Epilogue: Some Months Later

The room was dark. Her footsteps echoed in the darkness, filling the space around her, and sending chills down her spine as she heard her own footsteps echo behind her back.

Sinead Starling paced in her cell. She was going to be released tomorrow, and the excitment, horror, and general terrifyingness of it all overwhelmed her. As hard she tried, she was not going to sleep on her last night stuck in the cell.

Her fingers instinctively found each other, and they grasped, forming a small boat, which she held close to her, cradling her pregnant stomach.

The babe within was a secret. No one knew about it. No one would ever know, until she came out.

Then they would see her enlarged stomach. Then they would see her swollen ankles, her puffy eyes, and they would know.

They would ask questions, begging for answers which they would receive. The answer would be brisk, and chilly. Sinead did not care to spill the secrets of that night, so long ago.

But she would have to. The father would not care for her child.

And she knew she loved her unborn baby. She knew she cared for it more than she had ever cared for another human being.

She knew she would want the best for it.

And that's why she would tell her family. That's why she would spill the secrets of that dark night, which were best covered up with the sands of time.

But they would not remain buried, as was best. It was only when the authorities had found out she was pregnant that she had permission to skip half of her sentence.

She had co-operated, if not for herself, then for her unborn child.

But Sinead Starling did not know the half of it.

She did not know that the reason she was truly sent to jail.

Blackmail, murder, betrayal. Sinead was used to those cold words. She was used to receiving nothing but cold glances, and artic smiles.

So when a drunk Jake had come to an equally drunk Sinead, she had accepted. While they were writhing in pleasure, Sammy had come upon them. He had "talked" to Jake about it the next day, unbeknownst to a soon-to-be pregnant Sinead.

She did not know that she had started the seeds of hate that were planted between Sammy and Jake. But she did know that had stopped it, and finished it before it grew to an ugly plant of hate war.

And she did not want her unborn child to know about her mistake.

That was why she would fall on her knees, beg, and plead. She would cry, letting her tears fall freely, until someone gave in and helped her.

She was willing to accept the consequences of the deadly game she had played.

And she knew the others would have to accept too.

Sinead stood in front of her house. Its empty windows stared out at her like her own dull eyes. Placing a hand on her stomach, she walked up the drive.

Her footsteps were hollow on the concrete. The grasses were brown. The flowers - her lilies, her violets, her tulips, - which she had once been so proud of were dead. They lay in a dry heap on scorched mulch.

Sinead stepped forward slowly, trying to make up her mind if she even wanted to see what the inside of her house looked like.

Finally convincing herself, she dug in her pocket and pulled out a key. Opening the door, she stepped into her house for the first time in a long while.

Dust motes floated in the light streaming in through the open door. Her couch sagged wearily, tired of the neglect it had faced.

The carpet was littered with something Sinead didn't nessecarily want to identify. A small mouse ran across the floor, its tiny legs outstretched in panicked flight.

The windows were filthy. Her bookshelves were full of dust. Walking across the dirty carpet, Sinead sneaked a peek into the kitchen.

It was worse - much worse - then she'd expected. Dirty dishes lay molded on the counter, in the exact same spot she'd left them when she'd gone to Jonah's party.

She hadn't known she would only be allowed to come back for a few minutes - to grab a few clothes and other nessecities.

She hadn't known her life would be tilted upside down.

Sighing, she looked at the mess she would have to clean.

Walking heavily towards the closet where she kept her cleaning articles, she heard a small knock on her front door. She frowned. Who would bother to call on her this early?

Reaching for a broom, she walked towards the door and opened it.

Amy stood on the front porch, a wrapped present in her hand. She looked quite nervous, and Sinead stood awkwardly in the doorway, unable to think of anything to see.

Amy's eyes wandered down, and stopped at Sinead's protruding stomach. Amy looked up, hesitant. Motioning towards Sinead's stomach, she asked, "Is that why they let you out early?"

Sinead nodded.

"Who's the fath-. . . I mean, when's he due?"

Sinead smiled, but it wasn't a happy smile. It didn't leave her lips. "Jake's the father. I don't know when exactly. Soon." She paused, and then broke down crying. "I need help. I'm scared, and I know I don't deserve anyone's help."

Amy cut her off. "Sinead. You're family. Jake tricked you. Its not your fault, and we all love you, and I'll be willing to help you." She peeked past Sinead into the house. "And I'll start by helping by helping you clean up your house."

Dropping the broom, Sinead pulled Amy into a hug.

Then she let go. "What happened to Jake?"

Amy smiled grimly. "He's in jail. For another ten years."

"Oh." Her response was vague. Biting her lip, she burst out, "You know what? I think he deserved it."

Amy frowned. "I think so too. And I got the vibe that he was really sorry for what he'd done."

Sinead clenched her teeth. "Maybe the ugly results of this deadly game can really be buried."

Amy nodded. "I think they can. I really think they can."

Thanks, guys, for reading this. I just want to say that it has been a pleasure to write this, and to read all of your reviews.

Scrittore, thanks for hosting this awesome contest. Like, seriously, this was one of the most fun (if not stressful) contests I've ever joined.

I think you did an amazing job with it, although I must say I'm sorry for totally ruining the "rep" by entering with my AWFUL story, "A Deadly Game"

But . . . I must say, it was really fun to write, so thanks to everyone for reading.

A shoutout to my reviewers which include . . . Grace, Ruby, Scrittore, Star, Etincelle . . . and a believe a guest or two.

Thanks so much, guys! I love you all!

May the best entry (Grace's :PPP) win!

-39addict101