The gravel crunched beneath their feet as they strode down the long, narrow drive. Christopher looked up at the dark, foreboding façade of Flint manor. It'd been years since he'd been there and Marcus now had the run of the place, but it didn't look like anything much had changed on the exterior.
"Merlin's balls. This place is the definition of overkill," Weasley commented. "I didn't think people actually had gargoyles in real life."
Christopher glanced up at one of the stone creatures currently brooding on its precarious perch atop the corner of the roof. The house he'd grown up in hadn't been all that different. The idea was never to welcome any visitors. Everything was dark, dreary and made of cold, hard stone for a reason. It didn't make for a cheerful upbringing when your house looked like some sort of haunted, gothic museum.
"Let me do all the talking in there," Christopher snapped. "I'll be able to tell quickly if he's involved. Flint's a braggart at his core. If he's done something it'll be written all over his smug, trollish face."
"Are the rumours true then? Is there really troll blood in the Flint family?"
"I don't know about trolls per se, but the rumours have a basis in truth. Let's just say if you shake the Flint family tree hard enough some weird shit will fall out."
They approached the door and Christopher noticed the same hideous knocker he remembered from childhood was still there. The severed goblin's head was just as unsettling to see as an adult. He kicked the door in lieu of touching that accursed thing.
"What do we do if he's involved?" Weasley asked, fidgeting from side to side. "We should have a plan. You go left, I go right? Or maybe you should hang back since I'm clearly the superior dueller. He's huge but about as agile as an erumpent. I could-"
"For the love of God, stop talking."
The door was yanked open to reveal a heavily pregnant woman. Flint's unlucky Russian bride. She looked the two of them up and down contemplatively, then rolled her cornflower blue eyes. Without a word to them, she turned and sauntered away into the depths of the house. They stepped into the foyer and waited for the master of the manor to show up.
"Blimey. She's far too fit to be with Flint," Weasley muttered under his breath.
"Shut up," Christopher hissed impatiently.
Flint appeared a moment later, looking confused then apoplectic. "No way! What the hell are you two doing in my house?"
"Your lovely wife let us in," Weasley said, immediately ignoring the explicit instruction to keep quiet. "Didn't she let you know we were here?"
"No. All she did was babble away senselessly as always. That useless woman needs to learn English."
"You could try learning Russian," Christopher suggested lightly.
"Not bloody likely," Flint grunted. He folded his arms, which made his biceps resemble a couple of sacks filled with rocks. "What the fuck are you two doing here? Come to announce that you've ditched Spinnet and you're now shagging each other?"
"Ha. Brilliant," Weasley said, nudging Christopher with his elbow. "You never told me he was a first-class wit."
"We have a couple of questions to ask then we'll be on our way," Christopher said crisply, commandeering the conversation before the redhead's big mouth got them in trouble.
"Nah. I think you can both just get out."
Flint turned to leave but before he got too far, Weasley shouted, "What have you done with Alicia?"
Christopher sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. Flint's responding laughter echoed through the high-ceilinged entryway. "What do you mean by that? Have you idiots gone and lost her?" he crowed jubilantly.
"We just want to know if you've had any contact with her since the night of the Quidditch game."
"Ah, so you heard about the little chat I had with her?"
"I only found out about it today, otherwise I'd have come here long before now," Christopher answered.
Flint took a step towards him. "To do what exactly? You and your big mouth have a lot of explaining to do. What the hell were you thinking? Did she suck your brain out through your dick? I ought to string you up by your balls then call all the lads over and let them know you've been sharing our secrets with that Gryffindor slag."
"I wouldn't be calling her that if I were you," Weasley said calmly.
Christopher realised now that Alicia had threatened to blackmail Flint if he didn't back off. Over the years he'd shared more than a few deep, dark secrets about his housemates with her. He never knew whether she paid much attention to it, but clearly she'd been cataloguing all of it away for use at a later date.
"So you clearly know Alicia has enough ammunition to bring down all of the prominent families – yours included. She's a liability to you."
"You think I'm scared of a filthy little mudblood?"
"Flint, mate, you're really going to want to stop the name calling," Weasley said.
Christopher glanced over and saw Weasley had his wand in his hand now. Things were about to devolve very quickly. He had to get an answer. "I think you're furious that Alicia has power over you. It wouldn't be much of a stretch to assume you'd want to reassert dominance, right? Make her feel scared and vulnerable. Get her out of the way so she doesn't bring your world crashing down."
Flint sneered and took a step forward. "Listen, if I wanted that ugly little bint out the way, she'd already be at the bottom of the Black Lake."
"Right. I warned you."
Christopher found himself being shouldered aside and Weasley drew his arm back, but instead of throwing a hex at Flint, he used his fist. It collided with the side of Flint's nose.
"For fuck's sake, Weasley!"
Christopher drew his own wand quickly. Flint roared like a wounded lion and swung a huge fist wildly at them. But they were already stepping back towards the door, with Weasley clutching his injured hand and swearing profusely the whole time. Flint advanced but he truly did have all the agility of an erumpent so they were over the threshold before he reached them. Christopher put his hand on Weasley's shoulder and Disapparated them out of there.
"Son of a bitch!" Weasley howled, stumbling and falling to his knees. "A little warning next time!"
Christopher let go of him and caught himself on a nearby sapling. "Next time I'll bloody leave you there and let Flint pommel you! What were you thinking?"
"You heard the way he was talking about her! As if I was going to stand by and listen to that."
Christopher stomped off across the yard towards the back of his house. "But you're a wizard! Why throw a punch when your wand was already in your other hand?"
"Oh," Weasley said meekly. "I didn't really consider that."
"Fucking Gryffindors," Christopher muttered. "You might as well have punched a brick wall. Is your hand broken?"
"Feels like it."
"Fantastic. Now we have to waste time while you go to St Mungo's to get it fixed."
"I'll take care of it myself."
Christopher snorted derisively. "Right. You're going to mend your own bones?"
"Not my first broken bone, you know. Fred and I have been using healing magic on each other since we were kids. I've never had to use the spell on myself before but I've sorted Fred out plenty of times. We won't lose any time either. If I don't get it perfect then I'll have the bones vanished and re-grown once Alicia's safe and sound."
Christopher didn't acknowledge any of this. Mostly because it irked him to realise Weasley was better at magic than him. It had never come that naturally to him and he'd had to work his arse off at school. A lot of it had then been forgotten over the years. Meanwhile Weasley had apparently been performing advanced healing spells since he was a snot-nosed pre-pubescent.
"Wait, so we're sure Flint isn't involved?"
"Yes. I threatened his masculinity just enough that he'd have admitted to it to save face. It's hard to believe, but I think Alicia really got to him. It was smart of her to bring up all the secrets she knows. She's backed Flint and the others into a corner and they know it."
"You sound surprised. She's pretty fearless, you know."
"Wasn't always that way," Christopher said as they made their way through the back door. "I know you probably disagree with me, but I think leaving England all those years ago was the best thing she could have done for herself."
Weasley sat down at the kitchen table and laid his mangled hand delicately on top of it. "I do disagree with you. Vehemently in fact."
"The lot of you sheltered her for years and that did more harm than good. You all overshadowed her at school, but once she was on her own in France she flourished. She wouldn't have had that chance if she'd stayed here with all her friends hovering around her constantly."
"How do you know anything about what she was like at school?"
"I know plenty. I know Montague used Quidditch as an excuse to cop a feel every chance that he could and she never stood up for herself. I know Flint only had to sneer at her and she'd scurry off like a frightened church mouse. I know she never wandered the corridors without Johnson and Bell beside her. I also know you and your brother and Wood used to warn off anyone who showed an interest in her, so she never got the chance to learn how to deal with unwanted attention herself."
Weasley nodded slowly, a knowing little smirk on his face. "Right. You fancied her back at school, didn't you?"
Christopher shrugged and opened his fridge to fetch a couple of bottles of water. "I wouldn't go that far. Every bloke had their favourite Gryffindor Chaser though, right? I suppose she was mine, but it never went beyond thinking she was all right looking. Back then she would have been too meek and mild for my liking."
"And you and your spots were hardly her type either. There was never a chance of her giving you the time of day back then."
"Catch." Christopher tossed a water bottle towards Weasley and he automatically went to lift his right hand to snatch it out of the air.
"Aaah," he yelped. The water bottle sailed over his head and hit the sideboard. "You absolute cock."
"Anytime. Now where's that list of yours? Time to find another suspect."
Weasley stood up and fished it out of his pocket, all the while glaring and muttering under his breath. A knock at the front door made both of them freeze.
"Uh, does Flint know where you live?"
"I don't know. Possibly," Christopher said. Since his mother knew his address it was very likely everyone in Slytherin knew it as well. "Stay here and take care of your hand. I'll get rid of whoever it is."
For a second, Christopher almost wished it was Flint at his door.
"Warrington."
"Potter." Christopher turned to the other man on his doorstep and nodded curtly. "Weasley."
"Sorry for turning up out of the blue like this. There's an important matter we need to discuss with you," Potter said, his tone clipped and no-nonsense. The speccy git was clearly every inch the Ministry lackey these days. "Do you mind if we continue talking inside?"
"Now isn't a good time, I'm afraid."
Weasley groaned and rolled his eyes. "Look, we'll do this the hard way if we have to. There's no time to waste so whatever you have going on can wait."
"I'm in the middle of something important myself, you see. I'll come down to the Ministry later today if I can."
Potter didn't react. Weasley, however, looked furious. "How about we drag you down to the Ministry right now and you can answer our questions while you're locked in a holding room," he said sneered.
"Calm down, Ron. Literally no one finds you intimidating."
Christopher turned to see the older Weasley coming towards them. He was flexing his right hand freely by his side, so the self-healing had apparently worked well enough. To his credit, Potter didn't look all that surprised to see him there. On the other hand…
"George! What are you doing here? We told you to wait at Alicia's place!"
"I was on my way there when it occurred to me that Warrington here might know something considering our suspect is French."
"No one knows for sure that he's French," Christopher reminded everyone.
Potter cleared his throat pointedly, gathering everyone's attention instantly. "Actually, we do know that now. The man who approached Alicia this morning is a French national by the name of Lucas Caron."
Christopher immediately began to run through a mental list of names. Caron popped up once or twice; it was a common enough name. To his despair, the name Lucas Caron didn't ring any bells with him though.
"What's his story? Why did he take Alicia?" Weasley demanded from behind him.
"Can we not have this conversation on the doorstep?" Potter said.
Christopher sighed in resignation and stepped aside to let the pair enter. He now had Harry Potter and two members of the Weasley family standing in his house. What the fuck had become of his life? The only upside was that his father would be turning in his grave.
"The French Ministry has dealt with Caron a couple of times over the last few years," Potter said as Christopher closed his front door. "Nothing major like kidnapping though. Mostly petty theft and selling restricted potions."
"We haven't been able to find a connection between him and Alicia yet. We were hoping you might have something to add," the younger Weasley said, folding his arms and looking Christopher up and down slowly.
"I've never heard of him. As for his connection to Alicia, I very much doubt she kept company with a low-life criminal like that."
Weasley the Elder joined them in the entryway then, deep in thought, finger tapping on his chin. "Maybe he's just the errand boy. What if he was sent by one of the dark wizards she helped Ogden take down?"
"Wow. Amazing thought-process there, George. But you know what, we actually thought of that already and it's a dead end. We aren't clueless trainees anymore, you know."
"Is your partner here always so combative?" Christopher asked conversationally.
"Low blood sugar," Potter answered. "We skipped lunch because we've been busy following multiple leads at once. Our colleagues across the Channel have accounted for all the dark wizards Ogden helped apprehend; they're either dead or still locked up in maximum security prisons."
"So what now?" Weasley demanded. "The longer we stand around doing nothing, the more likely it is that Alicia won't make it out of this."
Christopher felt his stomach clench at the bluntness of that statement. He knew there was some sort of statistic that people quoted with kidnappings. Like after the first twenty-four hours it would be highly unlikely that Alicia would still be alive.
"Caron wouldn't have gone to the effort of snatching her off the street only to go ahead and kill her. He wants something from her specifically or he's after ransom money. But there's also a chance this isn't about Alicia at all and someone is trying to get back at one of you two. That's why we're here. We need both of you to tell us if you've got any dark secrets we should know about."
"You actually mean me, right?" Christopher snapped. "You're asking if I'm involved with Death Eaters."
"Death Eaters don't exist anymore."
Christopher turned to Weasley and shook his head wearily. "Don't be stupid. Of course they still exist. Did you think they all turned to dust when Voldemort died? Not all of them were stupid enough to follow him to Hogwarts that night and his defeat only forced them underground for a while."
"You seem to know a lot about them," the younger Weasley said wryly.
"I don't associate with them but I hear things. Not as much as I used to, but I still know people who are in the loop. I'm sure I'd know if I was a target."
"Maybe they want to recruit you and they're planning to use Alicia as leverage," Potter suggested.
"What would they want with me? I'm practically a Muggle these days. Besides, if someone wanted to get to me they'd take Jake, not Alicia."
"Fair point. Is he somewhere safe right now?"
"My housekeeper took him to her house this morning," Christopher answered. "I'll have to go and collect him soon though. And I don't want to have to tell him he'll never see his mother again so you had better have some sort of plan here, Potter."
"The French Ministry is trying to track down Caron's last known whereabouts and any of his associates but it appears he's been a ghost for the last few months. There's a chance he's been here in England for a while so Ron and I are following that lead. We're headed to Scotland Yard with a photo of Caron."
"I want to come with you," the older Weasley said immediately. "I can't just sit around doing nothing."
Potter shook his head. "That's a waste of time. We need you to go to Alicia's place and have a dig around. I was going to send some Aurors over to run a search, but you might find something quicker since you know your way around the flat and you know Alicia's habits."
"All right. I can do that. If I find something I'll bring it straight to the Ministry."
"Good. Just stay positive, all right. There's dozens of people across two countries working on the case now. I'm sure we'll get a break soon."
Christopher wasn't a naturally optimistic person, so his mind was filled with nothing but worst-case-scenarios. He went to open his front door to let the Aurors out, only to find another unwanted visitor on his doorstep.
"Draco," Christopher muttered unhappily. "To what do I owe this pleasure?"
The blonde sniffed and lifted his chin. "Father sent me to find out why you cancelled our meeting today. He's not happy you wasted our time, but he's graciously agreed to see you now if you come back with me."
"Something came up, like I said in the letter I sent. It's an unforeseen emergency and I'm still dealing with it."
"Well that's our final offer, Warrington. It's now or never," Malfoy replied flatly. "This is your one shot at redemption. What could be more important than that?"
"Oh, just shut up already, Malfoy."
Christopher sighed wearily at the interruption. Malfoy recognised the acerbic voice of Weasley junior immediately and his pale eyebrows shot up in disbelief. He peered around Christopher and stared open mouthed at the Weasley brothers and Potter.
"Are you serious?" Malfoy crowed. "This is why you're too busy to meet with us? You're having a tea party with a couple of weasels and Potter? I can't wait to tell father about this. I warned him that you were a wannabe Gryffindor now and this proves it. Wait till everyone hears about this. All those idiots who wanted you back in the fold will have to eat their words now."
"I don't fucking care, Draco," Christopher snapped. "You can also tell Lucius that I don't need his charity. My mother can run Warrington Manufacturing into the ground for all I care."
"Have you lost your mind? Father's going to be furious about this! You won't be able to come crawling back when the Gryffindors all turn their backs on you. It's only a matter of time, you know. Everyone eventually gives up on you and leaves you high and dry."
Christopher shook his head, unaffected by that comment because he knew now that wasn't the case. "You're wrong there. Not everyone gives up on me. One person didn't and I'm not going to give up on her now either. I'm done with the lot of you from now on."
Malfoy opened his mouth to say something else, but Christopher cut him off. "You have thirty seconds to vacate my property before I tell everyone within earshot where you like to spend every Friday evening."
"Oooh. Where do you go on Fridays, Malfoy?" the younger Weasley called from behind them.
"You wouldn't dare," Malfoy hissed, his eyes narrowed to slits.
"Try me. The same goes for the others. I'll keep all your dirty little secrets so long as you stay away from me."
Malfoy started to back away, shaking his head in disbelief. "You don't even understand what you're turning down. Father was going to offer you a partnership that would set you up for the rest of your life. No more playing nice with idiotic Muggles and Gryffindors."
"Goodbye, Draco," Christopher said curtly, then he turned his back on him.
"What do you think, Ron? I bet he gets his hair dyed on Fridays. I've always suspected he isn't a natural blonde."
Christopher left the three Gryffindors to speculate further and retreated to his kitchen to take a moment to steady himself. He'd well and truly burned his bridges now. There would be no crawling back to Lucius Malfoy after such blatant disrespect. His mother would cut him off once and for all and the family business would continue its steady decline into oblivion.
That thought didn't distress him as much as it should have though. The truth was, a reunion with all of his former housemates now would be a regression. He'd moved on from all that a long time ago. Without Alicia beside him it had seemed like he had no choice but to return to the Slytherin fold. But he could forge his own path now.
The first step on that path was clear to him: he had to find Alicia.
"Are you coming to the flat or not?" Weasley demanded as he marched back into the kitchen.
"Is that really the best use of my time?" Christopher asked. "I could stay here and ask my French associates if they've heard of Caron."
"The Aurors are already chasing that lead. There might be something helpful back at the flat and two sets of eyes will make the search go faster."
Christopher nodded. Weasley would likely miss a salient clue anyway. "Fine. I'll have to use the nearby Apparition Point then meet you up there though."
Weasley ducked his head and made his way towards the backdoor. "I'll have to do the same. Alicia didn't get around to readjusting her wards so that I can appear directly in the flat."
Christopher frowned as he locked the house up and retrieved his wand from his pocket. "What? Why in the world wouldn't she set that up for you?"
"I didn't want to push the point, all right," Weasley snapped. "I've always respected her boundaries and I figure she has to consider Jake as well so it makes sense she doesn't give everyone permission to just Apparate into the flat."
"You're hardly everyone," Christopher pointed out. "It doesn't make sense at all."
"Yes, well I'm beginning to find that's a theme with her."
Weasley disappeared with a sharp crack. Christopher began to consider a few things then. The suddenness of Alicia's return to England, her decision to move into a building with several levels of security. Not to mention her strange request to talk to him in private the night of the Quidditch match. A very bad feeling settled into the pit of his stomach and he gritted his teeth and concentrated on the Ministry Apparition Point right near Alicia's block of flats.
Weasley was already striding away down the alley when Christopher materialised. He stashed his wand and jogged to catch up with the redhead.
"This is where he brought her," Weasley said as he continued his brisk pace. "Alicia was right here only a few hours ago. She was terrified."
"She's tough and resourceful when she needs to be. I've seen her in action," Christopher said, vainly attempting to reassure the other man. "The initial shock will wear off and she'll kick and scream and fight and do whatever she has to to get away."
"I hope you're right."
They continued the rest of the way in silence. Inside the flat they both stood by the front door, unsure of where to even start looking. It didn't help that they had no clue what to even look for in the first place.
"Where would she hide something?" Weasley mused, seemingly to himself.
He moved towards the kitchen and began opening random drawers. Christopher watched him rifle fruitlessly through a couple before a thought struck him. He suddenly remembered an odd habit of Alicia's he'd witnessed back in Paris. "Wait. Her underwear drawer! I remember she used to hide stuff in there."
Christopher immediately headed for the bedroom. Weasley raced over and grabbed the back of his shirt to halt his progress. "Don't even think about it. I'll do the searching in there. You stay right where you are."
Christopher rolled his eyes, but stayed put in the doorway as requested. He was tempted to tell Weasley that he'd seen everything in that drawer already and he'd likely paid for a good portion of it, but that comment didn't make it through the Fuckhead Filter. In fact, being called a fuckhead would be the best-case scenario if he said something like that to Weasley.
Wherever Alicia was, Christopher hoped she was proud of him.
"There's nothing here," Weasley said, then followed it up with a string of swear words. "I knew that would be too easy."
"Are you sure? There could be something right at the back."
"I'm not an idiot. I know how to search a bloody drawer and…oh. Wait. There's a stack of parchments right at the back."
Christopher held his breath. It could be something completely innocuous, like overdue bills or Jake's birth certificates. Weasley unfolded the first parchment and his eyes scanned it quickly.
"Well? What did you find?" Christopher demanded.
"Looks like a bunch of letters. This one's written in French though." Weasley flicked through the rest of the pile. "They're all in fucking French."
He thrust the parchments at Christopher then stormed of the bedroom. The letters were all in the same handwriting and used the same shade of blood red ink. Christopher read the first page and his heart immediately sank. Alicia was definitely in trouble. He quickly read through the next few of them, finding the threatening language escalating with each correspondence.
Alicia had written dates on the top corner of each letter and Christopher was horrified to see it had been going on for months. The last bit of parchment, however, was written in English and it was from Tiberius Ogden.
Christopher swore under his breath and made his way out to the kitchen. Weasley was sitting at the table, head in his hands, eyes downcast. "Please tell me those are just some old love letters from a French boyfriend," he said without lifting his head.
"Afraid not. Someone's been threatening her for the last few months. It started back in France, but there's a couple of letters here she received recently. Someone thinks Alicia stole their money."
Weasley's head snapped back at that revelation. "Money? Alicia hasn't got any money of her own, let alone someone else's. Why would someone think that?"
"I wouldn't have a bloody clue," Christopher replied. "I think I know someone who might have some idea though. This letter was at the bottom of the pile. Don't worry, it's in English."
Christopher tossed the letter from Ogden onto the table then waited for Weasley to read it. His eyes grew wider as they scanned each line of neat cursive. Finally, he finished reading and held the letter aloft triumphantly. "I knew Ogden had something to do with all this! According to this he's due to arrive back in England tomorrow. I better get all these down to the Ministry so Harry and Ron can have a look. This might be the break we need."
"It's certainly more than we had half an hour ago," Christopher agreed, his pessimism preventing him from being anymore jubilant than that. "I'll come with you so I can translate the letters right away. That'll be quicker than waiting for a Ministry translator to show up."
Weasley nodded and seemed a little sheepish for a moment. Christopher realised that it hadn't been so long ago that they'd both been alone in Alicia's flat like this. Their current positions had been reversed though and Christopher had been the one sitting at the table feeling miserable.
"I appreciate your help with all this," Weasley said, though the grimace on his face made it clear the words left a bad taste in his mouth.
"I'm doing it for Alicia," Christopher replied. "Everything you said last week was completely true. I've been dragging her down for years. This is the first time she's ever needed me and I'm going to make sure I don't let her down. She's always seen the best in me and I want to prove her right. I'm not looking for forgiveness or redemption here – I just want her to be safe."
"You know her better than I do," Weasley said. Christopher opened his mouth to refute that but Weasley held up a hand to interrupt him. "No. It's an undeniable fact. You had years alone with her and I'm still playing catch up. I've been deluding myself this whole time pretending that I knew what was going on with her. I thought she was just tired and stretched thin. You were the one who thought there was something more to it."
"But I didn't do anything about it."
"Yes, because you're a selfish prick. We've already established that. What I'm trying to say here is that we're going to have to keep working together if we're going to help Alicia get out of this mess. I need your personal insight and you need my lateral thinking."
"And once she's safe and sound back home we never have to speak to each other again?"
"That's the plan."
Christopher nodded crisply. "Works for me. Let's get down to the Ministry then."
Weasley jumped to his feet, the letter from Ogden still clutched in his hand. "Right. I still have my visitor pass from earlier so I'll meet you in the Auror department."
Christopher held on tight to the rest of the letters and pictured the Apparition Point in Whitehall that was closest to the visitor's entrance. Since it was Sunday afternoon, the atrium was mostly empty. It didn't take long to get through security either. He'd never been to the Auror department so that took a bit of finding and he was a little out of breath when he finally got there.
Weasley was sitting at a desk, his head in his hands again. About half a dozen Aurors, including Potter, were milling around looking rather subdued.
"Excuse me. Why is no one doing anything?" Christopher demanded. "Did you not see the letter from Ogden? Someone should be trying to contact him."
Potter stepped forward then and calmly replied, "We've been trying to locate Tiberius ever since George showed up here this morning. Only a handful of people in the world knew where he moved to though. Kingsley Shacklebolt himself told us where to find him. We have a small contingency of British Ministry officials stationed in the Turks and Caicos Islands so we sent one of them to talk to Tiberius."
"And what did he have to say for himself? Is he the reason Alicia was abducted?" Christopher turned to find Weasley now staring at him with a hollow expression on his face. Clearly something bad had happened. "Wait. Don't tell me he's been taken as well."
Potter shook his head solemnly. "No. Tiberius Ogden is dead."
A/N: Sorry you had to wait so long for an update. I wasn't motivated for months then I ended up writing half the chapter in about a day. I apologise if it feels rushed and is full of typos. Hopefully it won't be such a long wait for the next chapter. We'll get to see what Alicia's been going through. Thanks to everyone who's sticking around. Knowing that you're out there has been keeping me writing.
