It's July 15th, 2022, and Sarah Walker has finally scored her dream job—working with dolphins at the Monterey Bay Aquarium Research Institute. Socially awkward and academically driven, Sarah's never found love—but when she meets a tech genius whose inventions have the chance to make her research a reality, she finds herself falling for him. Together, their work could change the world … that is, unless someone else gets hold of it first.

Disclaimer: We don't own Chuck…

Chapter 17: Marley's Chains

For the first time since she'd moved to Monterey, Sarah's cottage felt stuffy, claustrophobic. Kicking off her sandals, she crossed to the living room windows and opened them, letting the ocean breeze in, while Chuck set his laptop bag down in the corner. On the coffee table was a sage-and-rosemary candle that her mom had mailed to her as part of a care package; she lit it, letting the familiar scent fill the room. Then she sat down heavily on the couch, tucking her feet beneath her.

Chuck came to join her, and she leaned against him. He stroked her hair, his touch soothing, and bit by bit, she felt herself relax. "Thank you for being so supportive today," she said at last.

"Of course." He tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. "We'll get him, Sarah. Don't worry."

He sounded so self-assured, it made her feel a little better. "I'm just sorry that you got dragged into this mess," she said, her eyes fixed on the beautiful painting he'd given her, which she'd propped up on the mantel. "You've done so much for me, and now you might wind up having to cough up even more money for legal fees. I wouldn't blame you for deciding this was too much for you. I mean, all you wanted to do was take a nice, relaxing vacation and now here you are, in the middle of all this … drama."

They'd just come from the lawyer's office. The meeting had gone well; Chuck and Laszlo had put together a portfolio of documentation, and when Zondra had looked through it, she'd shaken her head, disgusted.

"Honestly?" the lawyer had said, pointing at the stack of manila folders in front of her. "Based on what I just read, his accusations, as well as his patents, have been falsified. It looks like a ploy to try and coerce you into making some kind of deal—which is illegal, I might add. I don't think you have much to worry about. Give me until the end of the day to vet and sort out everything, and then I'll be in touch." She'd turned to Sarah, smiling. "I can't make any promises, but unless anything unexpected pops up, you should be able to resume your research tomorrow. I don't think Larkin and Shaw have a leg to stand on. And if they've done what it looks like they've done"—she'd spared a fierce look for Laszlo and Chuck—"I'll be going after them with everything in my arsenal, and I'd suggest you advise your attorneys to do the same."

In the determined expression on Zondra's face, Sarah had recognized a kindred spirit. She couldn't wait for the lawyer to make good on her promise to take legal action against Bryce—it would feel like Christmas morning to watch him go down in flames. Still, it pissed her off that Chuck had gotten caught in the middle of this farce.

He straightened, looking down at her. "None of this is your fault, Sarah. You're not responsible for any of it."

She folded her arms across her chest. "Yeah, but if I hadn't—"

"If you hadn't … what? You didn't ask Bryce to come here. In fact, you asked him to leave. If this is on anyone's head other than his, it's on Beckman's. Don't waste time blaming yourself. You've done nothing to deserve this."

"I just—I hate him." She hugged herself tighter. "He didn't just take credit for your tech, which is bad enough—he probably wrecked our standing in the scientific community. Going to the media like that—it looks like we were trying to avoid peer review, like all we were after was name recognition and fame. Meet Dr. Sarah Walker, New Age hack."

This was what got to Sarah the most. They worked in the same field; Bryce had to have known how hard she'd worked to establish her credibility in a field full of researchers who'd constantly mocked her and torn her down. Finally, her validation had been within reach—and he'd firebombed her reputation, for the sake of building up his own. On top of that, he'd lied to her. Again.

Maybe she'd call every girlfriend he'd ever had and summon a revenge posse—because she was sure she wasn't the only one he'd wronged. Or maybe she'd hold a press conference of her own and shine a spotlight on the small size of his—

Chuck got to his feet, pacing the room. The old floorboards creaked in protest as he strode back and forth. "I just don't get how this could have happened. I've looked at those blueprints—they weren't perfect, but they were pretty damn close. It just doesn't make any sense."

Sarah took a deep breath, watching the white curtains billow in the breeze. It was easier to look at them than at Chuck's face. "I'm probably just being paranoid," she said, "but you don't think Laszlo somehow colluded with Bryce, do you? I mean, he had access to all of the technology …"

Chuck snorted, and when she found the courage to look at him, he was smiling—a wry grin that was almost entirely without humor. "I'm not sure if you've noticed, Sarah, but Laz can't stand Bryce. He'd sooner gnaw off his own arm than collaborate with him. In fact, he's probably hunkered down somewhere right now, planning forty-seven different ways to dismember the guy."

"Fair enough." Sarah ran her fingers over the piping at the edge of the couch cushion, fighting the urge to start pacing herself.

"But someone managed to get their hands on those specs," Chuck said, coming to a halt in front of her. "And I'll be damned if I know how."

Sarah bit her lip. "You don't think Bryce somehow hacked Morgan, do you? Clearly, scruples aren't his strong suit. If he'd lie about all of this and try to steal your tech, then I wouldn't put it past him to try to break into your AI. You saw how impressed he was with Morgan—practically drooling over it."

Slowly, Chuck shook his head. "I thought of that—but, well, I don't know if I ever told you this, but I used to make my living in cyber-security. It's how I got my start. To get through all the fail-safes I have on Morgan … I don't mean to sound arrogant, but you'd have to be one of the best hackers in the world to pull it off—a hell of a lot more talented than Bryce Larkin."

Sarah opened her mouth to comment—it was so rare that Chuck said anything that could remotely be considered bragging or even acknowledging the strength of his accomplishments—just as his phone rang. He dug it out of the pocket of his jeans, glanced at his caller ID, and said, "Hang on, Sarah, it's my lawyer. I've got to take this."

He stepped onto the back porch, shutting the door behind him. Through the window, Sarah got a glimpse of him sitting down on one of her rocking chairs. Then she heard the low rumble of his voice.

Maybe his lawyer had good news. Sarah hoped so. She sat, waiting, thinking through all of the odd events of the past few days. She had so many questions, and not nearly enough answers.

Then it occurred to her—Chuck had given her the ability to access Morgan. As powerful as the AI was, surely it could help her resolve at least some of the mysteries that had been plaguing her.

Her phone was on the coffee table. She picked it up, then sat back against the couch cushions. "Morgan," she said, feeling slightly foolish, "are you there?"

"Of course," the AI responded without hesitation. "How may I be of service?"

Determined, Sarah posed one of the questions that had been gnawing at her for days. "What can you tell me about Sedna?"

"Sedna," the AI said, as if pondering. "She is the goddess of the sea and marine animals in Inuit mythology, also known as the Mother, or Mistress, of the Sea. Have you been seized by a sudden interest in folklore?"

"Thanks for the explanation," she said, amused by the fact that she felt the need to be polite to the AI. It just sounded so … human. "And no, I haven't. I was just wondering what you can tell me about the foundation that's funding my work."

"Oh!" Morgan said, sounding happier. "Well, when Chuck and I were thinking up names for the foundation…"

Her heart plummeted—then started pounding. Surely she'd heard incorrectly. "Wait, what did you say?"

"You see, when you start a foundation, you have to name it," Morgan said, as if the problem lay in the logic of foundation-founding rather than the fact that Chuck had hidden the truth about fronting the money for the next five years of her livelihood. "Chuck and I thought about it for quite a while. He had some terrible ideas, Sarah. You should have heard them. But then he came up with this one—and we agreed … it was perfect."

Sarah gritted her teeth. "So," she said, wanting to be absolutely clear, "Chuck started the Sedna Foundation."

"Of course!" Morgan sounded happier than ever. "It's an excellent investment. One should always invest in technology, Sarah. I'm living proof of that. Well, not living—but you know what I mean. Chuck and I had a bit of an argument about that, actually. He said he wasn't investing in the technology—he was investing in you. He really likes you, by the way. It's too bad he wouldn't let me tell you any of the fantastic jokes I came up with when you first met. And they were such good jokes, too. You should have heard the one about Yoda…"

"Never mind the jokes!" Sarah got to her feet, feeling sick to her stomach. "Are you saying Chuck started the Sedna Foundation for me—just to fund my project?"

"Naturally! There was no way he was going to let Bryce Larkin hold that over your head—that's what he said. It took him a little while to come up with the idea. But once he did, it wasn't that hard to put into action. It took a few days…"

Morgan kept talking, but Sarah was too furious to listen. She'd trusted Chuck. Let her guard down with him, believed in him. And all along, he'd been scheming behind her back. He'd let her think some mysterious angel investor with a passion for her project had appeared out of nowhere, had let her go on and on when she wondered who might be behind the Sedna Foundation—and all along, it had been him.

No wonder he hadn't been worried that she would lose her funding. He was her funding. He was in complete control of the project, and at any moment, he could decide to rescind his support, just like the Jensen Foundation had done. This was why it was so dangerous to have a project funded by a single source; putting all your eggs in one proverbial basket was risky at best. What if their relationship didn't work out, or he got angry with her about something, or changed his mind? Would he just yank the funding? Talk about holding something over her head!

She stood there, fuming, as the front door swung open and Chuck walked back inside, smiling. "Sarah!" he said. "I think I might have figured out how Bryce…"

He must have seen the look of outrage on her face, because his voice trailed off. "Um, what's …?"

"What's the matter?" Sarah's voice cracked. "You know damn well what the matter is! You lied to me about the Sedna Foundation. You lied to me about the money! You let me stand there and wonder who might be funding it, where they came from, what their motivations were—and the whole time, you were behind the whole thing. How could you?"

His expression stricken, he glanced from her face to the phone in her hand, clearly putting two and two together. "I guess you asked Morgan—"

"Damn right I asked Morgan! I guess you didn't think of that when you gave me access to your pride and joy." She glared at him, trying to keep from crying … again. "I thought you were different, Chuck. But you're just like everyone else. All you want to do is control me!"

He shook his head, looking miserable. "No, Sarah, I never—"

"Don't bother trying to explain. I can't believe anything that comes out of your mouth, so why waste your breath?" She took a step toward him, brandishing her phone. "I bet you were overjoyed to learn that the Jensen Foundation backed out—and even more thrilled to see how pissed I was that Bryce offered to underwrite the project. It gave you the perfect in. And me—God, I'm so gullible. I believed every word you said. I even asked you to move here!" Thank God she hadn't said she was falling in love with him—that would have been even more mortifying, if such a thing was possible. She'd thought she'd learned better after Bryce—that this time she'd finally chosen a man who was everything Bryce and her father weren't. Clearly, she'd been wrong.

"You can believe me, Sarah, I promise." He held his hands out, palms up, as if in supplication. "I know I didn't tell you about Sedna, but it's not what you think, I swear. If you'd just let me explain…"

"Like I said before, don't bother." Putting every bit of her fury into her eyes, she glared at him, and he retreated in the face of it, taking one step backward, then another, until he collided with the wall. "In fact, you should probably leave before I do something I'll really regret. I thought you were different, but it looks like I was wrong—again. You're no better than Bryce!"

A horrible silence fell between them. Chuck looked devastated—his face pale, his eyes glossy with unshed tears—and for a moment, Sarah felt a terrible twinge of guilt. Maybe she should have let him tell her why he'd done it—but no. This was how it always started. You let them explain, and the next thing you knew, they were telling you something perfectly logical, charming you into believing why it had been the right—the only—course of action, and the next thing you knew, you were apologizing to them and waltzing right back into their arms …

Well, that wasn't happening this time. She didn't care how miserable he looked or what explanation he gave her. She wasn't falling for it.

They stared at each other, at an impasse. Chuck opened his mouth, then shut it again. In the depths of his dark eyes she could swear she saw genuine heartache—but she steeled herself, not allowing herself to succumb. Sure, maybe he felt sad to be losing her—but he'd treated her like a possession, something he could buy.

Chuck's gaze fell from hers. Without a word, he snatched his laptop bag from the floor and slung it over his shoulder, then yanked open the front door and stepped through. A few seconds later, she heard the crunch of tires on gravel as he backed out of the driveway.

Stepping to the window, half-concealed by the curtain, Sarah watched him go. Only when his taillights had disappeared from sight did she allow herself to cry.

OoOoOoOoO

Sarah hardly slept that night, tossing and turning, waking up tangled in the bedclothes every time she managed to drift off. Her dreams were awful, filled with betrayals and lies, in which Chuck, Bryce, and her father all played starring roles. Worse still, her first instinct when she woke up, in search of reassurance, was to reach for Chuck. How had he become so essential to her, so quickly? And why did she have such terrible taste in men?

Despite herself, she checked her phone as soon as she got out of bed. There was a voicemail from Beckman, letting her know that she was free to proceed with her research—that Zondra didn't think the lawsuit would ever hold up in court—but Chuck hadn't called ... not that she'd really expected he would. She'd asked him to leave, and he'd done so; at least he respected her wishes in that regard.

Feeling exhausted, she showered, made a quick to-go cup of coffee in her Keurig, and drove to work. When all else failed, she'd always turned to school or her job to get her through tough times.

Her phone rang while she was driving, but she ignored it—texting while she was on the road was one of her pet peeves. When she pulled into the parking deck and glanced at it, though, she saw that it was Ellie.

Oh, just fabulous. No doubt she was calling to plead Chuck's case. A pang shot through Sarah's stomach at the thought of that conversation; did breaking up with Chuck mean she was going to lose Ellie as a friend, too? They hadn't known each other long, but Sarah had so hoped they would become close. She didn't make friends easily, thanks to her long-standing trust issues, and meeting Chuck and his sister had seemed like an unbelievable stroke of luck.

Well, it had been unbelievable all right. Now that she thought about it, surely Ellie had known about her brother's high-handed attempt to control Sarah's project by manipulating the funding. Had Ellie encouraged Chuck to do this—maybe even come up with the idea?

Feeling even more frustrated than before, she dropped her phone into her purse, got out of her car—and came face-to-face with none other than Ellie herself.

"Sarah? Thank God." Ellie's face lit with relief. "Have you seen Chuck? He's not answering his phone and I'm starting to get worried."

Was it possible that Ellie didn't know what had happened between them—that Chuck hadn't said a word? Sarah shifted her weight, feeling self-conscious. "I have no idea where he is."

Ellie's look of relief faded, transmuting into concern. "What do you mean, you don't know where he is? Didn't he stay at your place last night?"

Mutely, Sarah shook her head. Despite her anger with Chuck, she was starting to get worried, herself. If he hadn't gone back to Ellie's rental cottage, then where had he gone?

As Ellie stared at her, as if trying to figure out what lay behind her silence, she couldn't help but replay the last thing she'd said to Chuck, before he'd walked out. You should probably leave before I do something I'll really regret… You're no better than Bryce! Was it possible he'd gotten in his car and driven home to Cupertino? But surely Ellie would have noticed if Chuck had packed up his stuff—and he wouldn't have gone home without his clothes and toiletries … would he?

Try as she might, Sarah couldn't dismiss the image of his expression when she'd accused him of being just like her ex. He'd worn the same look of hurt and loss she'd seen in the mirror the day she'd caught Bryce cheating. She'd had to harden her heart, telling herself it didn't matter; he should feel bad. After all, he'd lied to her. And once the door had closed behind him, she'd been so busy hurling recriminations his way—if only in her own mind—that she hadn't given too much thought to where he'd gone.

"Sarah." Ellie's voice was hard. "What happened between the two of you?"

Damn it. "We had a fight, okay?"

"A fight?" Ellie's eyebrows knitted. "About what?"

"I'm sure you can guess." She narrowed her eyes. "But if you need me to spell it out—we had a massive blowout about the fact that Chuck decided to underwrite my entire operation under the guise of an anonymous foundation—and he didn't feel the need to inform me. And when it was over, he left."

"He left, huh? Sure, that sounds just like Chuck." Ellie's voice was dripping with sarcasm. "He'd never walk out on you, Sarah—not unless you drove him away. What did you say to make him leave?"

Incensed, Sarah's voice rose. "What did I say? Have you been listening to anything I've been telling you? He lied to me, Ellie!"

Ellie stood her ground, her features hardening. "What. Did. You. Say?"

The hell with this. Why was Sarah being labeled as the bad guy—bad girl?—here, when she was the one who'd been wronged? Pushed to the breaking point, she snapped. "I told him he was no better than Bryce, okay?"

"You … what?" Ellie's mouth fell open.

Saying it for a second time hadn't made Sarah feel any better. In fact, she felt increasingly guilty. Still, how could she back down now? "You heard me," she said, meeting Ellie's gaze.

"Wow." Ellie shook her head, disgust filling her eyes. "Well, if that's what you really think, then you don't deserve him. I won't bother explaining his motives, since clearly I'd be wasting my time. Good luck finding a man anywhere near as amazing as my little brother." With that, she turned on her heel and stomped off, yanking open the door of her sedan and gunning the motor as she pulled out of the parking deck.

Sarah watched her go, feeling more exhausted—and guiltier—by the moment. Was it possible that she'd really just overreacted—that there was a reasonable explanation behind all of this? Had she allowed her own insecurities and trigger-button issues to get the better of her, treating Chuck horribly and alienating Ellie in the process?

No. He'd gone behind her back. He'd deliberately kept this information from her when he knew she was actively trying to figure out Sedna's identity and motives. In what universe was that okay?

It was 8:45 AM, and she already felt like she'd been awake for days on end. Summoning all the professionalism she could muster, she adjusted her grip on her coffee cup, squared her shoulders, and strode down the block toward the Aquarium.

Before she made it to the entrance, she could see the news van parked outside, as well as the reporters who were milling around, hoping for a scoop. There was no way to avoid them; if she wanted to get inside, she'd have to go through them. Straightening her spine, she took another step—and two of the reporters' heads jerked up, as if scenting blood in the water.

"Dr. Walker?" one of them—a brunette with perfectly coiffed hair and a blue pantsuit—said, barreling toward her. "You are Sarah Walker, right? What can you tell us about Bryce Larkin's claim that DolphinSpeak has been able to bridge the interspecies communication gap?"

Not to be outdone, the second reporter followed right behind the first. "Dr. Walker! How long have you been working on this research? Can you show us anything that would support Larkin's claim?"

Sarah's heart started to pound. She wasn't articulate at the best of times—which this definitely was not. "No comment," she said as Beckman had instructed her to, trying to push her way past both of them.

But the brunette was tenacious, and wouldn't be so easily dismissed. "I understand that, at this early stage, some elements of your research may not be ready for a public reveal. What made you decide to go to the media so soon? And what exactly is DolphinSpeak's relationship to the Aquarium?"

The rapid-fire questions felt like a fusillade of gunfire, and Sarah felt herself begin to crumple under their onslaught. "No comment," she said again, wishing more than anything that she could speak her mind. She was no good at evasiveness or subterfuge—unlike some people she knew.

"Dr. Walker—"

Sarah gritted her teeth, about to give the brunette a piece of her mind, Beckman's orders to keep quiet or no. But then Milton was there, putting himself between her and the reporters.

"Dr. Walker said no comment," he told them, and for the first time, Sarah was aware of just how big the security guard was. His age didn't detract from his air of authority—in fact, it seemed to lend him some credibility. The two reporters backed up, and Milton escorted Sarah inside, leveling the entire press contingent with a menacing glare that was so unlike his usual jovial self, it might have seemed amusing—if Sarah hadn't been grateful for its effect.

"Thank you," she told him as the front door of the Aquarium swung shut and Milton turned to lock it behind them, her sincerity ringing clear in her voice. "I don't know what I would have done if you hadn't been there. I can usually handle myself pretty well, but they just weren't giving up."

"You're very welcome." Milton looked over his shoulder. "They've been out there for an hour or so, just waiting for someone to pounce on. It was my pleasure to send them on their way. Vultures."

Together, they walked to the elevator. He pressed the call button that would take them to the third floor, then scrutinized her face more closely. "Are you okay? If you don't mind my saying so, you look pretty tired—and more upset than running the gauntlet with a bunch of cub reporters would usually warrant."

Sarah opened her mouth to tell him she was just fine—and burst into tears. Without a word, Milton reached into the inside pocket of his jacket and handed her one of the clean handkerchiefs he always seemed to have on hand. The elevator announced its arrival with a cheerful ding, and the doors eased open. She blotted her face as she and Milton stepped inside, but it was no use: The handkerchief smelled of Tide and Old Spice, a dad-like aroma that made her cry even harder.

As the doors whooshed shut and the car began to rise, Milton cleared his throat. "Feel like talking about it?"

Miserable, she shook her head—and then started speaking, just the same. "You know how the Sedna Foundation stepped in and said they were going to underwrite my research for the next five years? I'm sure you've heard—Lou said everyone was talking about it."

Looking mystified, he nodded. "Yep. But I thought that was good news, surely?"

"I thought so too. Except—I'd never heard of Sedna before. I couldn't find anything about them online. And last night—" She hiccupped, wiping her face again. "Last night, I found out that Sedna and Chuck are one and the same. He's putting up all the money…every cent of it. He created the Foundation for the express purpose of funding my project!"

The elevator came to a stop as Milton shot her a sideways glance. "I'm not the least bit surprised. Good for him."

Did no one understand how problematic and manipulative this was? "Did you not hear me, Milton?" Sarah said, stepping out of the elevator with him right behind her. "He kept it from me! He let me believe he had no idea who was behind Sedna. And the whole time, it was him!"

"Well, of course he did." The security guard rolled his eyes. "I wouldn't have expected that silly boy to do anything else."

"So you agree with what he did?" Honestly, Sarah couldn't take much more of this.

Milton chuckled. "I didn't say that."

Frustrated, she leveled her gaze at him. "Then you can see how wrong it was for him to do that to me?"

He shook his head. "I didn't say that, either."

It was like talking to a Magic 8 Ball. "Then what are you saying?" Her voice broke.

Milton's face softened. When he spoke, his tone was kind. "Sarah … search your heart. I haven't known you for very long, but as brilliant as you are, sometimes you have a tendency to get in your own way—blocking out what your heart is saying. Once you listen—really listen—to what it has to say, you'll know the truth."

"Great," she mumbled. A fucking Zen koan. There wasn't nearly enough coffee in her mug to equip her to deal with this.

They crossed to the door that led to the prep room together, and he unlocked it for her. Then, without another word, he held the door open for her, gave her a knowing nod, spun on his heel, and left.

Sarah strode across the prep room, breathing in the familiar scent of fish and bleach. She paused in front of the door that led to the dive platform, wishing for a moment that, when she opened it, Chuck would be standing on the other side, smiling at her. She knew he wouldn't be there; she'd told him to leave, and after what Ellie had told her this morning, she had no reason to believe he hadn't listened. Still, the feeling was there, buried beneath her anger.

Heaving a resigned sigh, she pushed open the door. Sure enough, only Laszlo and Lou stood on the other side, next to all of the equipment they'd left behind yesterday, after they'd gotten the email from Shaw. Two buckets of fish sat at Lou's feet, positive reinforcements for the day's work to come.

Sarah was surprised to see Laz there—and equally puzzled that Chuck had left the equipment behind, including the Intersect. She'd been prepared for him to have stopped by early this morning to pick it up before he headed out of town. Maybe Ellie was right to have been worried. Had something happened to him? Why would he just leave all of his stuff here for them to use?

Laszlo looked up as she stepped onto the platform, his eyebrows rising when he saw that she was alone. "Where's Bartowski? I thought he'd be with you."

So Chuck hadn't told Laszlo anything, either? Mounting guilt—and even more worry—began to wind through Sarah. Had she made a mistake—underestimated Chuck? Had he truly just funded her project out of sheer generosity? If that was the case, then what she'd done—the things she'd said—

"I don't know," she mumbled, unable to look Laszlo in the eye.

"Okay," he said, drawing out the word. "Have you spoken to him today?"

She shook her head.

"I haven't, either," Laszlo said. "I texted him, but he didn't write back—which isn't like him, even when he's in the middle of a project." He folded his arms across his chest. "Maybe I should call Ellie—"

"No!" Sarah interrupted before he could go any further. The last thing she needed was to drag Chuck's sister into this. She'd already gotten her personal and professional lives mixed up far beyond the bounds of propriety. Once Laszlo knew what she'd said to Chuck, she was sure he'd hate her, too.

"Let's just get to work," she said, trying to sound assertive rather than desperate. "Dr. Beckman said the lawyer gave us the green light, so we might as well keep going. I'm sure Chuck will show up." Surely he would, to get his stuff? Which begged the question—how would she continue her research if all of the equipment was gone?

"You're the boss," Laszlo said, shrugging—but it didn't sound like he meant it.

This was a prime example of why she kept a bright line between her work life and any kind of romantic entanglement. With a sigh, Sarah pulled her laptop off the cart, about to summon Morgan and get started. Then it occurred to her that maybe she didn't have admin control—or even access—to the AI anymore. Maybe Chuck hadn't taken the time to pick up his equipment, but it probably wouldn't take more than a few seconds for him to remove her access.

Well, just like Bryce, she had no right to his tech. She'd made the decision to send him away; she needed to deal with the consequences. Hell, at any moment she half expected Diane to call, telling her that Sedna had pulled out, just like Jensen.

Anxiety twisting her stomach, she cleared her throat. "Morgan, are you there?"

Immediately, the AI responded, "Good morning, Sarah."

Sarah didn't know what to think. She and Chuck had had that awful fight—but he hadn't taken away her access to Morgan. Did that mean he was coming back? Had he just not gotten around to blocking her yet? Or was he just that decent of a human being? Sarah had a horrible feeling that it might be the latter—in which case, she herself had acted like a bitch of outstanding proportions.

Her distress must have shown on her face, because Lou stepped up next to her, putting a comforting hand on her arm. "Sarah, are you okay?"

"I'm fine," she said, unable to meet the trainer's eyes. "Why don't you and Laszlo get started? I'll just—I need to check my email first."

It was the lamest excuse imaginable, and from the skeptical look that crossed both Laszlo and Lou's faces, she could tell that neither of them bought it. Still, they complied; Laszlo bent to unpack the Intersect while Lou busied herself with kneeling at the edge of the tank to call the dolphins.

Desperate for distraction, Sarah did, indeed, check her email. Her inbox was its usual mix of upcoming conference announcements, reminders about grant reports, and research alerts. She went through, scanning and deleting, until a message from an accounting firm caught her eye.

Now what? Had Bryce somehow gotten her on the hook for some kind of monstrous personal debt, and this firm was announcing its intent to seize her imaginary assets? With an audible groan, she clicked the message to open it.

Dear Dr. Walker,

Congratulations on your recent multiyear funding commitment from the Sedna Foundation. The Foundation has expressed considerable interest and excitement in your project's potential and looks forward to seeing what the next several years will bring.

As the sole trustee of the funds granted to you by Sedna, you will be required to approve the Foundation's annual expenditures for your project no later than August 21st. While the Foundation's president will have access to your budget documentation, within the amount granted to you on an annual basis you will have sole discretionary determination over how the funds are spent.

This is a general operating grant, functioning on an up-front funding rather than reimbursement basis. All spending will be subject to your personal approval rather than that of the Aquarium's director or board of trustees. Should you decide to leave your position at the Aquarium prior to the conclusion of the five-year funding period, the grant from the Sedna Foundation will confer to your future research institution rather than remaining with the Aquarium.

The words blurred in front of Sarah's eyes, and her breath caught in her throat. There was more to the letter, but she couldn't keep reading.

When Beckman had said that Sedna was willing to underwrite the entire project, based on the trustees' approval, she'd actually been saying trustee, singular. As in, Sarah was the Foundation's sole trustee.

Chuck had given this money to her, free and clear, with no strings. Not only hadn't he wanted to use it to control her—he didn't even want her employer to control her. He'd given it to her not to restrict her choices, but to empower her with more freedom than she'd ever imagined possible.

He'd given her Morgan. He'd given her Sedna—a foundation named for the goddess of the sea. Was that how he saw her? He'd given her himself. And what had she done? Thrown all of it away, because she was insecure, frightened, and hobbled by her past—like the freaking chains of Marley's ghost in A Christmas Carol, which she and her mom used to watch every year. The movie had always disturbed Sarah. She'd hated the idea of dragging her mistakes around with her, unable to see them or put them right. And now here she was, caught in a situation she could've avoided if only she'd had enough faith in Chuck to allow him to speak his mind.

She bit her lip, trying to figure out a way that she could possibly fix this—to apologize for just how wrong she'd been, even if he never forgave her for treating him so terribly—just as Lou called, "Sarah? We're ready for you."

A splashing sound came from the tank. Tears welling in her eyes, Sarah glanced to see Eden bobbing in the water, eyeing her curiously, Echo and Finn just a few feet behind her. The little dolphin chirped, as if asking a question.

Sarah had a few questions of her own. Should she call Chuck—or text him? But what if he didn't answer? Worse still, what if he answered and told her his sister had been right—if Sarah had been so willing to believe the worst of him, they shouldn't ever talk again?

No, this was a conversation that they needed to have in person. There was just one problem—she didn't have the slightest clue where he was, and neither, it seemed, did anyone else.

As she stood, debating what to do next, Laszlo caught her eye and held up the Intersect. "The cymatics rig's powered up, and it looks like this little guy's rarin' to go. Ready?"

Sarah had told Laszlo and Lou they were here to work; she couldn't just go tearing off after Chuck, could she? She could drive all over Monterey and not find him. Besides, she'd asked him to leave—what if he didn't want to be found?

"Sure," she told Laszlo, forcing out the word. He eyed her curiously, but placed the mechanical dolphin in the water and then stepped back, waiting.

Feeling as if each of her limbs weighed a thousand pounds, she walked over and knelt by the edge of the tank, next to Lou. Looking from the Intersect to Sarah, Eden chirped again, insistently. Her tone sounded different than usual—not like it had on the other occasions when she'd asked the mechanical dolphin to play. Sarah opened her mouth to ask Morgan to translate—but before she could get the words out, the AI translated, its tone slightly panicked, "Sarah … where Chuck?"

Sarah swallowed hard. Behind her, Laszlo said, drawing out the word, "Damn…"

She'd known that the little dolphin was attached to Chuck—that Eden demonstrated a clear preference for his company. But this—to notice that he wasn't in the room, to care enough to ask for him by name—it shattered Sarah, not least of all because she was desperate for an answer to that question herself.

She didn't trust her voice enough to answer. But she didn't have to, because Morgan—perhaps attuned to her emotional state via changes in her tone or body language—took the initiative. "Chuck's not here, Eden," the AI said. "It's just us today. Want to play with me?"

Eden chirped again, louder than ever, and Morgan translated: "Not play. Where Chuck? Need Chuck."

Stunned, Sarah reached out a tentative hand to stroke Eden's head, trying to calm her. "I know, baby girl. I miss him, too."

The dolphin looked into Sarah's eyes—and Sarah felt the world fall away as an inexplicable warmth washed over her. The tank was gone; their surroundings had vanished. It was just the two of them, staring at each other … and emanating from the little dolphin, Sarah could've sworn she felt an undiluted sense of love.

Was this what Chuck had felt when he and Eden connected? This sense of hopefulness—of possibility? He'd said he'd seen his memories of her—well, all Sarah could see was his face: the mortification stamped all over it when Peaches had bum-rushed her that first time; the intensity in his eyes when he'd kissed her on the beach; the desolation when she'd accused him of being just like Bryce.

But he wasn't, was he? He was nothing like her ex. He was pure of heart—and Eden had known from the start what had taken Sarah losing him to learn.

Sarah thought of what Milton had said before he'd walked back to the elevator: As brilliant as you are, sometimes you have a tendency to get in your own way—blocking out what your heart is saying. Once you listen—really listen—to what it has to say, you'll know the truth."

Well, she was listening now.

She thought of Chuck's joy-filled smile when his tech had worked, the first time they'd heard Finn 'say' her name. Of the nervous look on his face when he'd handed her the painting, as if afraid she could do anything but love it. Of his laser-sharp focus when he was working on a project; his childlike enthusiasm as he'd shared the constellation game with her; how at home he'd looked in the rocking chair on her front porch—as if he belonged there.

The little dolphin bumped her head against Sarah's hand, as if to offer comfort. She whistled, and through the haze, she heard Morgan translate for Eden: "Sarah … loves Chuck."

The truth broke over her like a tidal wave, omnipresent and overwhelming.

Alone with Eden, in this space that held only the two of them, she couldn't deny it any longer. The little dolphin was right: She was in love with Chuck Bartowski. All of her broken pieces matched up with his, creating something new that was the furthest thing from shattered. With him, she didn't have to be perfect—she could just be herself. He didn't want to change her or control her, to shape her into what he thought she should be. He believed in her, just the way she was.

She didn't know if Chuck loved her back—they'd never said the words. If he ever had, he probably didn't now, since she'd treated him so horribly and then sent him packing. But she owed it to him—to both of them—to apologize, and tell him how she felt … no matter what it cost her.

She blinked, and the world came back into focus. Eden was still in front of her, looking into her eyes, but the strange thread that had bound them together had snapped. The little dolphin bobbed in the water, then dove, swimming toward Echo and Finn.

Digging her cell phone out of her pocket, she stared down at it in desperation. "Morgan," she said, "can you help me find Chuck?"

For an awful moment, she didn't think the AI would answer—but then it did. "Certainly, Sarah."

A second later, her phone beeped, displaying a map with a green dot. She used two fingers to zoom in, her heart pounding. Had he gone back to Cupertino? Was he halfway to another country? Anything seemed possible.

Then the close-up of his location came clear on the screen, and Sarah drew a deep, settling breath.

She knew exactly where Chuck was—and beyond that, why he'd gone there. Now all she needed was the courage to follow.

A/N: Sorry this took us two weeks to post rather than the usual one—Emily had some work deadlines that delayed us! We hope you've enjoyed this chapter. If you did—and you live in the U.S.—the biggest favor you could possibly do for us in return is to go out and vote. Now, more than ever, it's important for us to make our voices heard and to hold our representatives accountable. Sometimes it seems like our voice is just one among many—how can it possibly make a difference? But together, individual votes add up to many—and can sway the course of an election. Your voice matters. If you haven't already, please make a plan to (safely) vote!

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