Chloe had expected to have to put on a bit of an act through dinner, but she was surprised to find herself getting quite comfortable in Clark's company. She could tell he was gently pressing her for information, though he never tried to force anything from her. It reminded her a little of when she'd found out Clark's secret. She'd tried to encourage him to be open with her while never trying to force the issue.

They mostly talked about him as they ate; his concerns about his father, how college was going, what the latest news on Pete was.

"You know, you're rather surprising me Clark," she said with her mouth half full of Chinese food, making Clark think of her cousin Lois for just a moment.

"How's that?" he asked, smiling softly.

"You haven't brought up Lana all evening. Have you seen her around lately?"

"Not so much," said Clark, suddenly inspecting the floor. "I didn't ask you round here to talk about her. In fact, I didn't ask you round here to talk about myself non-stop either. I think I've done that enough times since you found out my secret."

They fell into silence after that, Chloe taking the time to consider how best to tell Clark about her recent problems… and exactly how much to tell him. If she laid it on too thick, she knew he would get all overprotective of her. Clark, meanwhile, seemed content to wait patiently for her to open up to him. She knew he blamed himself for the distance that had come between them recently. Probably the best starting point was to make it clear that this was entirely down to her.

Before she could do this, however, she felt her phone vibrating in her pocket. She saw she had a new text message, but didn't recognise the number. Her eyes widened as she read what was on the screen.

'Telling him won't do you any good, you know. I told you to leave me be, and now it's too late. Your fate is about to be determined…'

"What is it Chloe?" asked Clark, leaning forward, concern in his voice. She handed him the phone and he frowned as he read the message.

"Hey, Chloe! Haven't heard from you in awhile. Everything all right? Do you have any plans for the weekend? Maybe we can catch up?" he read aloud. "This is from Lana."

"What? No, Clark, there was a different message… I…"

"Slow down," said Clark, taking her by the arm. "Tell me what's going on. It isn't just me you've pulled away from, is it? It'll be all right, whatever it is. I can't help you if you won't open up to me."

Telling him won't do any good, you know, thought Chloe numbly. I've been following something more terrible than I could ever have dreamed of.

"It's too late," she said, barely even realising she'd spoken aloud.

"No, it isn't. It's never too late. Chloe, after Alicia died I was so alone. I thought that no-one else would ever know what I really am. But you did, and you were there for me whenever I needed you. I haven't been alone since then. Don't shut me out, please. You never have to keep anything from me."

She hadn't put on an act through dinner and now it was too late to start. She began to cry, tears rolling down her cheeks, and Clark held her head to his chest. He couldn't help but feel he'd let her down over the past few weeks. All this time he'd thought this had all been about him. He said nothing, just let her get it all out. He felt her pain. Even though he didn't know what had led her to this, he knew she was feeling a powerful loneliness. He knew how hard it could be to carry some burdens all by yourself. And the longer you did, the harder it became to talk to someone else about them.

When she finally pulled away he found he was still reaching out to her, as if he couldn't bear to let her go. She looked at him then in a way that was entirely unexpected, with a resolve he would rarely expect to see in someone who'd just broken down in front of him. Good, he thought. She hasn't given up, she's going to fight this.

"I'm sorry Clark," she said. "This is something I have to do on my own."

"That's not true…"

"It is. Believe me," she said in a voice that offered no room for argument. She turned away from him, heading down the steps out of the barn. He walked after her quickly.

"Don't do this. You're not thinking straight."

"Don't try to stop me. We both know you can, but not without using your powers. And if you ever use them against me, you know this friendship is over," she said. Clark stopped, hurt at the way Chloe was behaving, rejecting his attempts to help. She stopped at the door and turned to face him. For a moment he thought she had finally come to her senses, but the way she looked at him pained his heart.

"I love you Clark. Remember that," said Chloe, and left, suspecting she would never see him again.

Stephanie could see The Memento was holding a box. She had no idea where he might have been for the past few hours (or minutes?) though she believed she'd heard him outside her room a few times. Unlike the one Lionel had until recently inhabited this one was almost completely furnished. The walls were painted a wonderful sky blue which still did not fail to entice her. Only a small patch in the bottom right corner differed: the wallpaper looked to have been stripped away here (it never occurred to Stephanie that it might never have been there at all). She was sitting on her husband's chair: it offered feelings of comfort even as it indicated his absence. Though she knew right now that absence was for the best. She had kept no secrets from him (well… nothing important surely) or so she once thought. As it turned out there was something left out between them. She just hadn't remembered what it was – until now.

"What's inside?" she asked, as The Memento made to take the lid off. He stopped as he heard her, as if she'd just yelled at him to cease what he was doing, drop it and back away slowly. Then he smiled magnificently at her.

"This box contains my most treasured memories," he told her with a wink. Stephanie nodded at it.

"It's not very large."

"No," he agreed, setting it down on the floor. Stephanie tried to resist the urge to move away from it. She could swear she could hear voices coming from inside.

"Don't open it," she gasped suddenly. She found she could not stop herself from looking at it.

"I won't, so long as you don't open your bowels, Stephanie. Now please, you have nothing to fear from the contents of this box," he said with a hint of impatience.

"No?"

"No, but perhaps I do," he said. The voices from the box made his own seem very quiet somehow. She tore her eyes away from it and looked at The Memento. This was not much of an improvement. She noticed the flesh around his eyes was blood red.

"What do you mean?"

His eyes twinkled mischievously at her.

"I don't know." Then after a pause, "I'm going to let you go now Steph."

There was only one thing she could think of to say to this.

"Really?"

"Truly. You're going to take this box with you."

"No…"

"Oh yes. Be sure to take the utmost care of it, Steph. And best you don't take the lid off. It will try to get you to do so, but I have faith in both your willpower and your fear."

"I can't…"

"If you refuse to take it there will be trouble, I warn you. Right now it may not seem like it, but I am only passively affecting your life. Refuse, and I will take a more active interest."

"Please don't…"

"The memories of your living room are not the only ones I can draw from."

Stephanie sat quietly for a moment. She didn't think refusing this 'man' would get her very far. Not in a positive direction, at any rate.

"Alright," she said at last.

"Good. Then it's settled."

He snatched the box up and, startling her, threw it towards her. She was sure she would be unable to catch it successfully, but she did. The lid threatened to slip off. She placed it back quickly. For now at least, the voices seemed to have stopped. She hoped this would last until it was time to return it.

It was sheer disbelief that kept Chloe from waking up at six in the morning. There was just no way that was the phone she heard ringing, not at this hour. Since she was not really awake she could not see a clock, but her body was happy to tell her it was early. Far too early to be hearing (let alone answering) the phone; she must clearly be dreaming it.

When it started ringing again, some part of her gave in and woke her up. She'd have to go to college soon anyway, if she still had a place there to go back to. With a feeling of dread growing inside her she wondered if this was them now, asking where she'd been before they kicked her off the course. But it was too early for that surely.

"Hello?"

"Ah, Miss Sullivan. I wasn't sure if I'd find you here. You and your roommates don't appear to spend a great deal of time there."

Chloe recognised the voice at once, of course. It was a voice that had tempted her, manipulated her and threatened her over the years. It was the distinctive voice of Lionel Luthor.

"Mr Luthor?" she asked, puzzled and a little nervous. Lionel had appeared to change a little since his time in prison, although his motives were still difficult to figure out.

"Allow me to get right to the point. I managed to read the article you wrote on the suicides. Your writing had come quite a long way, if I say so myself. It was the content itself that appealed to me though. Quite fascinating."

Chloe's heart was pounding; her chest was tightening.

"That article was never published." More than that, only one copy existed… and that was on her own computer.

"I know," said Lionel regretfully. Chloe looked to the door. She hadn't noticed any sign of a break-in when she'd gotten back from Clark's. No obvious sign, anyway. She hadn't been looking for the non-obvious ones. Of course, Lionel Luthor wouldn't leave any…

"You broke into my apartment?"

It sounded as if Lionel puffed out his cheeks then let the air out in an exaggerated sigh.

"I'm afraid so. I needed to see if I'd be wasting my time contacting you. I've seen that it's not, though you're still not as knowledgeable as is ideal."

Thoughts of the break-in quickly faded from Chloe's mind. Lionel knew something about the man she'd been investigating. Careful Chloe, she thought, Lionel probably sits down and drinks tea with him.

"It's rather an old article," said Chloe slowly.

"Yes. I did also find your journal, though I didn't have much time to look through it. And I thought it rather rude just to take it."

Chloe, absurdly, found herself blushing. Her journal contained more than just information about the mysterious figure – it contained things that were personal, damn it. Fortunately she'd had the sense not to write anything about Clark in it. Or at least, not about Clark's secret. Her feelings for Clark were made quite plain, repeatedly. It was no real news to Lionel though; hadn't he used that very knowledge against her in the past? She noted absently that he would have seen the dishes from two days ago still laying by the sink. Just one of many student privileges.

"I've noticed you never address this interesting fellow by name," Lionel continued.

"I'm not even sure it has one."

"Oh, it does. I don't know if this is it's true name, but it likes to call itself 'The Memento'."

Chloe almost dropped the phone.

"What?" she asked, though she'd heard perfectly. "You haven't… you wouldn't happen to have met him, would you?"

A brief pause on the other end. "I've had the pleasure."

"Look, I have some questions I'd like to ask you…" Chloe suppressed a small shiver. Lionel Luthor had given plenty of interviews in his time, but she doubted he'd ever been asked questions quite like the ones she had in mind. If she ever submitted it to The Daily Planet, it would probably be given the headline 'Luthor loses marbles'.

"And I you. I'd like to do this in person, if possible? This morning? Or do you have a class?"

Lionel surely couldn't have read some of her more recent journal entries too closely. That or he kept the fact that he knew she'd been skipping them to himself.

"No, that's not a problem. When and where?"

"The Chambers Hotel, on the other side of town. Just come as soon as possible. Do you know how to find it?"

"Yes, no problem. I'll be there shortly."

She terminated the call and fetched her jacket from the closet. Pausing for a moment, she considered how Lionel had come to know about her interest in the first place. How could he have known? And did he now know just how deep her need for information was? 'The Memento' had warned her to stay away, and now here was Lionel trying to pull her in deeper than ever. Had he been looking for something about Clark, and now found something else of interest? Or was she walking into a trap?