and I'll check south. Whoever finishes their search first comes back here, beside the carriage which will stay right where it is until we need to go home. Have I left anything out?" growled Roland, and I simply replied with a "no."

After I shared a not so convincing and honest farewell with Roland, Stephen and I headed up the road, with Roland walking in the opposite direction. I kept my distance from the dashing young Stephen Westley, for my own sake. I continually tried to remind myself that I was quite happy with Adam, a young man only one year older than me and who respected my out of the ordinary behavior. From the side of Stephen I saw in his bicker between Roland, I found him less appealing and found the slight traces of spoiled brattiness that connected him with his despicable sister. He led the way in the darkness, with me trailing not too far behind him. I could always tell that he was in front of me because of his flawless white trousers. They stuck out in the dark like a star in the sky.

We walked in silence for some while, cocking our heads left and right, up and down, to see if Alexandra's familiar figure could be noticed anywhere. We saw nothing but old, empty crates, scattered pieces of slop and waste, and just the closed doors of several shops. "What a glorious scene," I mumbled, hugging myself to stay warm. The air was brisk and the wind was being a brute so that even the many layers of my dress were not enough to stop my shivering.

"If you don't mind my asking," started Stephen, pausing and looking back at me. "Why did you decide to come on this expedition?"

"What harm would another pair of eyes do?" I countered, hating it whenever someone asked why I was anywhere. I was there because I wanted to be. Why couldn't people accept that as an answer and be done with it?

"It's not very ladylike to be searching for someone you hate in the middle of the night. You should be home, resting." I caught up with him and stood beside him, wondering why he was so traditional. Adam never thought that what I did was too different for him. He even joined along sometimes.

"Well, I'm here, so what's the use in complaining? I came along because life at home is far too dull. Nothing ever happens. No adventure." I practically sounded like a stuttering idiot because I spoke through my chattering teeth. I was stupid enough to forget a shawl or at least something to keep me from freezing to death. I hated Port Royal at night.

"Are you well?" inquired Stephen, laying a hand on my quivering shoulder. I nearly melted at his touch. His hand was so warm.

"It's cold," I replied, feeling even more like an idiot because it was already evident that the temperature was very chilling.

"I can see that," he said, taking his hand off my shoulder and stepping away. I moaned inside as my shoulder felt cold again. "Come here," he ordered gently, and I, being fixed into obedience, neared him with little caution. He took off his coat and swung it over my shoulders, and I felt warm not from the coat but more from my burning red face. I took a risk and looked up at him and he smiled pleasantly. Inside all I could tell myself was, "You adore Adam. He is your suitor. You are not looking for another suitor because that is pure madness. Don't want to become a whore, now do we?"

"T-Thank you," I managed to say, still ducking my head away from his glance. Why was I so goddamn shy and nervous around him? I shuddered internally when he slipped a finger under my chin and made me look up at him.

"'Twas nothing, Miss Astrid," he said, an eerie but enchanting twinkle in his eyes.

When the brief moment of charm ended between us, we became our old selves and Stephen continued with his little talk about why I was even with him. "Life is too dull for you, you say?" he said, smirking at the ridiculousness of such an observation. He probably thought I had the mind of a little daydreamy girl. Of course, I most likely did have a mind that was always in the clouds.

"If you saw what I do at home, you'd agree," I answered.

"I guess I will then."

"What?" He continued walking, leaving me standing stupidly by myself, trapped in his lovely coat. He purposefully did that to make sure that I'd follow. "Wait, Stephen!" I yelled, following after him anyway. He turned around to meet me, his feet still moving forward, and I was walking beside him yet again. "What do you mean?"

"I'll come visit you, if it is all right with you and of course, your parents."

"Why would you want to visit me?" He shrugged his shoulders and chuckled.

"Just to watch you, talk with you, things like that." Things like that. I was not so much of a simpleton to believe such a vague expression. He was searching for a courtship. From the details I obtained from his discussion with the Locke children during the last gathering, I discovered that he had courted one of Adam's sisters, but found her too plain. Too plain. My opposite.

"Are you part of the Navy?" I asked, just making sure that he wouldn't be going off on the same ship in the spring that would take Roland away.

"Not anymore. I came onto the ship as a midshipman. And I earned that position myself."

"Of course you did," I said, wanting to steer him away from talking about my brother. "How old are you? Eighteen?"

"Yes." Four years my senior, and what a fine man too. Of course, he'd die first when we were old and that would be a pity. I shook my head. I had thought about a future with Stephen. You're an idiot, Astrid! Remember Adam! Adam! Adam! Adam!

"And you haven't found yourself a lady yet?" I pressed, feeling very much like a coquette. Why was I being so amorous?

"Sadly, no, but I have had my share of courting." For a second, I questioned whether he had un-maidened any damsels he courted. He didn't seem like the man who would, but I knew little about the world of men. To purposefully make me blush, he added, "Why?" And I fell into a world where speech was not fathomable and stupid actions such as dropping a jaw and pulling your hair were common.

"No reason," I hurriedly said, which was a lie. It had become apparent that I was enamored by Stephen Westley. But I like Adam! Not Stephen!

"There are reasons for everything, Miss Astrid." He took my hand gently in his own and brought it to his lips, looking at me with an intent and mystical glare. Under his gaze I grew weak at the knees, looking at him with wide and faintly ecstatic eyes. His face was lit so beautifully in the moonlight. After what seemed like a pleasurable century, his lips left the back of my hand and he resumed his perfect posture, turning around with his hands folded neatly behind his back.

Stricken dumbly by one of Cupid's arrows, I followed after Stephen like a dog with no mind of its own.

At last, he led us to the church, which only had a few fading glows coming from the windows. Knowing it was a holy place, we showed our respect by refraining from running nosily to the front entrance. Stephen knocked softly on the doors, underestimating their thickness, and no reply came. He looked back at me, embarrassed that I had witnessed him being less than perfect before my eyes, and knocked again, harder this time.

"I think they won't be lettin' us in," I said.

"Of course they'll let us in!" he replied getting worked up over the matter. He knocked again, banging the infallible doors of the church with his large fists.

"Stephen, you are disturbing the sanctuary of a church! Stop!" I whispered gruffly into the moving night air. "Perhaps Roland already came here and found her. Let's go back." He didn't need to speak for me to receive his answer. He merely ignored my smart suggestion. At least, I thought it was smart.

"I'm leaving," I said, loud enough for him to hear. "I'm tired and cold and I have a very good feeling that Roland's already at the carriage with Alexandra waiting for us. He prolly thinks I ran off with you or something." That got his attention, and I quickly put my hands to my face to hide my embarrassment. "Out of all things to say," I thought. "I had to say that."

"What?" he asked, his voice rising in shock. "Why would your brother ever think such a thing?" My stupidity drew him away from his task and he looked down at me, the same eerie twinkle in his limpid blue eyes.

"I dunno. He thinks I like every lad I meet," I lied. Sorry, Roland.

"Is it true?" he pushed on, waiting ever so patiently for me to say Yes.

"No."

"Am I one of the lad's who proves your brother's assumption wrong?" he asked boldly. I feared it was too bold. Shaking and clinging onto his coat, I tried to find an answer, of course, without a doubt he'd know the answer was "no" again because of my reluctance to speak. There was no use in lying again, he was no dope and secretly inside he'd know that I liked him if I lied. And if I told him the truth, he'd still be secretly happy with himself to know that I liked him. Curse the courage of men. They always managed to get you to spill everything with their charm. I needed to learn to defeat that one day with my own charm, that is, if I was even at all that charming.

"No," I squeaked, feeling my face burn with hot, internal fire. Just a few moments ago I was colder than a wet dog on a winter's day, and now I was hotter than fire itself. I refused to look at him as I walked away, for I knew he was smiling wickedly at my secret confession. I just followed the road we took, heading back to the place where we started from, but my confession did not make me feel better. Telling Stephen how I thought he was the most handsome thing I had ever seen in my life, next to or in the same place as Adam, gave me a hell of a load of guilt. I betrayed my Adam. Sweet, lovely and funny Adam.