A/N: I feel like the story is just starting to get really good so stay tuned. I hope you're all enjoying it as much as I've enjoyed writing it. I'd love a review just to let me know how you think I'm doing but just knowing that people are checking the story out is enough. Thank you!

Elizabeth watched as Shawn drove away. She tightly held onto the dress and shoes that she had gotten from the thrift shop. She couldn't wait to show Graceila the dress. She knew her friend didn't approve of what was going on but she also knew Graceila would be upset if Elizabeth didn't at least make an attempt to show off her purchase.

Elizabeth started up the front stairs of the apartment building when she heard someone calling her name. She turned, half-way up the stairs already, to find Graceila getting out of Mike's beat-up Honda Civic. Elizabeth smiled a little and waved to her friend.

"I want to show you what I got," Elizabeth excitedly said as Graceila took the steps two at a time to catch up.

Graceila smiled slightly and nodded. "I'd like that."

Elizabeth stared at her friend, trying to get into Graceila's head. She was surprised to find that she couldn't read Graceila's thoughts. It was the first time she had experienced something like that. Elizabeth just smiled and nodded in return. She wanted to know what was behind Graceila's turn around but decided that it would be better to leave things as they were.

"Let's get inside and order take-out," Elizabeth finally said. "I'll try on the dress and shoes while we wait for the food."

Graceila smile grew with each word Elizabeth said. "Mexican would be nice," she replied. "Unless you'd prefer something else."

Elizabeth shook her head with a small smile. "No, Mexican sounds good."

"We have a lot to talk about," Graceila added as they walked up to front stairs together. "A lot."

Graceila was going through Elizabeth's jewelry box with her friend without saying a word. She had listened to everything Elizabeth had to say about Shawn and shopping and how excited she was about going to this event while they had waited for the food to arrive. They had quietly ate dinner, sharing each other's food and drinking two glasses of white wine each.

She watched Elizabeth smile brightly as she tried on every piece of jewelry in her medium sized oak box. Graceila offered an opinion every now and then, pointing out which pieces looked best with the dress Elizabeth was wearing. Graceila had never seen her friend look so happy before. It broke her heart.

"I have a confession to make," Graceila finally said.

Elizabeth set aside a pair of silver hoop earrings and a plain silver necklace. She knew she would need to know where they were for Friday. She didn't want to have to dig around to find them when it was time to get ready. She looked up at Graceila, a knowing look in her eyes. Elizabeth nodded but didn't say a word.

Graceila was speechless for a moment. She hadn't expected to see the look in Elizabeth's blue eyes that she was now seeing. "When did you know?"

Elizabeth lightly shrugged her shoulders. "I can't say that I know what your confession is," she honestly replied. "I would never pry that way with you but I could tell something was wrong from the moment you pulled up in Mike's car. I could feel it. So what's up?"

Graceila softly sighed. "I went to the 4400 Center today," she admitted. "While you were out with Shawn." She paused, not sure of how to continue. She bit her lip for a moment as she thought it over. "I kind of barged in to talk to Jordan Collier."

"And?"

"And he wasn't what I expected."

It was Elizabeth's turn to look surprised. "What does that mean?"

Graceila shrugged, non-committal. "I know how it sounds. He was ... he was nice to me. Very nice," she said, surprised by the words herself. "He even asked me to consider coming to the Center with you ... if you join them there."

Elizabeth sighed but didn't say anything right way. She hadn't wanted to get Graceila as involved as she was becoming. She changed out of her dress and hung it up in her closet. Pulling on a pair of ragged, paint speckled navy blue sweat pants and a black fitted tank top, she tried to figure out how she was going to respond.

"And what did you tell him?" Elizabeth finally asked.

Graceila closed her dark eyes and avoided Elizabeth's gaze. She shook her head. "I didn't say anything really," she replied. "I think I said I'd think about it, that I'd discuss it with you."

"If I decide to join the Center," Elizabeth said, "I don't want you to go with me."

Graceila was shocked and more than a little upset. "What do you mean?"

Elizabeth took a deep breath. She hated the way Graceila was feeling right now and she hated even more that she was the cause of her best friend's emotions. "I love you with all of my heart," she calmly explained. "I don't want you to throw your life away just to keep an eye on me. I'm a big girl now. I can take care of myself."

"That's not why I'd go. I know you can ..."

"Gracie," Elizabeth said reproachfully, "don't lie to me. I know you too well."

Graceila shook her head. "I wouldn't be throwing my life away."

"You would and you know it or you wouldn't be asking me not to go."

"I never asked you not ..."

"You never had to say the words to ask me."

Graceila threw up her hands in defeat. "You think you're so smart because you can feel what other people are feeling and see what they're thinking, don't you?" she shouted. Her frustration and anger had been boiling up and now she exploded. "But you know what? You're not, Lizzie. It doesn't make you any better than the rest of us. If anything, it makes you ... it makes you something worse."

Elizabeth started after Graceila as her friend stormed out of the bedroom. She stopped as she watched Graceila snatch her set of keys from the table and angrily slam the door behind herself. Elizabeth drew in a sharp, deep breath, feeling the tears start to flow. The words stung like a slap to her face. She had never seen Graceila get so angry before, had never heard her friend say things so hurtful. And the worst part of it was that Elizabeth knew that Graceila had meant every word of it.

Without even thinking about what she was doing, Elizabeth grabbed her cordless phone and dialed a phone number that was becoming increasingly familiar. What she wanted now more than anything else was to hear a kind, familiar voice. What she wanted now more than anything else was to talk to someone who would understand what she was going through. As the phone rang, Elizabeth tried to compose herself, but as soon as the person on the other end of the line said hello, Elizabeth lost all composure and began to sob.