Previously on Infamy:

Hey, this is Charlie Gardner. Riley said to call you if I found any new information on Maya," Charlie's voice is hushed and there are muted voices and the clatter of plates in the background.

"Did you?" Farkle pressed, pressing his hand to the bridge of his nose.

"I'm still waiting on the blood test, but I just got her phone records. Her last phone call was to the White House and I would put a lot of money on it being to Friar," Charlie rushes through the words, but that doesn't leave them with any less of an impact.

"Why would Maya be calling Lucas?" Farkle snorted, already seeing the headlines that would attack every news screen if this got out.

"The phone calls start last summer and Riley seemed pretty shaken up when she asked if there was any way that Maya could be pregnant. The easiest dots to connect suggest that maybe there was something going on," Charlie offered and Farkle had to choke back the nausea.

"Maya wouldn't do that," Farkle protested.

"She goes from the spotlight to the background, as Riley is suddenly the new star that everyone wants to look at. Lucas is still reeling from Riley's decision to leave him and date everybody's favorite bad boy Royal. The motive is there."

"We weren't in love with each other, Farkle. You were a mess after what happened with your parents and I was trying to figure out what was wrong with me; why I couldn't feel the way I was supposed to about Zay and, somehow, that translated into what we did. We were both in Rome and I thought fate was trying to tell us something, but we're not some great love story; we're two stupid people who made an adult decision that had adult consequences."

"And I'm trying to take responsibility for that. I don't want to ruin your life, but I want to be there for Savannah, for you, too," Farkle argued; the words feeling like lead in his mouth.

"I have to think about what's best for Savannah. And, right now, you're not it," Maya's eyes are steel and her mouth is set, as he gets another glimpse of her face, "So, I'm asking you to let me have this. I'm asking you to go."

"And if I do get my act together?" Farkle countered; surprised by how much distance could exist between them in such a small space.

"Then, we'll talk."

"So, my father was someone that went on the trip with them?" Savannah glanced between them, a dozen emotions racing across her face.

Riley bit her lip, as she thought through her next words, wishing that Maya had chosen to handle this conversation a long time ago.

"No, he wasn't a student at NYU," Riley offered, staring intently at the knees of her pants.

"So, she didn't love him? He was just a stranger that she picked up off the street?" Savannah pressed, rubbing furiously at the tears that were leaking out of her eyes and down her face, "I was the product of some random hookup? Does he even know that I exist?"

"Does it matter? Your mother loved you, Riley loves you, I love you. We're your family and we always have been," Josh reminded her, letting Riley off the hook.

"My mother killed herself, she literally drank herself to death. If you're my family, then, where were you? You can pretend that we're all in this together for as long as you want, but at the end of the day, you fell off the face of the earth when she died," Savannah pointed an accusing finger at Josh, before turning her attention to Riley, "And you only bothered to show your face after she was gone."

She, slowly, picks it up, feeling something hard through the white paper. She runs a finger under the top and turns it over in her lap, watching as a key settled between her legs, along with a carefully folded note.

She turns to the paper first, the words giving little context into what she had stumbled upon:

M,

Hope you never have a reason to open this, but if something happens, you might need the insurance.

Always,

Z

"Death is not the greatest loss in life. The greatest loss is what dies inside us, while we live."

-Norman Cousins

She'd forgotten how much she hates the silence; hates being trapped with her own thoughts. She's developed coping mechanisms over the years to combat it, but they flutter away under the shock of her latest discovery.

She's not sure when Maya and she had started keeping real secrets from each other. The kind that leave this moment filled with all the things they'd never said; never thought to ask. She'd hated the distance between them enough to try and pretend it wasn't there, but the reminders are everywhere she turns.

I know that Maya still talked to Shawn and that she took Savannah to see Katy every Christmas. I know, I wasn't there for what happened, but, I think, that Maya was trying to let it go, Riles. What's the point of continuing to punish Katy? It won't bring Maya back.

Their bond had been thicker than blood; the kind of bond that spanned years and distance and time. She would have dropped everything she was doing to fly across the world to see her, but had she really known her in the end?

And if she didn't, what kind of right did she have to try and say what Maya would and wouldn't want?

Her eyes give a cursory glance to the papers that arc around her; the key that's pressing an indent into the palm of her hand from how tightly she's clutching it.

There's no happy ending to be found here, only regrets. It's a cautionary tale, if she's ever heard one.

But, she has no room to judge.

The diner is dirty, and she has to resist the urge to pull out a wipe from her purse and cleanse the table and the seat before she slides into it. The vinyl of the seat is rough against her jeans and she hesitates to lean back into the seat for fear of what other surprises this, "Fine Establishment," might be waiting to spring on her.

"I promise you the food's good," Lucas offers; his concern masked behind a tight smile, as he slides into the seat next to her and lets his shoulder brush against hers.

"I trust you," she assures him; looking away so that he can't tell that the sentiment doesn't quite reach her eyes.

He'd guilted her into the trip. Pointing out that she'd worked through the summer and they'd barely seen each other through the first few months of their second year. Missing out on Thanksgiving with her family had seemed like a small price to pay if it made up for all of the plans she'd cancelled on him in the last year.

She hadn't counted on his childhood sweetheart somehow working her way into all of Lucas's family's plans since their plane had landed. She hadn't counted on the subtle hints that she wasn't cut out for Lucas's country lifestyle or the way his grandmother's nose had wrinkled when she'd discovered that Riley's mother was a top New York attorney. Or the comments about what she missed out on by having a, "Working," mother.

"I'm sorry," the words are a sigh and she instinctively reaches out to thread her fingers through his, "I thought this trip was going to go differently."

"How was it supposed to go?" she questioned; attempting to find some way to pull them from their downward spiral.

"Well, we were going to talk the entire plane ride here. Finally, get a chance to get caught up without any interruptions," Lucas started; his head turning to meet her gaze, "And, then, we were going to stop for food on our way to my grandparent's. You were going to lecture me about cholesterol and healthy eating and I was going to point out that we were on vacation and the calories didn't count."

"I could still do that if you want," Riley pointed out; thinking of the time they'd missed on the airplane when Riley had insisted on working on a term paper that was due after the break and the way they'd spent several hours at the airport after the plane had landed, trying to figure out what had happened to her luggage.

They'd driven straight to the ranch without stopping and eaten leftovers out of his grandparent's fridge before collapsing in exhaustion.

"We'd spend the next day doing all of those activities that my grandparents had planned out. We'd go horseback riding and do the family picnic. But, then, I was going to sneak you away for a night of dancing. We'd come back late; laughing over something that probably wasn't even that funny and trying to be quiet, as we made our way to the front door. I'd suggest that we stop and look at the stars and we'd sit on the steps talking until the sun came up."

"Planning the future," she added; as she thought back to the nights they'd had like that back in high school. Except, they'd been staring at city lights, instead of stars and she'd usually fallen asleep against his shoulder by the time morning had come.

"Yeah, talking about our hopes and our dreams and seeing how perfectly they always seemed to line up with each other," Lucas finished, his eyes staring intently at the patterns in the table, "I wanted us to find some way to get back on the same page, to realign our priorities."

"My dreams haven't changed, Lucas."

"But, mine have," he admitted, and she wondered if he could feel the way her heart seemed to pause for a second from the pulse in her wrist, as she waited for the words that would undoubtedly alter everything, "I changed my major at the beginning of the semester."

"What?" Riley wasn't sure how she managed to get the word out when her mind seemed to have gone completely blank.

"I don't enjoy biology; not the way that I should if I'm going to make a career out of it. I spent hours memorizing nerves and parts of the brain and I hated it. I realized that I had this noble idea of what being a vet would be like, but the reality just didn't match up."

"You can't decide to change everything that you've worked for because of one class," Riley argued; feeling her heart pick up speed in her chest, as if to catch up with the beats it had missed.

"You've changed your major how many times?" he pointed out.

"But I've never wanted any job, the way that you wanted to be a vet," she can feel the tears burning in her eyes and she quickly blinks them back, "I didn't have some life-changing experience that told me what I should do with the rest of my life. You did."

"And that one experience means that I can't change my mind? It isn't what I want, anymore, Riley and I don't want to come out of school with a doctorate and all this student debt and hate what I'm doing. It's better that I change course, now."

The silence hurts her ears; as his eyes run over her face, waiting for a response.

A man a couple of tables away is talking on a cell phone and a number is called as someone's order is finished at the counter. And, she can't help thinking that it's strange that something so life changing is happening to her in the middle of a diner in Texas, while life goes on for everyone else.

"You didn't tell me that you were feeling this way," she finally managed, and his eyes darken half a shade.

"I tried, believe me I tried. But, you've been busy with the campaign, your classes, and Maya's pregnancy. What I'm dealing with hasn't exactly been a priority, lately."

"It's always a priority," she disagrees; even as the weight of his words hit home.

She'd expected him to be there; to be the one unchanging thing in a sea of changes. He was supposed to be the thing that she could count on to steady her. She hadn't considered that he might be changing along with the rest of them; that he might be experiencing things and forming a life away from her.

The realization has enough force to leave bruises.

"I love you," his hand squeezes the fingers that she had forgotten were even twined with his, "But I don't think we realized how hard things were going to be after we graduated. I don't want to be the thing that keeps you from pursuing your passions, but I want you to want to come home and meet my family; I want you to miss me when we're not together, to hate every inch of space that comes between us. But, that's not how you feel, right?"

"I do miss you," she disagreed; withdrawing her hand from his, as she grabbed a wad of napkins to wipe at the tears that had escaped down her face.

"But when something comes up; it's me whose plans you cancel. You just expect me to be there waiting for you, when you finally have the time. And I feel stupid, watching you have a life away from me and unable to let you go."

"I still love you," she protested, wondering how she hadn't seen this coming sooner; hadn't recognized how her actions had been making him feel.

"But we're not what we used to be; we're growing and if we keep going on like this we're going to end up unable to even recognize each other."

"I don't want that, either," she choked out; overwhelmed with the feeling of being unable to breathe, "I didn't mean to make you feel this way."

"I know," he ran a hand through the hair at the back of his neck, "That's what makes this so hard."

"So, what do we do?"

"We eat our food," Lucas suggested, "And, then, we head back and get a good night's rest, so we can catch our plane tomorrow."

"That wasn't what I meant," she set the napkins in a wad on the center of the table.

"I don't know, Riley," his voice is a sigh and he springs up when their number is called.

She doesn't often indulge in what if's. There's nothing she can do to change the past, but she can't stop herself from reliving the thousands tiny moments that changed the course of her life forever. She'd never seen them entirely for what they were at the time, but she could later piece them together into the big picture of what she had become.

Once upon a time, she'd believed in destiny. She'd believed in some grand scheme the universe had concocted and was leading each of them down. But, that would mean that there was an inevitable conclusion; that they were meant to be in the places they were, now.

And she finds it hard to imagine that the universe would give Maya such an uncomplete ending; would give Riley a love like what she had with Lucas, only to make her watch everything they had slip through her fingers.

She can't remember dinner; whether they engaged in awkward small talk or ate in silence. She didn't taste the food and everything around her seemed to fade into a distant blur, that couldn't quite hold her attention.

She knows what's coming in a matter of hours; runs through the words Lucas might use in her head, until she can barely control the tears that are burning her eyes. She's not sure how to turn this trip around; how to get passed the conversation they'd just had.

There's no defense for what she's done.

He rolls down the windows on the drive back and lets the air whip through the cab of his cousin's borrowed truck. Her hair swirls around her face and goosebumps form along her arms, but she can't bring herself to turn away from the window or ask him to roll it back up.

The stars go on forever; spanning horizon to horizon, on the straight stretch of highway that looked like a direct route straight to the heavens. It might have been romantic in another context; she might have been clutching Lucas's hand and closing her eyes, as she let herself exist in the moment.

But, she'd left some part of herself back at the diner and she's not sure that she'll ever reclaim it again. She's not sure that Lucas and she are ever going to be able to claim anymore romantic moments.

She's pulled out of her thoughts, when Lucas pulls the truck off onto the side of the road. The wheels churn up a cloud of dirt and several cows watch them from a field behind a stretch of barbwire fence that he narrowly avoids taking out in his hasty maneuver.

"Lucas," the protest flies out of her mouth at the same time her hands brace herself against the seat and the open window; as the car comes to an abrupt stop and he shifts into park.

"We're going to go to sleep as soon as we get back, we'll sit in silence on the plane ride, tomorrow, and, then, we'll probably breakup in the middle of JFK," he predicted; his eyes wild as he turned to face her, "And, when people ask we'll tell them that we just grew apart after high school and that things just didn't work out; like what we've had these last seven years was just some silly childhood fling. But, we'll both know that we were always meant for more than that."

"Are we? You're right, Lucas, we're changing and we're growing in ways neither of us planned on. We can't just stay because it's all we've known. If we're going to keep going, it needs to be because we're right," Riley argued; struggling against the part of her that wanted to accept his words and ignore the valid points he'd brought up an hour ago.

"What if I don't care? Right or wrong, maybe I just want you," His voice took on the dangerous edge that reminded Riley of broken countertops and torn apart rooms, "You told me that you still loved me, and I believe you. So, fight for me, Riley; fight for us."

"You changed your major; for seven years you wanted to be a vet and all it took was one class to change your mind," The words came out, before she could stop them.

"Marry me."

"What?" her head snapped up and she felt herself shrink under the steel in his eyes.

"You want a guarantee that I'm not going to change my mind about you, here it is. Marry me," he repeated, "You want a baby? Let's have a baby. I've never been sure about anything in my life; not who I was, or where I was going, or what I wanted to do with my life. But, I've never doubted wanting you. Nothing is ever going to change that."

The words hung between them and she felt warm; despite being cold only seconds before.

It was supposed to be them; marriage, kids, being adults.

She didn't feel the tears that ran down her cheeks, until the water soaked through her jeans and she absently reached up to find the trails they'd left behind on her cheeks.

She heard the click of Lucas's seatbelt being unfastened and he slid across the worn seat; pulling her into his arms and letting her bury her face into the soft cotton of his shoulder. His hands rubbed her back in soothing strokes and she dug her fingers into his biceps as she searched for a steady grip.

"I'm not ready, yet," she admitted, surprised at how even her voice sounded despite her emotion, "I want to be ready, but I'm not."

"It's okay," Lucas assured her; his hand finding its way into her hair, "I can wait."

"You shouldn't have to wait. You shouldn't have to put up with everything that I've put you through. You deserve better," she protested.

"I didn't deserve you, when I met you; but, somehow, I got you, anyway. As long as I know, I'm still what you want in the end; I can wait."

Unable to bear the memories that flit violently through her mind; she picks herself up off the tile and returns everything back into the box. Wishing that life could be as easy as tucking everything away behind a closed lid and letting things finally rest.

It wouldn't be that way tomorrow; when she placed her best friend in the ground, either.

She pulls at the long chain that hangs around her neck; fingering the best friend ring that had once belonged on Maya's hand, then the wedding and engagement ring that had once belonged on hers, before she pulls it from her neck and adds the key.

They all settle somewhere near her heart, as she replaces the chain around her neck; in a resting place as final as the cold, hard ground.

There aren't any closeups of his face as he lands; the wind blowing through his hair and his jacket (the black, Armani raincoat that cost nearly three-thousand dollars and that they'd had more than one all-out screaming match over) buttoned up over dark suit pants. His shoulders are just as broad as she remembers them being and he still takes the same confidant and measured steps, as he descends the red carpet that had been laid out for him.

She wishes she could see his expression; could read the emotions in his eyes. But, she's limited to the slight hunch of his back and the implications for why he doesn't stop to flash a smile at the cameras. Then again, he's on his way to a funeral.

She wonders if he can feel it, too. The numb ache that seems to burn inside of her chest whenever he's within a reachable distance. The reminder that she might be able to run, but she'll never be able to leave all of her baggage behind.

The knock on the bedroom door startles her from her thoughts and she guiltily turns off the television, "Come in."

Savannah hesitantly slips through the door; her eyes scanning the bed that hadn't been slept in and the duffel bag that Riley had been sorting through on the chair that sat stationed in the corner. She doesn't seem as upset as she was the night before, she mostly just seems subdued and Riley makes a mental note to pull her aside to really talk when things slow down.

"Was that the news?" Savannah looks pale and Riley's thoughts flash back to the hidden pregnancy test in Maya's bathroom, before she pushes the thought into the back corners of her mind.

They both know the truth of what Riley was doing. It's Maya's eyes looking back at her; reminding her that she was the one who had left him, but still couldn't bring herself to let him go. That she'd rather punish herself and drown in the pain, then give up the reminder that once their entire future had been stretched out across the mountainside; rising with the sun.

"It's supposed to rain," Riley offered, blinking in an attempt to clear away the memories.

"Then, you should borrow one of Mom's coats."

Josh has the news pulled up on his laptop when she enters the kitchen and he immediately minimizes the screen; leaving her to wonder what they're saying that she's managed to miss out on.

She doesn't miss the dark shadows under his eyes or the way his hair is still standing on end from a night of sleeping on the couch.

"There are eggs on the stove," he offers, and she glances into the pan that he'd indicated.

She can still feel the heat radiating from the burner and a third of a pan of yellow scrambled eggs are settled up against the edges.

"Did you make these?" Riley questioned; surprised to find that they looked edible. Josh's idea of cooking had always been ordering takeout.

"Nope," he popped the, "P," his head tilting in the direction of the hallway.

"She didn't get that from Maya," Riley offered; grabbing a fork out of a drawer and taking a bite directly out of the pan.

"No, she didn't," a smile pulled at Josh's face that fell as he glanced back down the hallway to ensure Savannah wasn't listening, "I got a call from Farkle this morning and if he's calling me then you know that the world must be ending."

"We had a disagreement," Riley admitted; refusing to look up from the stove.

"Well, I think you'd better meet with him. He got a call from the officer assigned to Maya's case and said you would want to know," Josh phrased the words like a question and Riley thought of all the things she still hadn't bothered to pass on.

The key suddenly felt like it was choking her.

"I'll call him back," Riley sighed.

"You said we're in this together, you want to tell me what's going on?" Josh suggested, and Riley felt her lungs constrict from inside of her chest.

"I found a pregnancy test in Maya's bathroom," Riley spit the words out all at once; wondering if it was better to pull the Band-Aid straight off or if she should have softened the blow.

"You think she was pregnant?" Josh questioned; the color visibly draining from his face.

"I don't know, but that's what the call would have been about," Riley admitted, "Did she say anything to you?"

"No, she didn't say anything," his voice came out monotone, "But why would she if it wasn't mine?"

"Are you sure?" Riley pressed; unable to think of anyone else that Maya would have been seeing in the last few months.

"I was with her in Vegas last week. If she was pregnant with my child, she would have said something," Josh grabbed his jacket from the back of the barstool chair and headed for the door.

"Where are you going?" Riley questioned; wondering if telling him was a mistake.

"Out," he punched the button of the elevator and Riley watched as he disappeared behind the doors.

The door is only open a sliver, but Riley can still make out Maya through the reflection in the bathroom mirror. Her shirt is pulled up just above her stomach with one hand and the other is tracing the skin that's been pulled tight as it expands.

The red lines are faint along the underside of her stomach; though they're bright against the paleness of Maya's skin. And Riley's hand unconsciously goes to her own flat expanse of abdomen; as she tries to imagine what it must be like to look in the mirror and see such changes in a body you've barely begun to live in, yet.

There's a frown on Maya's face and Riley thinks of the baggy clothes that Maya had taken to wearing. She'd originally believed it was because Maya didn't want to answer uncomfortable questions about her pregnancy, but she wonders if there's more to it, now.

Maya had never been uncomfortable in her own skin; never sat in front of the mirror in a one-piece swimsuit trying to decide if she should wear a shirt over it because it still doesn't cover enough. Maya had always been in two-pieces; confidentially sunbathing at the edge of the pool and enjoying the eyes that tended to linger on her a second too long.

Eventually, someone would throw her in. Most of the time, Zay, though Lucas had done it occasionally, too. It was a part of their never-ending game to push each other. Riley was always first in the water; an oversized shirt floating around her waist and the hope that no one would notice her too closely.

She has a feeling that Maya won't be wearing two-pieces for a while.

She retreats down the hallway, slowly, hoping that the floor won't creak and give her away. She doesn't need Maya to know that she was intruding on a private moment and she's not sure that she has the right words of comfort for someone who is uncomfortable with their own appearance; when she's, yet, to master her own insecurities.

"Riley?" Maya's voice rings out through the apartment and Riley cringes at being noticed.

"Yeah, it's me," Riley calls back; pausing next to her suitcase that's still sitting by the front door.

"How did your trip go?" Maya's voice was quieter this time, as she entered the main living area wearing a shirt that hung nearly to her knees and left her figure completely undistinguishable.

"Not great," Riley admitted; sinking down on the arm rest of the couch, "Lucas pointed out that I've been ignoring him lately and what a mess everything between us has become. And, then, he asked me to marry him."

"Not a great lead," Maya snorted; brushing passed the brunette to sink down on the couch and raising her feet onto the beaten-up coffee table that was positioned in front of it, "So, what did you say?"

"I told him that I wasn't ready, and he told me that he was willing to wait," Riley sighed; tracing invisible lines across her knees, "He changed his major."

"To what?" Maya questioned; her eyes widening in genuine surprise.

"Economics," Riley returned, "It's not something that he would have even thought twice about a year ago."

"A lot can change in a year. I'm living proof of that," Maya pointed out; her hands moving to her stomach, "But if he's still asking you to marry him, I'd say he hasn't changed all that much."

"Maybe not, yet, but people don't change drastically overnight. It's a process and I've been so stupid about how I've prioritized him in my life," Riley admitted, "I just expected him to always be there exactly the same as he always has been."

"It's not too late to make a change," Maya reminded her, "But I think you're worrying too much. You've had plenty of ups and downs with Huckleberry and the two of you always end up choosing each other in the end. There's nothing to suggest that this time is going to be any different."

"It feels different," Riley offered.

"Just give it some time and don't obsess, okay?" Maya suggested, squeezing Riley's shoulder as she got up from the couch.

The sky is overcast; filled with so many varying shades of gray clouds that she feels like she's in an old black and white movie. Everything seems dull under the dimmed haze of the sun's filter and a chill goes straight through her clothes and hugs her skin.

"Are you sure about this?" Tessa questioned; eyeing the building in front of them with skepticism.

"Yes," Riley decided; opening the car door and stepping down onto the sidewalk.

Tessa darted in front of her and through the main doors; her eyes scanning over the ancient stairs that stretch up towards flickering bulbs hanging shade-less from the ceiling. The lobby contained rows of mail slots and thin red carpet that revealed cement in places where it had worn away altogether.

"Didn't this guy make the list of wealthiest teens in the world?" Tessa questioned; as Riley met her at the bottom of the stairs.

"That was a long time ago," Riley pointed out; letting Tessa take the stairs first.

Windows caked in grime let in a yellowish light that lights their first set of steps and they, finally, reach Farkle's floor; which is covered in the same wearing carpet as the lobby. A dead potted plant sits outside the door she knows to be his and she hesitates a second before letting her knuckles rap against the unvarnished wood.

"I thought you were going to call," Farkle offered; not bothering with a greeting as he yanked the door open. His hair looked like it hadn't been brushed and was sticking up in odd directions; though he was dressed in different clothes from what he had worn the day before. She could see the glitter of glass scattered across the floor of his apartment in the background and she couldn't help wondering exactly what he'd been up to the night before.

"You going to invite me in?" she questioned; folding her arms tightly across her chest as she played to a confidence she wasn't sure she even had.

"I think we'd better go out," Farkle decided; grabbing a hoodie from a hook by the door and stepping out into the hallway.

He took the steps with the same grace he'd always had; looking unconcerned with just how out of place Riley looked in comparison to the building he called home. Her car was still running at the edge of the sidewalk and Tessa was barely a step behind her, but Farkle ignored both; leading her down the street and around a corner.

"You want to tell me what's going on?" Riley questioned; managing to keep step with the genius, despite the urgency he moved with.

"I left my apartment this morning and generally when one's dealing in paranoia and conspiracy theories; it's best not to trust that someone didn't visit your residence while you were out," Farkle replied; pulling her through the doors of a bookstore and waving a greeting to the bored teenager sitting behind the counter, as he darted behind a row of shelves.

Tessa shot Riley a look that spoke volumes, but gave them the illusion of privacy; as she stepped to the end of aisle, where she had a clear view of the front door.

"You think someone bugged your apartment?" Riley clarified; her voice dropping to a whisper.

"I think this entire thing is crazy, but when Detective Charlie Gardner is making unsanctioned phone calls from diners, Vice-President Friar is taking the time out of his busy schedule to stop you on the street and ask about his ex-wife, and Maya's dead; maybe crazy is all you have left."

"Farkle," Riley sighed; wondering if he'd slept at all the night before.

"They'll have the results of the blood test tomorrow, but they sent over her phone records from the last six months. She called the White House almost weekly; usually after she finished talking to you," Farkle didn't pause for air, as the words flowed out of his mouth, "And, then she'd call Zay and the two would talk for anywhere between forty minutes to over an hour."

"And what exactly is this supposed to mean?" Riley questioned; bracing herself on the edge of one of the bookshelves.

"I called Zay's magazine and they said he hasn't been into the office since the day before Maya died, which explains why you're not being chased down in the streets. Have you ever known Zay to let a story about you or Maya go?"

"You think he's dead, too?" Riley closed her eyes; fighting against a wave of memories that wanted to break through, "Or involved in Maya's death, somehow?"

"I don't know. I just think this entire situation is far more complicated then any of us thought and I don't think it would be in your best interest to linger in the country after Maya's funeral. I think you'd better go home to your castle; pull up your drawbridge and stay away from the windows."

"You're really scared?" Riley observed; wondering what had happened to the man who had been running this entire situation since she'd found out Maya had died only a few days ago.

"I think whatever is going on is far bigger than all of us and I'm just an Ethics professor. I'm not a princess or a politician or a model. I don't have an army of security to protect me and if I disappear it could be weeks before anyone notices. So, yes, I'm scared, and I think it would be in your best interest to be scared, too."

The lines are long, mostly filled with tourists; who are speaking a number of languages that he can barely pick out against the background noise. Overhead, a speaker is announcing that they shouldn't be leaving their luggage unattended and he can't help wondering if anyone has noticed that he's the only one in line to have nothing with him, but his passport, his wallet and the clothes on his back.

The line moves forward, again, and he feels the passport start to shake in his hand; as the enormity of what he is about to do fully settles on his shoulders. He'd pledged himself to his country once; been raised on patriotism and the idea that death for ones' homeland was of the noblest ways to die.

What he's about to do will go down as treason and he can feel his ancestors turning over in their graves.

He steps up to the window; handing the blue passport to the man with the stamp and squeezing his hands into fists, as he struggles to keep his shaking under control.

"Please state your purpose for entering Froacia," he offered; barely checking that the passport picture matched up to the person using it.

"I'm seeking asylum," Zay offered and the man finally looked up; gesturing to one of the security men that were just on the periphery of Zay's vision, "I have information about a plot against the royal family."

So, yes, I'm still alive. I've been working two jobs on top of going to school this semester, which has made my life crazy (And me a little crazy, too). On top of that, I had an on-and-off seven year relationship come to a pretty conclusive end, rethought all of my life choices, and hated everything that I've written for the last three months. Which hasn't helped with updating any of my stories. So, I'm sorry for the delay and a huge thank you to everyone whose encouraged me to update in the last few months because there was definitely a part of me that was ready to just be done. I'm hoping that I can cut back to one job in the New Year, which will hopefully give me some much needed downtime that isn't spent sleeping or working on school.

But, in the meantime, I have the start of first draft chapters for Heat Stroke and Laws of Timing in the works and I've finally decided that it's time to release this chapter, although I'm not entirely happy with it.

Thanks for reading and I would love it if you would leave me a review! They definitely play a huge role in keeping me motivated to write!