"'I never used to look in the mirror/ in case of what I might see/ but now I think I look like a killer/ Cos for your heart/ I found the keys, keys. / Now you know I can crack the lock/ it's no use shaking at the knees/ you don't even have to knock/ cos for your heart…/ I found the keys, keys…' "

She was alone. It was no longer out-of-ordinary for her; in fact, she was getting used to it. Her voice echoed strangely in the small hallway. She had not visited the basement for a few days, and as of that day, she never would.

Locke had allowed Ben to live in one of the houses.

Lisa was still smarting from her last confrontation with him, and as far as she was concerned, she never wanted to speak with him again. A frown had creased her face, and she threw the baseball angrily at the wall. It bounced, thudding against the floor and came back to her hand with a stinging slap.

How could she have been so stupid? How could she have possibly thought he'd be willing to speak with her? Of course Ben knew who she was; he knew everything. It had probably just taken him longer to figure her out. Now she knew she wasn't any different from all the rest; Ben could fool her too, make her feel like an idiot for who she was.

"Dad would be so mad at me," Lisa muttered bitterly, gripping the baseball tight in her fist.

She threw it again, and it bounced. She caught it and repeated the motion. It was strangely cathartic in a way, hearing the ball thudding against the floor and the wall. A wry smile crossed her face.

"I must be in the cooler," she mused, "Doomed to play the role of Hilts, aren't I?"

Lisa sighed, realizing how much she missed baseball. She faintly remembered Jack mumbling about how the Red Sox had won World Series. She wondered if it was true. With another wistful sigh, she sprung the ball off her arm and caught it, happy that she'd found it stuck in that ratty glove after she and Hurley went looking for something in the shed. It was hers now.

To her surprise, the doorbell rang. Lisa grunted in annoyance, heaving herself off the floor, absently tossing the ball from palm to palm. She shuffled to the door and opened it. Her eyes widened.

"Hi…John. What're you doing here?"

Locke smiled at her, revealing the crow's feet at the corners of his eyes. The recent events had left him looking older than he was; there were fading wounds across his arms and his cheek, and a scraggly beard had started growing across his face.

"I came to give you something," he informed her, "Ben wanted you to have this."

Lisa scowled. "What is it?"

Locke handed her a single hard-cover book. It was a copy of The Catcher in the Rye, by J.D. Salinger. Her favorite book. Lisa ran her fingers over the fading letters of the title.

"Why did he ask-?"

"I don't know," Locke sighed, shrugging. He leaned against the doorframe as he spoke. "He told me to tell you to consider it his apology."

Lisa dropped her gaze back down to the book, which was yellowed with age worn in places. The image of the merry-go-round on the cover was fading. It looked as if it had been read several times.

"If you don't mind, Lisa, I'm going to head on back. I don't like to leave him alone too long."

She nodded, snapping out of a daze. "Right. Thanks, John…"

Locke gave her another smile, walking down the porch steps. He turned halfway, as if remembering something.

"Tomorrow night, I'm having a meeting. We're all going to clear a few things up- please come if you'd like."

"Okay. Sure." Lisa forced a smile, watching as he strolled away across the yard.

When he had gone, she shut the door, looking down at the book curiously. She could smell the dusty pages as she sat down on the living room floor, bathed in a pool of sunlight. She opened the book, hearing the binding crinkle as she did so.

Her father's handwriting was on the first page.

A sharp gasp escaped her, and she almost dropped it in surprise. She felt scared for some reason; what was his handwriting doing in one of Ben's books? For a moment, she was comforted by the familiar lines, the way the 'y's and 'g's had long tails; the bubble-like shape to the capital letters. Gripping the book tighter in her hands, she took in a breath and read what he'd written.

"'Ben- one of my faves, as you know. You've heard me talk enough about it, so here it is- my gift to you. I'm doing you a favor giving you this. Hopefully you'll do the same for me someday. Enjoy it, I dare you. – Bill.'"

Lisa could only stare at the words in disbelief. There seemed to be no explanations for it…her father had given Ben this book.

"How?"

Her hands were trembling. The knowledge spun in her head, and she felt as if the world had darkened around her. She couldn't understand how this was possible. Something slipped out of the book and fell lightly to the ground, sunlight flashing across it briefly.

A picture.

She took it in her fingers, desperately trying to make sense of the situation. Another gasp came to her, only it caught in her throat and came out in a strangled sob.

"Oh my God…"

It was an old picture of her father, and he stood smiling on a pier. Ben was standing beside him. They were both caught in the middle of a laugh, looking at someone out of frame. Lisa's father had slung his arm across Ben's shoulders in a brotherly gesture, as if about to muss up his hair. Ben was leaning to the left slightly, his hands in his pockets. Both he and her father were wearing strange khaki jumpsuits, each marked with a distinctly recognizable symbol.

"The DHARMA Initiative?" Lisa breathed, "That's not…that's… how?!"

She stared at the picture intently, her eyes scanning it hungrily for clues. How could this be? What was he doing standing on that pier next to Benjamin Linus, of all people?

In spite of all that, in spite of how confused she was, Lisa couldn't help laughing. Her father looked so young and happy, his dark hair slightly longer than she was used to. She studied his expression, and could almost hear him laughing. He'd put his arm around her in the same way in so many pictures; he could always make someone laugh, no matter what. She wondered what they were smiling at. They seemed almost like a pair of brothers.

Lisa was startled to find a tear had dropped on to the picture, sparkling in the sun. She rubbed her eyes and her vision blurred. Frustrated with herself, she gently wiped away the droplet. She gazed at the picture for a long time, trying to memorize the expression and the fading colors; trying to listen for her father's laughter.

Part of her couldn't believe he was a member of the DHARMA Initiative, that he'd kept it a secret from her all her life. But she knew there had to have been a damn good reason for it.

Absently, Lisa flipped the picture over, only to notice something was written on the back. It was her father's writing once again.

'So you don't forget, Benjamin.'

Lisa laughed gently, placing her palms against her cheeks. She closed her eyes and a single tear escaped.

"I miss you, Daddy…"

*******

She sat comfortably on the couch, sipping her bottle of water. Her foot was tapping the floor absently and she looked around the room, not feeling very cheerful in spite of the canary-yellow walls.

"So…these people will really kill us?"

Lisa nodded. "Looks like it, unless we find a way to keep him out of their hands."

She jerked her head across the room as she spoke. Karl and Alex sat in front of her on an ottoman, the former wringing his hands. The French woman Rousseau stood a good distance away, keeping silent watch of them.

"You seem pretty worried about it," he stammered sarcastically.

Alex frowned at her boyfriend's tone. Lisa sighed.

"I am worried- I'm scared beyond all reason by what we learned tonight. But what can I do about it?"

"Maybe we can negotiate," Karl suggested, "Maybe we don't have to give them Mr. Linus."

Lisa wrinkled her nose at the idea; Alex bit her lower lip.

"…Let's not talk about this now," Lisa said, seeing her friend's troubled expression, "Locke will figure something out. We'll be safe."

Karl sighed, searching for Alex's hand and squeezing it.

"I hope so."

Lisa leaned back against the couch, watching as the others talked amongst themselves. She smirked after watching Locke escort Miles, the man from the freighter, back out to the boat house, where he was being held until further notice. Alex's voice caught her attention.

"Where did you get that?"

Lisa looked down at the copy of The Catcher in the Rye, held protectively in the crook of her arm.

"Oh, John gave it to me. I asked if he had it; it's one of my favorites."

Alex nodded, smiling. "Same here. Holden is such a relatable character…which is kind of strange, really."

"Why's that?" Lisa asked.

Alex shrugged. "Well, my dad likes the book, too. I guess…if there's one thing we still agree on, it's that The Catcher in the Rye is a good book."

She fell into silence, leaning against Karl absently. Lisa smiled.

"Cool. Finally someone my age who appreciates it. We read it in school and everyone whined about it," Lisa shook her head, "It was terrible- they were all idiots. Plus they made fun of me for understanding."

Alex grinned. "'All morons hate it when you call them a moron,' Right?"

"Right," Lisa laughed.

Claire came over with Aaron in tow at that moment, raising her eyebrows.

"That was interesting, huh?"

"At least there're no more secrets," Lisa sighed, rising to her feet.

"At least," Claire replied, bouncing the baby gently in her arms.

Alex and Karl rose to their feet as well, playing around with the baby. Aaron cooed and grabbed for the former, who giggled. They talked with each other for a few minutes before bidding Alex and Karl good night.

"Have a swell evening 'Holden'," Alex told Lisa with a grin.

She laughed. "You too."

They headed for the door, Rousseau following close behind. Claire caught Lisa's attention.

"What do you think about all this?" she asked in a whisper.

Lisa watched as Alex spoke with her father about something.

"You mean about Ben?"

"Yeah. Do you think we should head back to the beach any time soon?"

Lisa shook her head. "No…I think we're okay here. Ben might be up and about, but Locke's keeping a good watch over him. We'll be fine."

Claire sighed, adjusting to the weight of the now sleeping Aaron.

"Alright. I'll take your word for it. I better take him back home…see you there," she said.

"I'll be right behind you," Lisa replied.

Claire left the house just ahead of Alex, Karl and Rousseau. The former looked at her a moment, waving. Lisa smiled and returned the gesture. The small group stepped out the front door and left the house. Lisa soon found herself alone once again with Ben. His eyes turned slowly to meet hers after the door closed with a soft snap.

"I take it John gave you the book," he said.

Lisa held it up so he could see it, the warm lamplight shining dully across the cover.

"We need to talk, Benjamin."

He smirked. "Of course."

Lisa took her seat back on the couch, watching as he sat down across from her, lacing his fingers together.

"I assume you have a lot of questions."

Lisa scowled. "Why was my father in the DHARMA Initiative? What was he doing here?"

Ben pursed his lips; all formality aside for certain. She waited expectantly for an answer. He sighed.

"William came in on the sub when he was twelve-years-old. He was sent here by his parents after they were told it was a special school for bright children. Your mother was brought here as well, though a few years later."

Lisa narrowed her eyes. Ben only blinked.

"So he came here only because he had to?"

Ben nodded. "I suppose so. He later worked at the Flame as a communications expert…it's how he made all those ties with the outside world. "

Lisa massaged her temples, trying to fight both frustration and anger. Ben waited patiently for her next question. She found it maddening that he knew all the answers.

"…I don't believe this…"

"Lisa, what happened to your father?" Ben asked her, brow furrowed in curiosity.

She looked up at him briefly through her fingers, letting out a humorless laugh.

"You're asking me?" I thought you would know-"

"What did they tell you happened?" he interrupted.

Lisa sighed, letting her hands drop to her sides. She avoided Ben's eyes, saying,

"Dad was in a horrible car accident. It happened while I was with my friends…he'd just dropped me off and…" she took a moment, shaking her head. "They told me he lost control on the highway and slammed into a guardrail. He was killed on impact…"

She trailed off, staring at her sneakers. Ben nodded gently, as if he understood the difficulty she'd been through. Lisa scowled.

"If you know something, Ben," she said, still focused on her shoes, "Tell me."

He pretended there was an interesting object to look at outside the window, watching the tree branches sway against the panes.

"Well, it's a pretty convincing cover story, isn't it?"

Lisa finally tore her gaze from the floor to look at him.

"Cover story?" she whispered.

Ben spoke with the same business-like tone he had when recited what he knew about her. Lisa felt a spike of anger at the voice.

"Your father was investigating things he shouldn't have; he'd found out about Charles Widmore, and what he was planning. Since they were both looking for the island, William discovered what Widmore wanted it for- and threatened to expose the whole story."

Lisa was confused, now. "Charles Widmore? You mean the same man who wants to kill you? The man who sent that freighter here?"

Ben nodded gravely. "He had your father killed, Lisa."

"What?" she gasped softly.

"Yes. William was getting too close to the truth, to exposing Widmore for who he really is. Your father was trying to protect those of us still on the island."

Lisa buried her face in her hands, shaking her head. It felt like as though the walls were closing in around her, as if all of this knowledge was suffocating her. She felt dizzy.

"Why?" she whimpered, "Why didn't he tell me?"

Ben regarded her seemingly with no emotion, watching as she rocked back and forth slightly, clutching the book close to her.

"You're still alive, aren't you?" he said quietly.

Lisa sniffed, pushing the hair back from her eyes. She still held her head in one hand, palm against her forehead.

"But…why? What are you telling me this for?"

She turned her eyes to look up at him, almost pleadingly. Ben hesitated, then replied.

"Because I'd rather not have you die, Lisa. Since Widmore had William killed, it wouldn't be right if he killed you, too."

Lisa sighed, closing her eyes. She regarded him silently for a moment, trying to imagine him as the man she'd seen in the photo, laughing with her father. It was almost like that Ben didn't even exist…

"You should probably get going," he told her, standing up, "John will be back soon to kick you out."

Lisa rose slowly to her feet, walking for the door. Ben opened it for her, and the sounds of crickets came over them. A small breeze floated in through the open door. She turned to face him before leaving.

"…Thank-you for telling me the truth, Ben…"

He nodded slightly, giving her a small smile.

"You're welcome."

Lisa weakly returned the gesture, holding the book close to her chest, arms folded across it. She stepped lightly down the front porch steps and faded into the darkness.