A/N: Happy New Year everyone! I sincerely didn't expect to take this long in updating, but life has been very stressful and draining lately. Between stress from work, applying to jobs, and living through another lockdown, it's been a lot. Winter is tough in general, but it's been even tougher this year. I hope you all are hanging in there.

I hope this chapter will provide a much needed escape from all of that and whatever else you may be experiencing, so read on and enjoy! :)

Chapter 54: While You Weren't Sleeping

Good morning Upper East Siders. Or is it? While most of us might be pressing the snooze button a bit longer on this dreary February morning, it looks Bart Bass rolled over on the wrong side of the bed. Word has it that criminal trials can have that effect on people.

"All rise. Court is now in session."

Bart buttoned his suit as he stood, an unconscious habit. He picked it up from the observation of others when he first started working as a trader and begun sitting in his first business meetings. It was a slight action that indicated an important sign that you not only belonged in the business world, but you were ingrained in it. From the way he walked, to the briefcase he carried, Bart absorbed these details until they became as unconscious as breathing.

Judge Williams appeared in his black robe and took his seat at the judge's bench.

"Please be seated."

Bart unbuttoned his suit coat. He took a seat, the wooden chairs and benches behind him creaking. He sat up, back straight against the grooves of the wooden chair, feet firmly planted on the floor.

"Good morning everyone. Let's get right to it. Last session we concluded the opening statements from both the state and the defendant, so we will proceed today with the prosecution to present their case. How will the state be presenting their case today?"

"Your Honour," Eloise stood. "We would like to begin with examining a witness."

Bart had resisted the temptation to look behind his shoulder since he walked into the courtroom that morning. He knew that his court room would always be full. He knew that there would be reporters examining his every move and expression. He knew that a lot rested not only on the examinations of evidence, but the way he presented himself.

"And who will be the first witness you will be examining?"

Bart focused on keeping his jaw locked tight, expression blank not bored.

"Douglas Hunter."

"I can't believe you don't have a free period this semester," Dash said to Ozzy during lunch.

"Believe it. I have to take a full course load to get all of the credits I need to graduate."

The new semester had started that week and with it came the adjustment to new schedules. While Dash enjoyed a free period at the end of the day, Ozzy shouldered a full course load that was weighed down with chemistry, calculus, and economics.

Ozzy took a big bite of his sandwich. He wished he could have a free period, but the academic side of his high school career was defined by catch up. Before entering junior year, he was behind most of the kids in their grade. Graduating after this term would finally feel like crossing the finish line after a long marathon.

"So, what are you going to do with your free period?"

"What won't I do?" Dash smirked.

It was reassuring to see Dash in better spirits. He was more like himself the past couple of weeks than he had been in months. He was less withdrawn and more animated. Ozzy hoped this was a sign that Dash was moving forward. For Dash, the new semester presented a fresh start, and Dash appeared to be lining up at the starting line.

Ozzy spotted Catherine strutting towards their table carrying envelops in her hands. Two of the friends he'd seen hang around Evelyn in the fall flanked her.

"Good afternoon boys," Catherine said. "Have a minute?"

Dash didn't respond. His gaze fixed on the black envelops in her hand.

"Yeah," Ozzy said. "What's up."

"Well, as I'm sure you already know, my birthday is coming up this weekend. I'm hosting a party, and you're both invited."

Catherine handed each of them a black envelope. Ozzy's name was written in elegant calligraphy, and there was even a wax seal encrusted on the back flap. Dash and Ozzy opened the invites at the same time.

"You won't want to miss it," Catherine said. She rested her hand on Ozzy's shoulder. "We're going all out. Think of it as a last chance. Last chance to celebrate me during our last semester together. It's going to be at Space 54, and there'll be food, an open bar, poker tables, and other fun games of chance."

"Wow," Dash said. "What are the chances that your party won't be busted this time?"

Ozzy held back a laugh. Last year, Catherine hosted a Valentine's Day party, in which Ozzy distinctly recalled it being busted. He didn't remember much from that night aside from waking up in his bed with Evelyn and Dash watching over him.

"None," She said coldly before turning her attention back to Ozzy. "I hope to see you there."

She smiled at him, her back to Dash, and moved on to the next table to hand out more invites.

While Dash shoved the invite into his binder, Ozzy opened his. The invite was designed like a personalized black and white playing card. The only splash of colour on the invite was a letter Q in the top left and bottom right corners of the card with two glowing red hearts underneath.

"What was that about?" Dash asked.

"What was what?"

"You know. Catherine."

"She invited us to her birthday?"

"Don't play stupid. She's into you."

Ozzy dropped the invite, as if he finally realized he'd brushed against poison ivy.

"No, she's not," Ozzy said.

Dash gave him a pointed look.

"Okay, even if she is, I'm not into her. She knows that. I'm with someone else."

"Not everyone respects those boundaries. Take it from my experience."

Ozzy looked at the invite. Catherine's name on the invite was the only word on the card to sparkle from glitter glue. It was purposeful. A statement.

Dash stood and picked up his things. "All I'm saying is don't make the same mistake I did. No matter what. It's not worth it."

"Can you tell us what you were doing on the night of May 24th, 1993 Mr. Hunter?"

The seams across Douglas Hunter's shoulders were pinched tight, threatening to split. He shifted in his seat, his slicked grey hair as shiny as his forehead. Although he shaved for the occasion, his full cheeks looked shadowed.

"I was working."

"Where did you work?"

"I worked at a local high school in the neighbourhood."

"And what was your job?"

"I was a custodian."

"When would you finish work?"

"After seven."

"Would you come directly home after work?"

"Yes. Most days I'd be out of there at seven, some days, I'd stay longer."

"Did you stay longer on that day?"

"Yes. I stayed until ten. There was a Sadie Hawkin's Dance at the school that night. I got home around ten thirty."

"Where was home for you?"

"366 East 8th Street."

"And that building was right beside Mr. Bass' building?"

"Yes."

"Which floor did you live on?"

"Fourth floor."

"Tell us what happened when you got home that night."

"I got home and fixed myself a ham sandwich. I had a table close to the window, and when I sat to eat, I looked out and saw black smoke."

"What direction was the smoke coming from?"

"It looked like it was rising from the lower floors."

"What did you do when you saw the smoke?"

"I stopped eating. Got a good look out the window and even opened it, so I could smell it. That's when I knew something was burning. I remember smelling gas."

"Did you see any flames?"

"Not yet."

"Did you see anyone around the building at that time?"

"No. Our street was pretty quiet after ten. Well, New York quiet."

"Did you see anyone enter or leave the building?"

"No."

"What did you do next?"

"I used my landline to call 911."

"What did you do after you made the call?"

"I watched from my window and waited. The smoke got thicker, and I heard the sirens coming, so I went outside to get a better view of what was happening, and also help the firefighters when they arrived."

"What did you see when you stepped outside?"

"I saw the flames gulping the windows on the bottom three floors of the building. A couple cars slowed down and asked me if I needed help."

"How many cars passed?"

"Two that I can remember. I told them I had called for help and was waiting. Two firetrucks appeared a couple minutes later."

"So, it all happened very fast?"

"Yeah. It felt slow when I was waiting, but the fire got worse very fast."

"When you went outside, did you smell the gas you said you smelled earlier?"

"Yes."

"Was it more potent or less?"

"About the same."

"What did you tell the fire fighters?"

"I told them that I called. They asked if I knew if anyone was in the building. I said I didn't because I didn't think anyone lived in it at the time. It had some fencing around it for construction."

"Did you see anyone try to escape the building?"

"No."

"Did you see anyone around the premises of the building at any time that evening?"

"No."

"But you smelled the smoke and gas. Did that worry you?"

"Well, yes. For all I knew, there could have been a gas leak and the whole building could have exploded and levelled half of our block."

"Did you think there was foul play?"

Frank stood up. "Objection your honour. Leading question."

"Sustained."

Eloise finished her pacing. "What did you think happened?"

"I didn't think. I was just concerned that there could have been people trapped in the building or that the damage would spread to my building."

"Was anyone trapped?"

"None that I could see or was later told."

"Did you check the back entrance in the loading area?"

"No."

"So, you were only able to see the fire from your apartment and the front of the building?"

"Yes."

"So, it's possible that you wouldn't have been able to see someone leave if they used the back entrance."

Frank stood again. "Objection your honour, speculation."

"Overruled."

Eloise asked the question again.

"Yes, that's possible," Douglas said.

"Did the firefighters know to check the back entrance as well as the front?"

"I don't know. I didn't suggest that they check it."

"Where did you see them enter the building?"

"The front entrance. Some stayed back to start using the hose to tamp down the fire."

"Is there anything else that you remember from that night?"

Douglas paused. He shifted in his seat, readjusting his leg. "No."

Eloise turned to the judge. "No further questions."

Blair arrived at the Waldorf-Astoria's Bull and Bear restaurant early. She sat at her favourite white linen clad table, the one that faced the window. The restaurant was regal and cozy with wood paneling and tables that were hidden like a private alcove. Blair thought it was the perfect place to set the tone for her meeting.

Blair pulled out her compact to check her makeup. She dabbed her Chanel red lipstick to the creases of her mouth. Her phone buzzed on the white linen. It was another call from Chuck. She ignored it.

Everything was right on schedule with the only glaring omission being the guest of honour: Jack Bass.

The waiter arrived to top off her glass of ice water. "Are we still waiting for your party, Miss?"

"Yes," Blair said sharply. "He's just running late."

A few minutes later, Blair felt a cold hand graze her upper back.

"Sorry to have kept you waiting. My meeting went over time," Jack said.

Blair sat up in her chair and smirked. It was showtime.

"And here I thought you were looking forward to this lunch. I was five minutes away from thinking you weren't going to show."

Jack unbuttoned his suit jacket and pulled his club chair closer to the table. "No need to be so hasty. Business doesn't wait."

"And you expect everyone else to wait for you?" Blair said.

Jack shrugged and opened the leather-bound menu. "Well, yeah."

Blair rolled her eyes. It didn't matter which Bass she talked to. They all were the same. Self-important and egotistical.

"Typical," Blair scoffed before taking a sip of water.

Blair's phone buzzed on the table. Blair picked it up, scoffed, and muted the call. She dropped the phone screen down on the table.

Jack watched her intently. "Are you going to answer that?"

Blair averted his eyes. "No."

Her phone started ringing again.

"It seems like someone is really trying to get a hold of you."

Blair checked the screen and rolled her eyes. "This someone isn't getting the message that I'm not interested."

"Let me guess, my nephew?"

Blair picked up her phone and shoved it in her purse. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have had my phone on the table in the first place. It was rude. I'll just turn my phone off."

"Why is he calling you?"

"Don't worry about it."

"Blair, you can talk to me about it if this is distressing you."

Blair made a show of looking torn, and what she hoped looked scared and vulnerable. She fiddled with the napkin ring on her plate.

"Chuck can't seem to accept that it's over. He's been calling me, following me, and practically stalking me."

"Have you blocked his number on your phone?"

"Twice," Blair said. "I'm considering changing my phone number."

"That might be necessary," Jack said. "And is it really…over?"

"Yes," Blair said without hesitation. "I just really want to move on. I didn't realize how much of my life was monopolized by Chuck's needs, and now I just want to focus uninterrupted, on mine."

"Take it from someone who's lived longer," Jack said. "You always have to put your needs first. You'll be a shell of a person if you don't."

"I suppose you have a point," Blair said.

"I usually do," Jack smirked and sipped his water. His expression turned serious. "If there's anything I can do to help, let me know."

"Thanks, but I thought it was me who owed you the favour after that…incident."

Jack smirked. "While I was slightly offended that you seemed to aim for my Armani shoes, it's fine. Really. We've all found ourselves in that position at least once in our lives."

"And for those who haven't'?"

"Then they haven't been living."

Jack revealed a mischievous smile that was all too familiar and eerie. It was daring and mysterious, the promise of a story that he alluded to but didn't say. It was so overpowering that Blair had to look away from him to regroup and prevent even the slightest crack from becoming visible on her veneer.

"I guess they haven't," Blair agreed. "Maybe I haven't been living enough either."

"Blair, answer me! I know you're avoiding me, but I won't stop calling until you answer! We. Need. To. Talk," Chuck said as he tossed Nate's baseball in the air.

Chuck was lying on the couch, his slipper clad feet propped up on the coffee table. He tossed the ball in the air and caught it easily over and over.

"Do you really think you can just walk away from this? From us? You had everything with me, and you're not going to get that anywhere else." Chuck continued to toss and catch the baseball, his body relaxed, his voice hoarse.

"This isn't over, okay? We aren't over," Chuck said and hung up.

Nate appeared with his gym bag slung over his shoulder.

"Confused Nathaniel?"

"I heard you yelling from the other room. I thought you were drunk."

Chuck smirked. "A fair assumption."

"Is everything okay?"

"There's nothing to worry about, Nathaniel. I was just leaving a message for Blair."

"You guys still haven't worked things out?"

"Oh, we worked things out."

"That's what working things out sounds like?"

Chuck smirked. When he worked with Blair, he often forgot how most people didn't operate at the same pace as they did. Nate included.

"What you heard was us executing a plan."

"I'm not following."

"In order to get Jack removed at Bass Industries, we need to get closer to him. He presented an opportunity when he approached Blair. Now, she's getting closer to him, so we can find something to use against him and hopefully have him fired from Bass Industries."

"So, you're working together, but you're not together together to make sure this plan works?"

"Yes."

"And you asked Blair to court your Uncle?"

"No. She suggested it."

"And you're okay with that?"

"What's with the twenty questions, Nathaniel?"

"It just sounds like you guys are playing with fire."

"Nathaniel, please. We know what we're doing."

"And Jack doesn't?"

"Thanks for the vote of confidence."

"Chuck, come on. Jack isn't an amateur. He's probably going to suspect that Blair will be working with you."

"Why do you think I'm spamming Blair's voicemail? The first step is to prove him wrong. We need to convince him that we're not together anymore and then Blair can gain his trust."

Nate shook his head. "How far do you and Blair need to go to prove that?"

Chuck shrugged. "As far as needed."

"Look, I'm not here to lecture you or Blair what to do with your scheming. Not that you'd listen to me anyway." Nate readjusted the strap of his gym bag. "Just be careful and try not to let this ruin the trust you have with each other. Jack and Bass Industries are not worth it."

Chuck fumbled the baseball, and it dropped on the wooden floor. It began to roll away from him and towards the windows.

Evelyn sat at one of the computer terminals in the library that afternoon. Since it was the start of the semester, the library was deserted. It made the perfect spot to plot how she could finally get rid of her rivalry with Catherine for once and for all.

"Are you sure about this?" Eric said from the computer terminal beside her. "Is taking down Catherine Baizen by any means necessary such a good idea?"

"Eric. You know this is a last resort. Do you want to spend the rest of your senior year in fear?"

"Well, no—"

"Then we need to do something. We just started our last semester of high school, and we already have enough to stress about with the trial going on. We don't need Catherine to harass us at any chance she gets."

"But what's your plan after you take her down? Are you planning on ruling again?"

Evelyn hadn't given much thought on whether taking down Catherine would mean she would take the throne again. She was so focused on how she could finally get rid of Catherine that she didn't see beyond it. Evelyn didn't see the point in planning for something that wasn't certain yet.

"I'll decide if that moment comes."

Evelyn opened a web browser and typed the Baizen family name. Whatever she could get on Catherine had to be good. It had to be something she could blackmail her with, something that would threaten what she wanted most. Where could she find such a thing?

"if only there was a way to see if her family had skeletons in their closet," Evelyn said. Gossip was speculation, and Evelyn needed something more concrete.

"Maybe our parents would know more about that," Eric said. "They all know each other and have been involved or bared witness to each other's scandals over the years."

"Do you think your mom would know?" Evelyn said.

"Maybe," Eric shrugged. "If anything, I think your dad would know more from his files."

"His files?"

Eric's eyes widened. "Oh. It's nothing."

"Eric, what files?"

Eric hesitated, unsure if he wanted to get any more involved on the topic.

"There you are," Ozzy said as he weaved through the study tables.

Evelyn closed her web browser and started shutting down her computer. Eric did the same.

"I thought we were going to meet up in the courtyard?" Ozzy said.

"I'm sorry," Evelyn said while packing up her backpack. "Eric and I were just talking about the trial. We figured the library was a quiet place."

"Did something happen?"

"For now, nothing," Eric said. "Tomorrow, who knows?"

Evelyn zipped up her bag and slung it over her shoulder. "What's up?"

"I received an invitation to a birthday today," Ozzy said.

"Who's birthday?"

Ozzy presented a crumpled black envelope with his name on it. "Catherine's," He said. "Did you get one?"

"No, I didn't," Evelyn said. "But that's not much of a surprise. Eric, did you get an invite?"

Eric nodded. "I did right after last period."

"So, everyone in our grade but me is invited. Great."

"We don't have to go," Ozzy said. "I don't really care either way."

Evelyn opened the envelope. She studied the crisp calligraphy, the date, the time, and the sparkles stuck to her fingers.

"Actually, I think we should," Evelyn said slowly. She put the invitation back in its envelope methodically.

"Really?" Ozzy said.

"Why not? It's senior year, and I can come as your plus one, can't I?"

"But you guys don't like each other. At all," Ozzy said.

Evelyn considered this to be a moment she could tell Ozzy why she wanted to go. It wasn't because she wanted to let bygones be bygones. It wasn't because she wanted to take every last opportunity of high school before it's all over. It was because there was no better occasion to take down Catherine for once and for all.

But how could she tell him any of that? It wouldn't sound good, and she doubted Ozzy would approve. From Evelyn's perspective, Ozzy seemed to have a soft spot for Catherine, and it bothered her.

What little Ozzy knew about this scheme couldn't hurt him. It didn't affect him at all anyway.

"That's true," Evelyn said. "But I'm willing to put the past behind us."

Eric looked incredulous but kept his gaze down. Ozzy just looked more perplexed.

"Okay," Ozzy said, sounding out each letter. "I guess we'll go then."

A smooth layer of ice shimmered from the duck pond Blair used to visit when she was little. Dorota would escort her with a paper brown bag tucked under her arm, her pressed uniform creaseless.

It was a simple memory Blair didn't indulge in often. When she did, Blair recalled how Dorota would hand her the brown package, trusting Blair to know what to do with it. With some initial encouragement, Blair would tear hunks of bread and throw them at the ducks. If they so much as looked her way or quack, she'd throw a chuck at them, usually missing.

Eventually, the ducks got smarter and Blair more confident. The ducks knew that the brown package contained bread, so they circled Blair, who held the packaged bread, usually a crusty boule, close to her chest. When she was ready, she would decide how big a piece each duck got and when. What once terrified her gave her a thrill.

Today, the ducks were far away. They had flown south for the winter months ago, and Blair was without her bread.

Although she didn't have a loaf in her arms, she now found a new approach. She sprinkled breadcrumbs as she walked that were so small, only her companion would notice them.

"So, this is your favourite spot?" Jack asked.

"One of them."

"Out of how many?"

"A few," Blair said. "I've lived in New York my whole life, and I've visited Central Park more times than I can count. You find your places after a while, and once you tire over those, you take a different path and discover new ones too."

"Really? And here I thought that everyone got lost in Central Park at least once."

"I haven't, so that doesn't make everyone."

"Of course, you haven't," Jack said. "You always known where you're going don't you?"

"Yes, I have," Blair said. "Until recently."

"Really? You couldn't decide between a baguette or a brioche?"

"No. I haven't firmly known where I'm going in life just recently."

"Your first time?"

"Yes."

"Nauseating isn't it?"

"With a touch a dizziness," Blair said. "I always wanted to follow in my dad's footsteps and be a lawyer. I'd go to Yale for my undergrad and law degree. Once I didn't get into Yale, that all changed."

"You go to Columbia, right? That's a fine school."

"It is," Blair said. "But I'm not sure if I want to pursue law anymore."

It was a thought she had been wrestling with since she started writing for Liz's Closet. Her passions for both fashion and the law were beginning to compete, and if she had to sacrifice one to make enough time for the other, Blair wasn't sure which one would be sacrificed.

"Did something else capture your passion lately?"

"Not lately exactly. I've always loved fashion. My mom is a fashion designer of course. I just never thought about pursing it because I wasn't a designer like my mom."

"But there's a path now that you've just discovered."

It was a very treacherous path filled with bits of gravel that was as sharp as broken glass, but a path, nonetheless.

"Yes."

Blair didn't know where this was coming from. Here she was trying to persuade Jack that she could be trusted, and she was spilling her most vulnerable career worries with him.

Jack touched her arm with his leather gloved hand. "I think that when things surprise you like that, you've got to pursue it. If you don't, you'll always be left wondering and resenting."

"Is that advice you actually abide by?"

"Yes, actually."

Blair's phone began to buzz. She sighed, making a big, overwrought expression of annoyance. She looked at her phone, and her annoyed expression dropped. It was Joy asking if she'd meet her there for this week's meeting for the pre-law society.

"I take it, it's not my nephew this time."

"No. It's my roommate," Blair said. "I have to go actually. I have a meeting."

Blair led the way out of Central Park and to her waiting car.

"I have to say, I rather enjoy your company Blair."

"You company didn't offend me as much as I thought it would."

Jack smirked. "We should do it again sometime."

Bingo. She had thrown out the bait, and now she had a Bass, hooked.

"That will depend. Would you actually show up on time?"

"I will give you the courtesy of a text to let you know if I'm running behind next time."

It was time to reel him in while giving enough distance to make him want more.

"We'll see if you're right."

Blair got in the car as Jack watched her car pull away from the curb. Blair turned to her phone, sent a quick text to Chuck to proceed to the next phase of their plan, and sat back in her seat, sighing happily.

A couple blocks later, a white van peeled away from the curb and began following the car.

After dinner that evening, Evelyn wandered up to her father's study. She knocked on the door, and he looked up from his three-inch binder.

"Evelyn," He closed the file and sat back in his chair. "Done your homework already?"

"Yes, but that's because it was the first day of semester. I have a question for you," Evelyn said. "Do you know anything about the Baizens?"

"Why of course. We've gone back many years. Why?"

"With everything that's been going on with the trial, it just made me wonder if other families have…culpable pasts."

"I would tend to believe so. There's a lot of responsibility that comes with having lots of money. It all gets complicated after a while."

"Speaking from your own experience?"

"Speaking from my own experience," he nodded.

"Do you know anything about the Baziens past?"

"Not too much. Most dealings are kept quiet, and the Baizens are philanthropists. They've done a lot of good for the city."

"But that could be a front, can't it?"

Her father smirked. "If a career in sciences doesn't work out, you should consider investigative reporting."

"Is there?"

"I don't know. What I do know is this. A couple years ago, the Baizens were in trouble."

Evelyn's ears perked up. "What did they do?"

"It's not necessarily what they did. It's what their son Carter did."

Evelyn felt a rush of heat flush through her at the mention of him. "Not his sister, Catherine?"

"Not that I know of. I do remember the Baizens being very thrilled when their son Carter was engaged to an heiress of a wealthy oil rig family in Texas. I think their name was Buckley. He left her at the altar and took a sizeable amount of money from her to travel the world. Some think he was after the money, others thought he was after the family business. They don't speak of Carter anymore."

"Why would he get engaged to someone and just abruptly left her?"

"I don't know," her father said.

It was a strange story. Carter meets and gets engaged to this Texan girl, and then abruptly leaves her? There were pieces missing,

"He just disappeared?"

"My understanding is that he comes back to the city when he needs a top up."

Evelyn wondered if the Buckley's were still angry about Carter. If they held a grudge against him for pulling that stunt on one of their own. Perhaps a phone call would be in order to clear things up.

"How do you know all this?" Evelyn asked.

"People talk," Her father said. "I don't know many details because frankly, I don't care, but Lily usually knows what's going on."

"You seemed to know more than a little about the Baizens," Evelyn said.

"That was mere coincidence."

Evelyn thought back to the files Eric mentioned. Could her father have information on the Baizens to know what was going on with them? The idea unsettled Evelyn. It even frightened her some, but she wasn't content to just wonder.

"Do you have a file on them?" Evelyn asked.

"File?"

"Eric said you have files on people. Do you have one on the Baizens?"

"Of course not. Evelyn, that's a ridiculous accusation."

"Eric didn't seem to think so," Evelyn said. "What files do you have?"

The pre-law society meeting ended early for once. Blair, who was used to the spontaneous debating that would break out when discussing dates and locations of the next event they were planning, was surprised and pleased at this development. At least one of her commitments was under control.

"Latte for Blair?"

Blair picked up her hot drink from the barista. She added one packet of raw sugar and stirred.

"I'm really glad we found consensus on where we'll have our end of year gala," Joy said. She fiddled with the string of her tea bag, eventually tucking it into the sleeve of her cup.

"Tell me about it. If enough people voted to host our gala at the Faculty House, I would have motioned for an appeal," Blair said.

"And I would have seconded it. What was Thomas thinking?"

"He was thinking of saving our reserve for when he becomes president next year," Blair said. "And he was foiled."

Joy took a sip of her tea. "Narrowly."

They walked across campus to the library, chatting about their classes when Blair's phone rang. Blair looked at her phone.

It was Jack.

"Miss me already?"

"I'm giving you notice like you asked. What are you doing this Friday?"

"I don't know yet. Why do you ask?"

"I have tickets for this art show open at the Tanya Banakdar Gallery. I have to attend for work, and I was wondering if you'd like to come along and explain it to me."

"There's nothing to explain. Art is all about interpretation."

"Well, then you can interpret the art for me."

A typical Bass response. Instead of working to learn a new skill, they opted to buy it to have it ready made immediately.

"Who's the artist?"

"Sarah Sze?" Jack sounded out her last name with uncertainty.

"Hm. She was profiled in the New Yorker recently, wasn't she?"

"I'll take your word for it."

Blair mashed her lips together. "Alright. I'll come and show you how to interpret art."

"Give it your best shot," Jack said. "I'll pick you up at seven."

Blair hung up and smiled to herself. Joy looked at her curiously.

"Who was that?"

"Someone you don't know."

"Does Chuck know about it?"

"Of course, he does," Blair said. "Don't give me that worried look. I know what I'm doing."

Joy was unconvinced. She opened the door to the library, and said, "I hope so."

Like many parents who were thrown off guard by a question posed from their child, Bart did what he could to buy himself more time to think of how we wanted to respond to Evelyn's accusation. He asked a counter question.

"How did this come up in conversation with Eric exactly?"

"W-we…were just talking about the trial… and were wondering if any other families have gone through something like this."

After the first stutter, Bart understood that he caught his daughter in a lie. An unconvincing one.

"Why do you really want to know more about the Baizen's?"

"You haven't answered my question first," Evelyn said. "Tell me about the files."

They were at a stalemate. Both were unwilling to concede their true motives for this conversation but pointed their questions like arrows at each other. It was too late for Bart to further deny the files. He had a houseful of people who knew about them. He had to lower his weapon.

"What you first need to understand is that these files only concerned family," Bart said. "So if you're thinking that I have anything on the Baizens collecting dust in a file, you are sadly mistaken."

"Okay," Evelyn said slowly. "What were the files for then?"

"They were used as a measure for protection."

"I don't understand. What would we need protection from?"

Bart wanted to say, 'from yourselves', but he knew that would only incite incredulous anger.

"Before you moved to New York, I had files collated for each of us in our family. They included things like news stories I would buy to avoid being published in the tabloids, to bank statements to monitor your brother's spending habits."

"So…you had people spying on us?"

"It wasn't spying—"

"Then what would you call that? You were monitoring our whereabouts? Did you have someone follow us to and from school? Bug our rooms and God knows what else?"

"Absolutely not."

Evelyn raked her fingers through her scalp. "So, this means you had a file on me all these years? That's what Eric meant?"

"Your Aunt and I weren't always on the best of terms."

"So, that was your Plan B on knowing what was happening in my life? This is insane."

Bart rubbed his temple. He felt a tension headache start to set in. This was not how he thought this conversation would go.

"Evelyn, you have to understand that there are always people watching and wanting to tear us down at any opportunity outside these walls. It was important to protect our family privacy from the public."

"You protected our privacy? You invaded our privacy. If you were being so noble about protecting us, why didn't you ask us first instead of after you got caught?"

"I'm sorry. The files were something I used years ago. I haven't even looked at one in years."

"Is that supposed to make me feel better? Why do this in the first place? Didn't you trust that we'd make our own decisions?" Evelyn's shoulders slumped at a realization. "You don't trust us."

"I never said that."

"You didn't have to. Your need for files is proof enough."

"Well…" Bart paused. He tried to find some sort of come back, a reassurance, something. All he had was, "You don't trust me either."

"I did," Evelyn's voice cracked. "I did trust you." Evelyn rubbed her hands over her eyes and sighed. "If everyone found out about the files but me, I guess that means I was the only one who did."

Evelyn left his office without another word. He didn't call after her. He didn't stoop low enough to plead for forgiveness. He was too proud and stubborn for that. But any last hope, last strand of respect his daughter may have had in him snapped, and although he hadn't gone for a run since the summer, he felt winded.

Evelyn slammed her door and collapsed on her bed. She rolled over, pulled the nearest pillow over her face, and let out a frustrated groan.

Her father's suspicious shouldn't surprise her. Not now. Her father was on trial for arson and murder for God sake.

And yet, it did. It wounded her, punctured her deep in the chest.

How much more disappointed could she be? How much more of his lying could she take? She didn't know what to think anymore much less feel.

Evelyn's phone buzzed on her bed. She rolled onto her side and checked the phone ID: MOM.

Evelyn grumbled, but perked herself up as she answered. "Mom? How nice of you to call."

"Is this a bad time?" Kate asked.

It was a bad time, but it would be worse if she kept dwelling on it.

Evelyn sat up; her voice low. "No. Now's fine."

"Good. You said you were ready to strike, so what are you thinking?"

Evelyn sighed. "Well, I was thinking we could do something at Catherine's birthday party on Friday."

"Like what?"

Evelyn rubbed her eyes. "I just discovered that there's this family in Texas called the Buckleys that are after Catherine's brother."

"The Buckleys, right. That's the girl's family he stood up at the altar, right?"

"How'd you know?"

"It was big news the summer before starting high school for me. That would mean the summer after freshman year for Catherine. Haven't heard much since."

"For good reason. Apparently, Carter's been hiding out from the Buckleys. I think they want to get even for what he did."

"Loveit. How War of the Roses."

"Um yeah. I was thinking that if we reach out to them, perhaps say that Catherine could lead them to Carter, then that could start something up at her birthday party."

"Loving it."

"Really?"

"Well, yes. It's giving her a taste of her own medicine. Besides, we don't know how complicit Catherine is with lettering her brother get away with stuff, so this could hit two birds with one stone."

"They don't seem very close," Evelyn said.

"They don't have to be. Whatever's mutually beneficial overrides how much they actually like or loathe each other."

"That's a good point."

"Exactly. So, call the Buckley's and see if they're in for revenge. Then what?" Kate said.

"I'm not sure yet. Depends on if the Buckley's are in or not. Can you call them? If they say yes, invite them to Catherine's birthday party, and I'm sure there will be a scene there."

"Of course."

"Thanks, Kate."

"What are friends for?"

After a couple days of examining Douglas Hunter's account, the prosecution team continued to present their case. Eloise took the lead with command and poise and turned the jury's attention to another piece of evidence.

She rolled out a long vellum paper over top of the glass of an overhead projector. The paper was full of black blurry lines. Eloise cranked the dial to bring the paper into focus, revealing a set of the building's blueprints.

As the paper became clear, Bart felt everything freeze inside him. He had not seen blueprints for the building in seventeen years. He didn't think a set of blueprints for the building existed. Bart gripped the arm of his chair.

Frank leaned close to his ear and whispered. "Are these identical to the set of blueprints for the building before the fire?"

Bart nodded.

"Did you know they existed?"

"No."

Frank's chair creaked as he leaned forward to see the projection. Frank squinted his eyes while his pen poked his stubby cheek.

"Today, I am presenting another piece of evidence to the jury," Eloise began. "These are the blueprints for the building before the fire. After the building was assessed and repaired, changes were made to the building, which can make it difficult to retrace our steps in the case. As we learned from Douglas Hunter as well as toxicity reports from the police's initial investigation, the smoke from the fire was coming from the lower levels of the building."

Eloise lifted the blueprints and replaced them with a photocopy of the police investigation report. "As we can see, the fire was originally ruled out as an electrical malfunction on the second floor."

Eloise swapped the report with the blueprints. "Now, we can see here that the building was designed in the late 1970s, so the codes and standards for electrical work hadn't changed drastically. It is conceivable that the fire was therefore not started due to an electrical malfunction but instead was intentional."

"Objection, your honor. Hearsay."

"Overruled."

"If we look at the blueprints, we can see that if the fire was started on the second floor that there was a quick way to escape the building. As we discovered earlier this week, Douglas Hunter only saw the fire from the front side of the building. Here, we can see that there was a back entrance to the building. The back entrance had a loading area that cut behind the other buildings and to the next street, East 9th Street."

"I bring up this piece of evidence so the jury can have a visual understanding of building and its surroundings. From the police report, and Douglas' testimony, the firefighters and officers who investigated the site have only given us one side view of the building and consequently the case. This piece of evidence has been submitted for the jury to review."

Judge Williams swiveled his leather chair toward the jury. "To clarify, this means that this piece of evidence, as well as all pieces of physical evidence, will be at your disposal once the case has been presented and deliberations have begun." He swivelled his chair back to face Eloise. "Is there anything else you'd like to add."

"No, your honor, but I do plan to return to it once when questioning other witness testimonies."

"And that's well within your right to do so. If that's the end of that exhibit presentation, then we will adjourn for today, and return on Monday."

As Bart took a sip of his water, his hand had a slight tremble. The cool water doused his parched mouth, and when he swallowed the water, he felt his throat constricting.

Bart watched Eloise roll up the blueprints, wishing he could snatch them and burn them until there was nothing, but ashes left. For years, Bart had lived in the ashes, had only ashes to build his life on. Now, these ashes were on full display, and Eloise continued to spread them into a picture, an interpretation from the excavated relics of his past, where the slightest breeze was capable of distorting it.

"All rise."

As Bart rose and buttoned his suit jacket, he watched the blueprints were carried away until they disappeared, out of reach.

On Friday evening, Blair and Jack arrived at the Tanya Banakdar Gallery. The white walls and exposed pipes that hung from the ceiling were in line with many galleries Blair had frequented in New York before. But what stood out to Blair the most was the gallery's two-story high installations. Everyday items such as lamps, milk cartons, cans, water bottles, ladders, and fans were mixed with hand-crafted objects including bugs, fish, shoes, and cinder blocks.

Blair stopped by the most ambitious installation of them all called The Uncountables (Encyclopedia). Hundreds of objects were displayed on tilted shelves, angled boards, and skewed planks. Desk lamps shone a bright light on the objects, making the installation feel like a cross between a science lab and a fun house.

"Alright interpreter," Jack said. "Explain this one to me."

Blair craned her neck at the tall installation and slowly weaved her way around it, marking a languid circle.

"It's about time, movement, and navigation," Blair said. "See how when we keep walking around a piece, it starts to look different?"

"It all looks like junk to me."

Blair rolled her eyes. "Try stepping out of the kiddy pool and into the shallow end, Jack. Look closer. The shelves look sturdy, right? But if you look at it from behind, you'll notice that the shelves are wobbling, clinging on to the wire."

Jack squinted. "I'll take your word for it."

"It's disorienting," Blair said. "Everything is so precariously setup, and you can't help but wonder if it'll all collapse and comes crashing down, destroying all of these pieces that are meticulously displayed with it."

"Okay..."

"And yet, everything still holds, intact. Each object is familiar, but the way she's presenting it is alienating. The spotlight pieces demands your attention, all of them competing for your attention at the same time."

Jack slow clapped three times, the sound echoing off the tall walls and ceiling.

"What are you doing?" Blair hissed through a forced smile at the other patrons who glared at them.

"Applauding you, obviously. You really know what you're talking about."

"Well, you don't need to applaud anything. You asked for a guide, and I delivered."

"That you did. Can I thank you with a drink from the bar?"

"Yes."

Blair snuck a peak at her watch and smiled at herself. It was almost time for another work of art to take effect.

Once at the bar, an older white-haired couple appeared. "Jack?"

"Doris. Steve. This is my friend Blair, who has a keen interest in art."

"Pleasure to meet you," Blair said and shook their hands.

"We're so glad you came, Jack," the woman said. Blair marvelled at her emerald tortoise shell brooch on her cashmere sweater.

"What do you think of Sze's work?"

"Fascinating. She's really captured the juxtaposition between feeling familiarity and alienation in her showcase. I really felt it."

Blair resisted the urge to roll her eyes.

"I told Steve the same thing. She's such an up-and-coming artist. A fresh perspective we could all learn from."

"If you'll excuse us," Steve said. "Our friend, Tommy is flagging us down in distress."

"Oh dear," Doris said, clutching onto Steve's arm. "We should have known to keep him away from the brandy."

Once they left, Blair turned to Jack. "Familiarity and alienation? Really."

"Hey, this is why I needed your help tonight. Consider that a test for what you just taught me. I passed, didn't I?"

Blair put her clutch on the bar counter. "No. You failed due to plagiarism."

"Hey, it did the job."

The bartender appeared and Jack ordered a scotch. Blair ordered a dry martini.

"Who were those people, anyway?" Blair asked.

"Steve's a board member for Bass Industries. He's been bugging me for months to come out to one of these art shows that his wife serves on the board for. It's important to her."

"And because it's important to them, it's important to you," Blair said.

"You're a quick learner."

The bartender reappeared with their drinks. Jack lifted his glass and said, "How about you don't make me wear your drink this time?"

"I can't make any promises."

As Blair took a sip of her drink, she noticed a familiar, dark figure in the corner of her eye. She locked eyes with Jack, fluttered her lashes, and tried to give him a coy smile.

But as she planned, Jack's attention was no longer on her.

It was on Chuck.

C making a big display of PDA. And he's pretty, damn angry.

When Evelyn and Ozzy arrived at Catherine's birthday party on Friday night, Evelyn felt like an unopened can of soda that had been dropped on the floor.

"You okay?" Ozzy asked as they waited in line.

"Of course. Why wouldn't I be?"

"I dunno. You just seem on edge."

They glided past the velvet rope where Sera stood with a deck of cards. She fanned them out for Evelyn and Ozzy to pick from while side eyeing Evelyn.

"What's this for?" Evelyn asked.

"We're having a raffle. Everyone will draw a card from this deck, and whoever gets chosen later on in the night will win a prize."

"What's the prize?" Evelyn asked.

"It's a surprise. Think of it as picking a chance card on the monopoly board."

Evelyn drew a card. Lila presented a different deck to Ozzy, to which he drew his card.

"Good luck," Sera said grimly.

As they walked into the ballroom, Ozzy pocketed his card after briefly gazing at it.

"What card did you get?" Ozzy asked.

Evelyn inspected her card and scoffed. "Queen of spades."

"Your odds are 52-1 tonight not including aces."

"Wow, I might as well get a lottery ticket since my odds are so good."

Catherine hadn't exaggerated when she said she'd gone all out. The entire venue was decked out in black and white. There were three poker tables on the one side of the ballroom, the bar on the other. A dance floor separated them. A large backdrop of a narrowing spiral was setup as a photobooth along the hallway that lead to the coat check and bathrooms.

The white dance floor gleaned under the strobe lights. People mingled in groups. Evelyn spotted Dash sitting at one of the poker tables, a modest stack of red chips in front of him. She saw other familiar faces on the dancefloor, Kate among them, in a black off the shoulder dress with a fishtail that flared just past her knees.

"Where to start?" Ozzy said.

"I was hoping to start with giving the birthday girl my well wishes, but I don't see her anywhere."

Ozzy gave her a look. "Well wishes. Yeah right."

Evelyn reached for her phone in her small clutch and saw a message that was sent from Kate ten minutes ago.

Just give me the signal when you're ready. They should be here in ten.

Evelyn gave a slight nod to Kate and turned her attention back to Ozzy.

"Looks like Dash is trying to get my attention," Ozzy said.

"You should go," Evelyn said, relieved that she didn't have to come up with a reason to keep Ozzy out of the fray.

"Are you sure?"

"Of course. I want to go say hi to Eric and Jonathan."

Ozzy kissed her cheeks. "I'll see you in a bit."

Ozzy said a quick hello as Eric approached with Jonathan at his side.

"Well don't you two look dapper," Evelyn said. "Hey Jonathan."

Jonathan smiled, his lapels shimmering. "Hey, Evelyn."

"I assume Eric told you everything?"

"The gist of it."

"Which isn't saying much because you haven't told me much since we worked on it at the library."

"There was no time. If all goes well, this should finally be over tonight."

"Now there's a novel thought," Eric said. "The end of a drama."

"Have you seen the birthday girl?" Evelyn asked Eric.

"Last I checked, she went down that hallway. She's probably in the bathroom."

"Thanks, Eric. I didn't want to get too comfortable without giving her my birthday present first."

Jonathan shook his head. "You guys don't stop do you?"

"This is tame. You should see her brother at work," Eric said.

Evelyn rolled her eyes at the mention of her brother. She hadn't seen Chuck since he dropped by the penthouse to rife through the safe. She had no idea what schemes he was up to.

Catherine emerged in the ballroom wearing a floor length black satin maxi dress. It featured a deep V-neck with a banded waist and a side slit.

"If you'll excuse me, it's time for me to give Catherine her birthday present," Evelyn said.

As Evelyn marched toward Catherine, she fired off a text to Kate. If all went well, this would be the last time she'd ever have to deal with Catherine again.

Catherine was mid-laugh with Lila when Evelyn approached. Her smiling face turned sour.

"What are you doing here? You weren't invited."

"And miss your special birthday? I wouldn't chance it."

Catherine folded her arms across her chest. "What do you want?"

"To give you your birthday present of course," Evelyn said. "It is your birthday isn't it?"

Catherine rolled her eyes. "You can place your gift on the table by the bar."

"Oh, my gift isn't packaged. It's waiting for you in the hallway behind you."

"What does that mean?"

"Let me show you."

Evelyn led the way into the hallway where Kate stood with two tall, broad shouldered men.

"Oh, hello there. You two must be the Buckleys. I'm Evelyn Bass, and this is Catherine Baizen."

Catherine's face was ashen. She swallowed hard, unable to speak.

"When I heard that these two fine gentlemen have been looking for your brother, I told them that you might know."

Jed Buckley stepped forward and towered over Catherine.

"I don't know where Carter is," Catherine said.

"Last we heard, he was in the city," the other brother, George, said. "We have some unfinished business with him."

"Those are his matters, not mine," Catherine said.

"Where's Carter?"

"I. Don't. Know," Catherine said. "Now can you please excuse me? I have a party to host."

Jed wrapped his hand around Catherine's wrist. "Not so fast, Baizen. You're coming with us."

"What are you doing here?"

Chuck curled his fists and felt his jaw crack from the pressure of his clenched jaw. He knew this was all performance but seeing Blair with Jack didn't take much acting for Chuck.

"How did you even know I was here?" Blair said. "Forget it. I don't want to know."

"Nephew," Jack said. "Dressed yourself this morning?"

Chuck paid careful attention to his current state of dishevelment. His tie was loose. He crumped his shirt and sat on it before wearing it. His socks didn't match. He hadn't washed his hair in three days on purpose, and his five o'clock shadow was dark and prickly.

Chuck stepped towards Blair, his back to Jack. "We need to talk."

"Chuck, there's nothing left to say. Especially not here."

"You talked, but you haven't listened to me. You keep ignoring my calls, what else was I supposed to do to get your attention?"

Blair gazed at the onlookers in the room. "Chuck, stop it."

"I won't until you talk to me," Chuck said. He grabbed Blair's wrist, trying to find the right pressure in his grip. If his grip was too loose, he would be unconvincing. Too forceful, and he would leave a purple mark and never forgive himself.

"Chuck, let go of me," Blair said. Her eyes were glassy, and for a minute, Chuck wondered if she was scared. They'd gotten into arguments before, but he'd never gotten this mad before. Would it scare, Blair?

Chuck felt a vice grip claw into his shoulders that pulled him away from Blair.

Jack had waved over security. Just as they expected.

"This isn't over," Chuck said, as he felt his arms being forcibly bent behind his back.

As Chuck was hauled out of the gallery, his thrashing eased, and his grimace turned into a satisfied smirk.

Didn't you ever learn, C? You don't know a good thing until it's gone until it's found something else. Or rather, someone else.

"I'm not going anywhere," Catherine said. She tried to wiggle out of Jed's grip. "Please let go of me."

Jed let go of her wrist but stood close enough to Catherine so that she wouldn't be able to run away from him.

"Maybe this would be better in a quieter space?" Evelyn suggested.

"This is a hall. There is no other space," Catherine spat.

"Let's try this again," George said. "Where's Carter?"

"I told you I don't know. If anything, you should probably ask her because she was one of the last people he was spotted with," Catherine said, pointing at Evelyn.

"You're a little behind as usual Catherine. I wasn't the last person Carter was with. He was with Serena," Evelyn said. "Besides, I know for a fact that he was staying at your family home when he was in the city."

George and Jed exchanged a look.

"Listen," Jed said. "We don't want to bother you as much as you don't want to be bothered by us, but you'd be making this easier for yourself and your brother if you just told us where he is."

"I can call security to have you all escorted out of here."

George smirked. "If you don't tell us where he is, you'll be coming with us, now. Quietly."

Catherine's shoulders sagged. "How much does he owe you guys?"

The question struck Evelyn. Catherine's voice was both exasperated and yet causal. It was like she had asked the question before.

"We're not interested in money," George said. "Although your brother does need to work on his poker face at the table."

"We're looking to get even. For what he did to Beth," Jed added.

"Look, I know as much about the goings on in my brother's life as you do. He never stays still. Even if I told you where he was, he might not be there right now."

"Whatever you can tell us would be helpful," Jed said.

Catherine considered this. Her gaze remained on the tile, her voice low and resigned. "He was in Santorini. He left New York for Santorini. Although he probably left Santorini because it's winter now."

"Where is he now?"

"We didn't hear from him at Christmas," Catherine said. "But if I were to guess…I'd say he may have returned to Dubai. He liked the desert."

George and Jed exchanged a look.

"Guessing isn't good enough," George said.

"Well, that's the best I can do."

"Then, you'll have to come with us," George said.

"Excuse me? I will not be going anywhere," Catherine said. "I don't know if you noticed, but you are interrupting my birthday party. Now, I know my brother is a jackass, and you are justified in whatever revenge you want on him, but if you think holding me hostage in hopes to force him to resurface will work, then you couldn't be more wrong. He wouldn't care."

"We're really tired of this chase."

"I'm sure you are. Listen, why don't we meet up and discuss options tomorrow morning after my party. We can meet up for brunch at the plaza."

"How do we know you'll show?"

"I'll give you my number."

George and Jed nodded at each other.

"Okay then," Jed said, stepping away from Catherine. "That's what we'll do."

"Thank you for your cooperation," George said.

Catherine grimaced. The boys nodded and left without another word.

Catherine was quiet for a moment until she realized that Evelyn remained.

"Thanks for the birthday present," Catherine spat. "Real classy, Evelyn. I wouldn't expect anything lower from a Bass."

Evelyn felt her muscles tense. "And everything that you've pulled on me wasn't low? Since when do you get to sit on a high horse and look down on me?"

Catherine tried to walk away, but Evelyn blocked her path.

"You're the one who started this and kept throwing mud at me every chance you ever got. What is your problem with me?" Evelyn said.

"Because you're always in the way! Like right now. Move," Catherine pushed past her and towards the ballroom.

"I was just trying to make a point," Evelyn said. "It doesn't feel so good when people come after you because of your family does it?"

Catherine stopped and turned. "I know my brother has done a lot of terrible things, but do not compare my family with yours. You don't know anything about my family."

"Neither do you about mine," Evelyn said. "And that didn't stop you from stomping on me to try to become Queen again."

"Don't you get it?" Catherine said. "I'm supposed to be Queen. Not you. I've been working for this for years, and then you show up and think you can just have it when you feel like it or change it to settle your conscious?"

"I don't just be Queen when I feel like it," Evelyn said.

"Then what would you call it?"

"Equal opportunity. You don't have to be Queen like how Blair was you know."

"Yes, you do. That's how it's always worked, and there's a reason for that. How much success did you find exactly? Oh, that's right. None."

"And here I thought that maybe we could finally make an agreement about this. But you won't quit, will you?" Evelyn said.

"I don't give up," Catherine said. She shook her head with disgust. "I don't know what Ozzy sees in you. Speaking of Ozzy…I wonder what he would think of the little stunt you pulled."

"What are you going to do, tattle on me?" Evelyn said.

Catherine turned on her heels, her lips curled a devilish smirk. "Maybe I will."

Spotted: E and C locked in a standoff. Any bets on who's going to win this one?

Bart popped two pills in his mouth and gulped half a glass of water. After ending this week's testimonies, and Evelyn finding out about the files, he was left with a pulsing headache. The headache travelled from his temple to his ear and reached through his jaw to his back molars. His teeth ached when the cold water washed over them.

Unlike most evenings where he'd spend his time reading the newspaper, Bart sat on the couch and leaned his head back. He rubbed his eyes and massaged his temples. It had been a long, arduous week. And he knew it wasn't going to be the last.

Bart lifted his head when he heard the elevator ding. With Eric and Evelyn out at a birthday party, and Lily at the Marc Jacobs show for New York Fashion Week, Bart had prepared himself for an evening alone.

Lily appeared, in a floor length shimmering dress, her coat knotted snugly across her middle.

Bart checked his watch. "Show ended already?"

"I never made it."

"What happened?"

"There was a mix-up with the seating arrangement."

"A mix-up."

Lily released the knot on her jacket. "I wasn't on the list."

Bart frowned. "But you already secured your ticket weeks ago?"

"Loyalties during fashion week are quite fickle as it is. They need the best and most influential people present in the audience to advertise and promote their new trends. It was just especially fickle this year."

"I'm sorry, Lily."

"Don't be. They just didn't want me being the spectacle overtaking some of the attention at their show for simply being in attendance while you're on trial."

"They are really willing to take anything to become a story, won't they?"

"A headline, really." Lily poured herself a drink. "Would you like one?"

"No thanks. I have a headache."

"I can't imagine why. You should hydrate more while you're in the court room."

"Lily, I'll be fine."

Lily sat beside him and set her drink on a glass coaster. "You won't be fine if don't start to take care of yourself during this process."

"I'm fine, really."

"How was it today?"

"Fine. Same as the day before."

"That well, huh?"

Bart massaged his temples. "It wasn't one of my preferred ways to spend my day."

Bart leaned his head back against the sofa cushion and closed his eyes.

"What's bothering you?" Lily asked.

"Isn't it obvious?"

"Aside from the trial."

Bart opened his eyes and starred at the ceiling. "Evelyn learned about the files."

"How would she know about that?"

"I was hoping you'd have an answer to that."

"Well, I didn't say anything. If I were to guess though, I'd say Eric did."

Or Chuck, Bart wanted to add. He did suspect his son first due to precedent, but Eric could have done it, likely on accident.

"What did she say to you about it?" Lily asked.

"That she lost her trust in me."

Lily sipped her drink.

"Go on. Say it."

"Say what?"

"What you warned me about a couple years ago. I told you so. All of that."

"I don't think I have to."

Bart closed his eyes.

"I don't know what I can do to fix this," Bart said.

"Well, honesty is a good place to start. And you can't expect her to trust you if you can't trust her."

The difference couldn't be starker. With Chuck, and Serena especially, he didn't always trust their judgement and decisions. With Evelyn it was different. He did trust her judgement and didn't worry about her. Her file was different. It was the safest way to watch her grow from afar, without making things worse.

"I do trust Evelyn, but I don't trust what's out of her control."

"Every parent wants to protect their kids but spying on them isn't the way to go."

"I wasn't spying on her. When I told you I wouldn't use the files again, I kept my word."

"I believe you," Lily said. "You need to prove to Evelyn that she can trust you again, and that'll take time."

The answer unnerved Bart because he understood that he not only was in short supply of time, but he didn't know when and where his time would run out.

Evelyn felt no need to run after Catherine. She felt no need to move at all because Evelyn felt rooted in this battle with Catherine, and every muscle in her body felt rigidly tight. For once, her body prevented her from running away from a problem because she was already cemented in it.

Evelyn walked at a leisurely pace across the dancefloor and toward the poker tables. Catherine had corned Ozzy by then, her hands moving in circles to communicate her plight while Ozzy's brows were knitted together, his arms crossed.

Kate appeared at her side, her eyes not meeting hers when she asked. "How did it go?"

Evelyn didn't answer immediately. She was in a daze and found herself wanting to laugh. In light of her father's trial, her power struggles with Catherine suddenly seemed so petty. It was a fruitless battle. One that saw no beginning or end, just a series of scuffles.

"Evelyn?"

"It was a draw."

"But I thought the Buckley's were going to take her for ransom until she revealed where Carter was?"

"She arranged to meet with them tomorrow to help them find where he is right now. No force was necessary."

It was an unexpected outcome. One that Kate didn't anticipate. "She's…going to work with them?"

"Yup. She sold Carter out faster than a Spice Girls concert."

"Oh," Kate said. "That's…surprising."

Maybe it shouldn't have been so surprising. Catherine and Carter weren't close, and there didn't seem to be any benefit to protecting her brother. As annoyed as Evelyn was with Chuck, she didn't think she would have folded like Catherine did.

"We'll try something else then?" Kate said.

Evelyn was now within earshot of Catherine and Ozzy although Catherine was doing most of the talking.

"And they threatened me. At my own birthday party. Can you believe that?"

"I—"

"And Evelyn was the one who contacted them. She had a plan. She wanted to ruin my birthday party. I could have been put in serious danger," Catherine said.

Ozzy's gaze moved past Catherine and settled on Evelyn. He looked ambushed, bewildered even, as Catherine did her best to be the world's most innocent martyr behind Mother Teresa.

"I just thought you had a right to know what kind of person Evelyn really is."

"I think he can make that judgement for himself," Evelyn said.

Catherine turned with a satisfied smirk on her face. "Of course, he can. Now that he has all the facts. If you'll excuse me, I have a party to host."

Ozzy pushed his impressive stack of poker chips towards Dash. Dash's gaze followed Catherine, and he shook his head in disgust. The rest of the players at the table watched them, waiting for Ozzy to continue the next round.

"You guys go ahead. I'm out," Ozzy said. He picked up his jacket, his eyes avoiding hers.

"Let's go outside."

He didn't say anything else until they were outside, under the nearest streetlamp. The longer the silence stretched, the more Evelyn worried that he actually believed Catherine.

"Can I explain my side of the story?" Evelyn said.

"I would hope so."

"You have to understand that I didn't start this."

"So, you didn't bring Catherine's family enemies to her birthday party to press her about her brother's whereabouts."

"I'll get to that. I know it seems a bit extreme—"

"A bit?"

Evelyn furrowed her brows. "Are you going to actually listen to me or just judge me?"

Ozzy's features softened. "I'm sorry. I'm listening."

"It doesn't seem like you're putting in much effort."

"Evelyn, this isn't the first time you've manipulated a situation to get the outcome you wanted. I would know."

"Yes, but this is different. I had to do something."

"Did you really have to do something? Did you really have to use me to make Dash jealous at the Alumni fundraiser?"

"This is different. I didn't—shouldn't have done that with you and Dash. I told you that I regretted that. I meant it."

"And you don't regret what you did to Catherine tonight? Is that what makes it different?"

"That's not what I'm saying," Evelyn's voice began to rise.

"Then what are we even talking about right now? I don't understand."

"Yes, you don't understand," Evelyn said. "Catherine has made it her mission to make my life miserable every chance she gets since the beginning of junior year. She didn't have to treat me like that, just like all the girls don't have to be catty with each other to the point where they'll do anything from pushing you off a deck to trying to steal your boyfriend under your nose. They didn't have to do that, but they still did, and they always will."

"Always?"

"Most of the time."

Ozzy took a step toward he and cupped her cold hands into his warm ones. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to jump at you like that. It's just, when you go down this road, it doesn't bring out the best in you. It also doesn't really help you either."

"But it does make me feel better in the moment."

"Of course it does," Ozzy said. "But if you don't put this tit-for-tat to bed, it's never going to end."

"I agree, which is what I was trying to accomplish tonight, but she won't budge. How can you try to move forward when the other side refuses?"

"Tell me what's happened to get you guys to this point."

Evelyn told him. She told him without skimping out on the details of her involvement, like Evelyn going through Catherine's things to find out she pushed her into the water at the party in the Hamptons. She told him about the shifts in power, Catherine's rise and her own fall. All of it.

"Do you now understand?" Evelyn said.

Ozzy nodded. "I understand that I should be grateful that I'm not a girl at this school."

"Count your blessings," Evelyn said. "I'm not saying you're not right. What I did was a pretty crappy thing to do. But I just had enough of the power struggles, and I didn't want to be subjected to it for the rest of the year. I also just wanted to make Catherine see what it felt like to have your family's drama be used as a weapon against you. I even told her so. She didn't get it."

"Or she didn't want to," Ozzy said.

"I don't know," Evelyn said. "With everything that is going on with the trial, I guess I just clung onto this opportunity to have some control over something in my life. I thought that if I succeeded with this plan, then I could at least count on going to school and not being bothered, but that may have been unrealistic."

"A bit."

"I'm sorry for dragging you into this. I didn't tell you anything because I didn't want you to get involved."

"It's okay. It's better this way. I'd rather know than be lied to."

"I'm sorry for not being truthful." She looked down at her feet. "It's just…with Catherine it's different. We hate each other, but that rivalry stems from wanting the same things…or the same person."

"You mean me," Ozzy said.

Evelyn shrugged, still unable to look him in the eye. "You two have had…relations together, and you always talk to her and give her the benefit of the doubt when you shouldn't."

"Evelyn." Ozzy tilted her chin up to meet his gaze. "I want to be very clear here. You have nothing to worry about with me and Catherine. We aren't a thing. I wouldn't even say we're friends anymore. I care about you, only you."

"I know," Evelyn said. "And I care about you, and I don't like her appealing to your kinder tendencies to take advantage of you for her own gain."

"You're right," Ozzy said. "She does that, doesn't she?"

Evelyn nodded.

Ozzy kissed her lightly, their foreheads touching. "I think I know what needs to happen here to end this. It's something I should have done a long time ago."

Evelyn pulled back. "Like what?"

"Clear the air with Catherine myself."

"Oh?"

"I think you're going to want to hear what I have to say," Ozzy said. "In fact, I want you to hear it."

Ozzy offered his arm to her and they walked back to the hall.

Blair sat on the bench in the gallery. Most people had either left or mingled at the bar, and Blair wanted to impress upon Jack her distress. Her shoulders curved forward, and Blair kept her gaze lo, on her hands. She twisted her ruby heart shaped ring around her finger, a gift from her first boyfriend Nate, now a relic that she pulled out seldomly.

Although Blair was impressed by her performance with Chuck, she couldn't stop her fingers from massaging her wrist. Chuck's imprint had faded, but the memory of his forcefulness lingered. Blair had never seen Chuck that angry. It was all for show, but Blair wondered if there was more truth to Chuck's temper than she had ever known.

Jack ambled toward her, his hands in his pockets.

"I'm sorry you had to see that," Blair said, as she massaged her wrist.

"Why would you be sorry? Last I checked you weren't the one throwing a tantrum."

"I never thought he would come here of all places. I didn't even think he knew where an art gallery was on a map."

Blair felt Jack's suspicious gaze inspect her every move and breath.

"I'm so embarrassed he did that in front of all those people," Blair said.

"It could have been worse," Jack said.

"How?"

"You could have actually known those people in there."

"I guess that's true," Blair said.

Jack took a seat beside her and craned his neck to observe the second story of the art installation.

"Why did you break up anyway?"

Blair anticipated this question. She and Chuck discussed their story, corroborated down to the last detail. Now it was time to sell it.

"Things haven't been the same since last year between Chuck and me. We broke up at the end of the school year, and we got back together briefly over the holidays, but the same problems never left."

"What was his problem?"

"Paranoia. He said he couldn't trust me and kept accusing me of all these ridiculous accusations."

"Like what?"

"Cheating, primarily. Which is still ridiculous to me," Blair said. "Over the break, I gave it one more chance, but we just kept arguing, and then I learned that he turned everyone at one of my social clubs at Columbia against me, so I'd be forced to turn to him. I realized I just needed to get out of the situation, but he won't leave me alone."

"Have you ever thought about getting a restraining order?"

"I haven't actually."

"Well, you should think about it."

"I'm sorry you got dragged into all of this," Blair said. "I know you're related and all…"

"By blood, yes. I'm sure you're aware it doesn't go much deeper than that."

"I noticed," Blair said. She looked up at the installation and saw a spotlight, fireplace mantel clock's pendulum swing back and forth.

Blair again felt Jack's probing gaze on her.

"You aren't crying," He said.

"I've cried myself out weeks ago," Blair said. "Now I just feel this dull, sore ache. Does it ever go away?"

Blair looked at him, hoping to gauge if her ploy was working on him.

He looked troubled, lost in his thoughts. "Not in my experience. It gets duller, but it never fully leaves you."

Jack looked over at the bar where the final couples were saying goodnight to one another.

"Guess we've closed down the place."

"I've never done that at an art gallery before."

"I've never been to an art gallery open before," Jack said.

"How's that possible?"

"Avoidance."

"Ah, the first defence of the disinterested."

"Guilty as charged. Although, I do see what you were saying about alienation and belonging with this piece."

"Glad to hear my lesson paid off."

"Thanks again for coming."

"Even though my ex crashed it drunk?"

"It's never really a good party unless someone crashes."

Blair felt an eerie feeling of déjà vu wash over her. She had heard a similar sentence uttered by Chuck. She knew they were related, but what were the chances that would happen?

"That's true although I would enjoy it more if I were a spectator and not included in the crashing."

They neared the coat check where Jack helped Blair put on her coat. Outside, it was unusually windy, and Blair's soft curls began to fray.

Jack held the handle of the door but refrained from opening it. "How would you feel about not ending this night here?"

She looked at his gaze and noticed a daring challenge in his demeanor. He didn't completely buy everything Blair sold that evening, and this question was meant to test the validity to her story. If she guessed right, she'd have Jack on the hook. If she guessed wrong, the whole plan would collapse.

Blair went back and forth in her head, looking for the right answer. If she said no, he might perceive that as cowardly. If she said yes, it might be suspiciously early to make that leap considering the emotional toll she tried to sell him earlier.

"After everything that happened tonight, I think it's time to end it here. I wasn't great company anyway."

"I disagree."

"Fine. I was good company until Chuck showed up," Blair said. "I think it's best if I just take some time to myself right now."

Jack nodded, accepting the answer. "And what are you going to do about Chuck?"

"I need to figure that out," Blair said. "I want to move forward, and I have been. I just need to figure out a way to get him out of my path, and with your advice, that might be slightly easier."

"If you need the number of the coroner, all you have to do is ask."

If this wasn't such a serious moment, Blair would have let out a laugh. What was it with Bass men having such strong connections with the police? Was it a rite of passage, or just a means of protection?

"Thank you. I hope it doesn't come to that, but if it does, I'll ask."

Jack opened the door for Blair. Blair paused, knowing that she couldn't leave the night like this. She couldn't leave tonight with no promise, no allusion of interest in Jack or else there would be no reason to continue to reel Jack in. He'd swim away, taking her hook right off her line.

Blair stood on her toes, brushed Jack's stubbled cheek with her hand, and kissed him on the cheek.

"Good night, Jack."

Blair stepped into the taxi and looked over her shoulder to see Jack's reaction. He was slightly surprised, and a satisfied smirk stretched across his face.

The car pulled away from the curb and Blair settled back in her seat, tingling.

The game was on.

Ozzy wanted no more than to leave Catherine's birthday party by then. While everyone else was having fun around poker tables or dancing away on the dance floor, Ozzy felt stuck in the middle of a tug of war between Catherine and Evelyn. He had no idea until tonight how deep and long the rivalry went between them, and he didn't want it to go on any further.

Ozzy went ahead to the bar where Catherine was surrounded by her closest followers. Ozzy would hesitate to call them friends, for they were no more than glorified servants, something he began to notice now that Evelyn explained it to him.

To him, it was all a bunch of unnecessary drama. He felt tired just hearing about it. He had no idea how much of a toll it took on Evelyn, and if had any sway on the matter, he would have preferred Evelyn to be nowhere near those girls. Ozzy now understood such a unliteral declaration wasn't feasible.

Ozzy approached the bar and waited behind the wall of girls who quickly scattered like ants when they noticed his presence.

"Ozzy," Catherine said. She leaped off her stool, and she now wore a tiara and beauty pageant sash that said it was her birthday.

"Where's Evelyn?"

"Still here," Ozzy said.

Catherine glowered, but quickly changed gears. "Want a drink?"

"No thanks."

"But it's her birthday," One of the youngest girls said.

"Yeah, you have to take a shot with her!" Another girl with dark flattened hair said.

Ozzy had made an effort to stay away from alcohol for the past few months now. Since he learned about the substance abuse problems that ran in his family, he started reconsidering his lax attitude towards alcohol.

Before he could protest further, Catherine ordered two tequila shots from the bartender. Was this what Dash was talking about? Catherine always trying to strongarm him into doing what she wanted? It was hard to argue since today was her birthday of all days.

Ozzy licked the salt off his hand and tasted the tequila burn down his throat. He liked the taste of tequila and the warm feeling in his chest after he sunk his teeth into the sour lime wedge. He looked at the bottles that lined up behind the bartender, his hands balled up into fists.

Catherine's friends moved to the dance floor, leaving Ozzy alone with Catherine. While Catherine wasn't looking, he pulled out his phone and dialled Evelyn's number. He placed the phone on the bar, behind his drink.

"Catherine, I need to talk to you about something."

Catherine's eyes lit up in concern.

"I know you and Evelyn have never been friends or are ever going to be friends, but you trying to sell her out to me wasn't cool."

"I wasn't trying to sell her out. I was just telling you the truth."

"Your truth," Ozzy said.

Since he started therapy, Ozzy began to see that everyone's perception of events represented their interpretation of the truth. The actual truth always lied at the intersection point of everyone's perception.

Catherine crossed her arms. "So, you're taking her side. That's real nice. Real cool Ozzy."

"Catherine come on—"

"And to think I thought you cared about me, and now the two of you do this to me—on my birthday?" Catherine's eyes welled with tears.

"Look, I think we need to clear the air here. Evelyn and I are together now—"

"Spare me with the 'it was inevitable' or any of that 'we were meant to be' crap."

"Catherine, look. If you're going to come after my girlfriend like that again, Evelyn won't tolerate that, and neither will I."

"What are you talking about?"

"You know exactly what I'm talking about."

Catherine drained her martini glass.

"Don't you think it's time to end this fighting?" Ozzy said.

"End what, Ozzy? This is how it goes here. There is no end. The faster you and Evelyn realize that the better off you'll be."

"It doesn't have to be like that."

"But it just is," Catherine said. "There's no changing it."

Ozzy shook his head. "There's no changing your mind either."

"If you're going to continue to be this difficult, then you can leave now."

Ozzy picked up his phone and pushed away from the bar. "Gladly."

Ozzy walked to the bathrooms and coat check area where Evelyn lingered, her phone against her ear.

"Hey."

"Hey."

"Thank you for doing that," Evelyn said. "And for believing in me when I didn't have much credibility."

"You believed in me when no one else did," Ozzy said. "I hope you now know that I will do the same for you."

Evelyn smiled and leaned forward for a kiss. Ozzy wrapped his arms around, his hands resting on the curve below her low back.

"You may have heard on the phone, but I've been asked to leave," Ozzy said.

"I did hear that," Evelyn said. "You seem really broken up about it."

Ozzy grinned. "Want to get out of here? Get some ice cream or something?"

"Desperately."

After saying their goodbyes to Eric and Jonathan, Ozzy took her hand and together they weaved past the dance floor and a couple of the poker tables.

"Ozzy?" Evelyn said.

"Yeah?"

"I can't guarantee that I won't be a part of a scheme, but I want you to know that I will be upfront about it from now on."

Ozzy wasn't sure if he wanted to know all the details of Evelyn's scheming, but he appreciated the transparency.

As they approached the door, a microphone screeched. Ozzy winced at the sound and turned to locate the source of it. A teetering girl at the DJ booth held the microphone in one hand, a card in the other.

"It's time for the card draw, so get your cards ready!"

"Want to see which poor sap has the unfortunate luck of winning?" Evelyn asked.

"Why not."

The teetering girl continued, "The lucky winner will get the chance to join our birthday girl for front row seats and an exclusive meet and greet with… The Black Keys!"

Whoops and whistles sounded through the room while Ozzy dug in his pocket and picked up his card: the three of hearts.

"And the winning card is…" Everything started thumping their legs or stomped their feet to build up an applause.

"Three of hearts!"

"Well, I'm out," Evelyn said. "Lucky me!"

Ozzy looked at his card again. There was no chance involved with this. He knew for certain now.

He bent his card in half. "Me too. Ready?"

"More than ever."

"Three of hearts? Anyone?" The teetering girl called from the stage. "Three of hearts!"

As Ozzy walked out with Evelyn, fingers twined with hers, he dropped his card where the winter wind swept it away.

Chances. Life's full of them. Sometimes we can anticipate them, sometimes they sneak up on us. Chances force us to make choices, and no matter how much we measure the odds, we don't always make the right one. But when we do, there's never a need to look back.

You Know You Love Me,

XOXO Gossip Girl

A/N: And there you have it! More information unravels during the trial, phase one of Blair and Chuck's scheme is complete, Evelyn finds out about the files further complicating her relationship with Bart, and Ozzy steps up and puts Catherine in her place.

So what's coming up next? The next chapter will be titled, "Close Encounters With the Bass Kind."

As always, let me know your thoughts in a review!

Till next time,

EZ11