XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

After having reached the ground, Sophia ran to the gates. It was a long run, but she made it before Juliet got to her bedroom. She was glad it was Juliet that here, not Butler, who was on vacation. Butler would have foreseen this, stopped her or caught her. Juliet, inexperienced, who was a friend and almost trusting, was much easier to slip away from. She had stuffed a note under the door, knowing the young bodyguard would expect a suicide note, and also knowing the bodyguard was a slow reader. She relied on some very simple, unreliable things, and an unpredictable woman.

Climbing the gates was hard, but two minutes of struggling was well worth it. She was home free. Not quite. Juliet was still looking for a body, but soon she'll have figured out Sophie walked away from that fall. But she would be compassionate enough to tell Artemis. To his face. That would just buy her even more time. Being a kind person could be most unhelpful sometimes.

So Sophia ran. How long, how far, she couldn't tell you. All she did was run. In to the forest, near the roads, anywhere as long as it wasn't near Fowl Manor or major roads. They'd think she'd hitchhike. Finally she made it to the residential part of Dublin, and to the apartment near 7:45. She took a longer route so as to confuse any possible followers. She was so happy to be home. It was so obvious Artemis would never suspect.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

She only dropped her stuff off, locked everything up, grabbed essentials, and left for a coffee bar eight blocks away. She was eager to hear the news. In the black wig, heavy eye makeup, and with a beauty mark above her lip Sophia looked like a poet getting ready for a slam. Good.

Sitting at the bar, chowing down on toast and a constant supply of coffee, acting like a normal person, it all felt very nice. Until the news cast blaring in the background brought her to reality.

"And in today's bizarre new, the spook's scoop on residential Dublin. Unexplained sounds haunted the home of two young university women. Neighbors report that the screams and other unusual noises at an apartment in the Northwest side bothered them late last night around 10-12 o'clock. The occurrences are unexplained at this point and police could not get either of the residents were around for questions. We are, however, lucky to have and exclusive interview with one of the witnesses…"

The story went on with one of her neighbors chatting up a reporter. They were outside of the apartment, around 5:00. The old woman spoke about how sweet Sophia and her sister were, that it might be ghost, et cetera. Sophia felt ill. And it wasn't the toast.

If she had been just two hours earlier, choosing to go straight home instead of wander to confuse the possible followers, she might have been on the city news right now. Artemis would have known exactly where she was. She was feeling a little light headed. Oh God, that was close…

Until the next newsreel, then she felt worse.

"In other news, our special celebrity report team-"

"Stalkers" more like it. They had interrupted a date or two before Tara had moved in with Artemis. They did there best to stick to him like flies to honey. It was lucky Butler had managed to catch the reporters and their film, or else Sophia's face would be all over the city by now. And that would be a way to keep a low profile. Not. People would be calling in to give her "name" (thousand of aliases, the news room would be in a flurry trying to find the real one) and the cover would be blown.

"-has found some important bit of news regarding Ireland's own hot billion pound businessman, local legend Artemis Fowl, owner and CEO of Fowl Industries. He's looking for his fiancé! Remember that hot-head red head we told you about a few months ago folks? Well, they're finally planning to tie the knot!"

She had been nicknamed the hot head when she tackled one obnoxious camera guy to Artemis' great amusement for taking a photo of them kissing. It stuck and the media loved it.

How did they know they'd been engaged?

"Reports say she left late last night and hasn't been seen since. Master Fowl is very concerned. We ask that the public keep an eye out for Tara Gavin, who is a fiery red head, pale, with blue eyes, tall, and possibly under a delicates state of mind; recent unknown tragedy has struck her family so please, help us in bringing her home, and praying for her eventual return and safety. We here at the studio might tease, but Ms. Gavin is practically family to us."

"Remember folks," The male news anchor said in all fake concern. "Master Fowl donates millions to city charities each year, and is very active in our communities. Please, give a little back by bringing home his great love, Tara Gavin. Thank you."

Sophia could not move, and she sure as hell couldn't breath. Artemis hadn't put the call for a search out himself, he wanted to keep a low profile about this. But everyone in Dublin would soon be looking for her. Every addict, every bounty hunter, every upper class snob, every scam artist…everyone, anyone who was a little short on cash these days. The anchors made it sound like Fowl was offering a cash reward. A bonus if she was in good condition. She knew well enough to know he would have never done such a thing; it was insulting and completely against his nature. He might have people out looking, his people, his connections, but never dangerous characters like bounty hunters and addicts. He didn't want her dead; at least, not unless he was the one to kill her.

"Are you alright?"

She looked up, scared witless. But it was just a motherly looking waitress, in a crisp white blouse and green polyester apron. The nametag said "Mary".

"Y-yes. I'm quite fine, thank you." Sophia managed, clutching her collarbone, trying to keep her head. "Just a little shell-shocked. I'll take the bill now, please."

"Alright dear." Mary said kindly. As she was ringing up the pretty young lady's tab (she's be even prettier if she were to lay off the eye shadow and mascara!) she asked, casually, " How about that trouble with Master Fowl and his fiancé? Poor dear. They were in here a time or two, you know."

"Really?" Sophia of course knew this, but had forgotten. She'd convinced him to stop by here one morning before he dragged her away to town for some shopping. The food had almost made the entire trip worth it, even if the hours spent trying on Gucci and Parada were torture.

"Aye, that back booth." She nodded to the corner where they had indeed sat.

"What were they like?"

"Ah, so in love. Real sweet on each other. Master Fowl is lucky, normally he's such a stiff board! But this lass seems to have really loosened him up. The entire town was overjoyed when we heard he'd found another beau. He does so much good, just like his Da…they felt he deserved some back."

"What was she like?" It was dangerous, but she had to know. Did they approve of her as well?

"Oh, beautiful! A real sweetheart. Kind, loving, very gentle with Master Fowl. He's a little pushy-"

You can say that again.

"-and she wouldn't take any of it! Very playful sort of girl. Good for him. He's never really been around lower society before, and she was raised in it! Now that they're engaged…!" Mary sighed, thinking a more perfect match was never made. "We all hope she'll come home safe. Poor dear. I wonder what the tragedy was."

Sophia nodded numbly. Now the good-doers would be searching too. Great.

"The only problem is the news description. They didn't give a detailed description of her, and what help is that? Many people have red hair! Many people are pale! More are tall! How are they going to find her with that, most people haven't ever seen her? They've never gotten a picture!"

Sophia shrugged. "I'm sure she'll wander home eventually. If it was really love…" She drifted off, wondering. If it was true love, something she'd never believe in, would she wander back to Fowl Manor? She looked down at her left hand, the middle finger where the ring sat.

Mary nodded sadly. "I'm sure you're right. Silly old me, I'm just worried….everybody loves Master Fowl, he's so kind…"

Sophia gave a sad smile. "She'll be okay. I'm sure in a few months you'll see them back in here, eating eggs and pancakes. Good-bye."

"Bye!" Mary called as Sophia walked out into the cool morning air.

Turning to the regular at the bar, Bill, she commented on the girls beauty, but how young people worn too much makeup these days.

"She reminded me of somebody, Bill." Mary said as she refilled his cup.

"Aye, she looked like the Gavin girl." Bill nodded. He too had been there that morning the young couple came in for a bite.

"Nonsense! She had black hair! The Gavin lady had long, curly auburn. Ginger, Bill. Not midnight."

"Girls change their hair colour and shape, Mar." Bill said mildly. "You can ring up my number now."

As they waited for the calculation, Mary asked curiously, "What made you say that? That she looked like the Gavin lass?"

Bill shrugged. "Her colouring. The shape of her face. The way she held herself. And she was very sad, Mar. I would imagine that Ms. Gavin, wherever she is, is very, very sad."

"Maybe." Mary said softly.

Bill glanced at his watch. "I've got to go. Master Fowl may not be in today, but still. It'd be better that I wasn't late."

"Have a good day, Bill." Mary called. "Don't let the man push you down!"

Bill chuckled and waved. When he got out side, he hailed the closest cab. To his surprise, it stopped. Slipping in, and not believing his fortune, he waved again.

"Fowl Industries, please." He said. "I'm a bit late."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Sasha's body wasn't there. She had not expected it to be. But it didn't matter. She had to leave. She couldn't stay for more than a week, and she couldn't use too much electricity, public transport, or leave the house to often. Sasha had bought food before she went mad. And there were boxes in the basement for such emergencies. Sasha had packed a lot of stuff. It wouldn't take long.

The plan was to ship everything transatlantic to the brownstone in New York. Their aunt had owned that one, but willed it to her sister, and in turn Andreaya passed it on to the girls. It was under their uncle's name, though by certain knowledge, it was known to Sophia that the uncle missing for the past 15 years was living in Bali. She contacted him one day three years back, and was informed that the house was all hers, free of charges.

"It's the least I could do for Eve and Andy." He said referring to his dead wife and sister-in-law. "They'd want it this way."

"Don't tell anyone, Uncle. Let's keep this between us. Da would be mad if he knew. " She hadn't told her uncle that her father was decesed, nor did she mention she had already bought the house being offered. It had been on the market because the previous ower failed to pay his taxes.

She'd have to leave a lot of stuff. Maybe a few boxes marked to certain neighbors? She could burn some too. And what about the cat?

"There is that little girl down the block."

Sophia had dropped Jewel off at the apartment for Sasha shortly after they arranged their paths. The poor creature was at the moment, huddled under the couch, frighten after last night's activities.

"You'll be lonely. And she's always liked America more. Take her with you."

"No, Soph, I'd hate to imagine you alone in that great big house."

"I'll have Juliet." Sophia said, pushing the carrier into Sasha's arms. "You'll be a whole ocean away."

Was she already planning her death? It was rather selfish. Did she know she'd ruin her sister's life? Is that why she hadn't destroyed anything? Then why the packed stuff? Trying to be helpful to her fleeing sister? Did she foresee it all?

Sophia shifted through a pile of dusty paper back novels, tossing the give-aways into a pile behind her. Keep. Give. Keep. Keep. Maybe. Give. Keep. Give. Another Maybe….

She paused. What was she doing? Her sister, best friend, and last living family member was dead, and here she was packing up to leave, throwing her sister's stuff away. It didn't feel right. She should be mourning.

"Let the dead bury their dead". A quote her father often used when speaking of his missions during the cold war. Comrades fell often, and there was little time to grieve them while you tried to save your own neck. "There is little you can do for them now, and they sure as hell won't thank you for it when you meet in the next life." Then he'd take Sophie's little hand in his own big, rough one. "Neither will I, Soph. Don't forget it."

She might not be under sniper fire right now, but she was in danger. Sasha would have to wait. Sophia could give her proper tribute in America.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

For the next three days Sophia packed. All night. All day. Music was on all the time. Shania Twain, Billy Joel, Classical, Opera, symphonic metal, Oldies, Beatles, a huge variety. It kept her mind off of recent events. And certain people.

So far he hadn't come breaking down her door. But it wouldn't have been a major catastrophe if he had. Still, she lived in constant fear that he would walk in at any moment.

In a way, death was welcome with nothing to look foreword to. She wasn't suicidal. Just…lonely. Maybe she would join the army when she got to New York. It'd be something. Better than moping all the time.

There were occasions when she thought of him. She wondered what he would've done with her if she hadn't escaped. It hadn't sounded like he was planning on killing her. Keep her under lock and key, maybe, but not murder. He had sounded possessive. Unwilling to let his pet out anymore. If he hadn't had the nerve to insult her, claim she was responsible for Sasha's untimely end, Sophia might have stayed. Life would be a blank, pointless hole. But she would be safe, protected. Doing some good. Somebody would've been happy.

It was better than some alternatives

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX