Ch. 5. Irretrievable Trust

Beta: Stacyo72 and maxandmo

Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer owns all things Twilight. No copyright infringement is intended.

EPOV

A/N A lot of you have expressed confusion over the timeline so I'm adding this A/N to explain where we are. Because this was a contest entry, I had to squeeze a lot into the original chapter to fit the word limits. Basically, ch. 1 is the contest entry in BPOV. Ch. 2 is EPOV from the moment of Bella's arrest through the next 24 hours. The next few chapters fill in the details I couldn't fit for the original contest entry: Ch. 3 is the trial from BPOV. Ch. 4. BPOV prison experience until her release. Ch. 5 is EPOV from 3 weeks after her arrest to until just before he visits her at the detention center. The next chapter should catch the story back up to the confrontation and then it will be all forward from that point.

"Edward, you don't want to be late for your first appointment," my mother's head appears as she cracks open my bedroom door. Not only did I ignore her excessive knocking, but I'd also neglected to turn the lock last night. There's no reason to do so, I have nothing to hide. It isn't as though I have the ambition or desire to jack off. Whenever I close my eyes and try to picture some gorgeous woman naked, I inevitably think of Bella and that makes me think of the tape showing James Floyd's pasty naked body doing unspeakable things to my girlfriend; correction: ex-girlfriend. Correction again: the con artist who made a fool of me. I groan and roll over to face the windows.

"Edward…" My mom uses that special mother voice, the one that tells me she loves me but she'll be forever disappointed if I don't do what she says immediately. My first instinct is to say Esme in the same tone but I know she won't appreciate that.

"I really don't think this is necessary," I state instead.

"Honey, if you don't then that just further proves that it is. She still has you under her evil spell."

I huff as I hide my face in my pillow. Even though my mother doesn't know about the sex tape, she's seen enough of the emails to understand the depths of Bella's betrayal. I've read them all, repeatedly and etched the words into my memory. "Trust me, mom. Bella Swan is the last person that I want in my life."

"Edward, you've done nothing for the past three weeks except lie in bed, read those horrid emails, and eat junk food. She has a complete hold over you. Dr. Fernandez will help you to regain control of your life. He comes very highly recommended, and he's helped me tremendously the past month."

"I'm so glad those Cullen Conglomerated health benefits are working for you," I snark.

I can't help it. We couldn't afford a high priced shrink like Fernandez if it wasn't part of the premier level health coverage my dad has always provided to his employees. Our coverage will remain in effect until our renewal date in July. After that, we're at the mercy of the healthcare marketplace. Before, Cullen gave extraordinary benefits to its workers: retirement plans and top level insurance including health coverage, life coverage, disability coverage - everything. Until we'd laid almost everyone off, there had been on-site day cares at our headquarters and our factories. We'd offered flexible work hours, gym memberships, profit sharing, stock options; we even had one of the best executive chefs in the nation working in our cafeteria. We were once considered one of the best employers in the country, and look at us now, destroyed by one of our own. No good deed goes unpunished.

"Edward Anthony Cullen! I am grateful for what we still have. Even after the awful things those two thieves did, at least we have the means to recover from this. We might not have much left but it's still more than most. Think about those poor employees we had to let go. I spoke to Shelly Cope just last week. She's working for a temp agency. She has no benefits, and her pay is less than half what it was at Cullen. All of her retirement savings are gone, and why? What did she ever do but work for us? Those two greedy…."

My mom sputters trying to think of names bad enough to describe Bella and Floyd and fails. She surprises me by attempting profanity but can't quite finish the word.

"Assho- asses. I want to see both of them rotting in prison. I don't care if we never get a dime back, I just want them punished for hurting people the way they did."

I sigh as I sit up and rub my eyes. "You're right, Mom. I'm sorry. Give me a few minutes, and I'll meet you downstairs for breakfast."

Mom smiles brightly, her caramel brown hair bobbing as she nods and grasps my hands.

"That's better, Edward. Alice and I went grocery shopping yesterday. She showed me how to download an app on my phone to get coupons and discounts. The clerk scanned my phone when we checked out, and we saved eight dollars! Plus, I got a rewards card you scan for extra savings, and I saved another ten dollars with that! Oh, and did you know that the store carries its own brands that are cheaper than the name brands? I bought generic for everything I could. It's a wonder Cullen is still in business. Did you know the store pain reliever costs three dollars less per bottle? I checked but of course, I didn't buy the store brand. " She stage whispers the last part before she kisses my forehead and shuts the door behind her as she leaves. I can't help but smile; my mother: the Cullen Coupon Queen.

A few minutes later, I stroll into the kitchen to make myself a cup of coffee. I spin the Keurig carousel looking for my favorite Sumatran Reserve Dark Roast in vain.

Apparently, my mother's new love of generic has extended to coffee since every K-cup is labeled Safeway Select. I'm about to tease her when Rosalie's voice carries from the next room.

"What do you mean? Hunter was already accepted to The Bush School!" Rosalie's lack of understanding is apparent in her tone of voice.

I make my coffee, Safeway brand Sumatra, and walk over to sit at the table as my father grimaces, apparently not happy at having to tell my sister something she won't want to hear. Emmett ignores them as usual, tapping away on his laptop. Since he and Rose married five years ago, he's occasionally dabbled in day trading. If someone asks, he'll tell them he's a stockbroker but his main occupation is keeping Rose happy. I consider that a full-time job. I'm sure he's underpaid, and I doubt he gets many benefits. I grab a bowl and reach for a box of generic Honey O's, pouring the Safeway one percent milk over it.

"Rosalie, we can't afford it. I don't have twenty thousand dollars to give you. If you and Emmett can't pay for it either then I'm sorry but Hunter will have to attend a less expensive school."

Rosalie stares at our father, her expression indicating that she still can't comprehend what he's saying.

"Not attend? Before this damned Supreme Court verdict they would have been groveling to get a Cullen in their school but now… Do you know how hard I worked to get him in? We had interviews, tests, and references before they approved. Now he's finally accepted and you're telling me he can't go? No one declines acceptance to The Bush School."

Dad sighs, running his hand through his hair. I can't help but notice the white streaks along his temples. Paired with the lines in his forehead, and the bags under his eyes, they are visible reminders of the strain we've all endured since we lost the Supreme Court case. Never in his life has he had to deny us something. We always had the best schools, the best camps, the best athletic opportunities, as well as the newest toys, cars, and gadgets.

"Rosalie," my mother's voice is soft and tender as she gently grasps Rosalie's hand. "If you want Hunter to attend The Bush School, then I suggest you contact them about financial aid. You have almost no income or assets at this point. You should qualify for something. If not, Hunter will have to attend someplace else. I've heard very good things about the public school in our neighborhood."

Rosalie's blue eyes suddenly flash with anger as she pulls her hand away. "Public school?" She shrieks. "No Cullen has attended public school in over a century."

My father hangs his head in shame. I know he feels he's failed us all. To be the head of the Cullen dynasty meant being able to provide your family with the proverbial silver spoons.

"Rose, it's not Dad's fault. He's doing everything he can to keep us afloat right now." I walk over and place my hand on my dad's shoulder as a show of support.

Her gaze settles upon me, and I know what's coming. "No, we know damn well whose fault it is! You see what that bitch has done to this family? Even Hunter has to suffer. His whole future will be affected. Hunter was practically guaranteed an Ivy League education if he went to Bush. Do you know how hard it is for a public school student to get into a top university? They have to be brilliant."

"Rosalie, you're being ridiculous. I told you all we have to do is sell the M3 and we'll have enough money to send Hunter to that fancy school and we can still afford a less expensive car." Emmett has the closest thing to a scowl that I've ever seen on his normally placid face.

I'm stunned to hear my brother-in-law speak up. He rarely contradicts anything Rosalie says. In my opinion, that's the main reason why they've been together so long. Until I met Emmett, I doubted Rosalie would ever find anyone that would commit to her ice princess act for the long term. Alice had nicknamed him Saint Emmett of the Hope Chest when he and Rosalie had begun to get serious.

"Sell my car? That's your answer to everything. Then what are we supposed to do after that money runs out? Sell your car too and then what? Sell my jewelry? Your golf clubs? What happens when we run out of things to sell, Emmett?"

Emmett sighs. He turns the laptop in front of him around to face his wife. I can see his LinkedIn profile. I didn't know Emmett had one.

"Rosalie, we need to get jobs like normal people. I've already started interviewing. One of my teammates from Brown thinks he can get me in at his investment firm. I'll have to pass a few exams and become licensed before I can take on my own clients but it's a good opportunity. I've played in the market as a hobby for long enough. I can do this."

Rosalie sits down across from him. She exhales and I can see the fight in her dissipate.

"Where is this company?"

"Secaucus, New Jersey."

"You want to move back to the East Coast?"

Emmett nods slowly, watching her closely.

"But what about Hunter and his schooling?"

"There are plenty of private schools in New Jersey and New York. We could afford them with this job. Rosie, don't you see? This is a chance for us to show what we're made of; to show that we've got what it takes to succeed in life without relying on your family's money or reputation. Haven't you ever thought about practicing medicine? You're a Harvard trained neurologist, Rose. You graduated five years ago. Don't you think it's time you completed your residency somewhere? Secaucus isn't far from New York. You could apply to Mount Sinai or one of the other top hospitals there."

"I… I don't know, Emmett. It's been a long time since I graduated." I'm surprised to see the look of doubt in my sister's eyes.

"Rose, honey, you were the salutatorian of your class. I'm sure you didn't forget everything just because you took time off to get married and start a family." My mother leans forward and again places her hand over Rosalie's, smoothly ignoring the fact that Rose never intended to work. Cullens didn't need to work before now.

"Mom…"

"Rose, I've never known you to be afraid to try something. Yes, you might fail but I doubt you will. Just because we don't have that safety net of money to fall back on is no reason not to reach for your dreams."

I watch my mother in awe. I had no idea she was such a talented spin doctor. Maybe she should be the one in charge of Cullen Conglomerated PR. She and Emmett are so convincing in their arguments that it's almost possible to forget that Rose didn't want to ever practice medicine or move to the East Coast.

I leave them and walk into the main entry hall. A large pile of mail is sitting on top of the antique marble top mahogany console. I stop and flip through, pausing when I see a letter addressed to me in a familiar backward scrawl. The P.O. Box in the corner leaves no doubt, even if I hadn't recognized her handwriting. There's only one person I know currently residing in the SeaTac Federal Detention Facility.

Edward,

I keep hoping every day that you will have found it in your heart to respond to one of my letters. When I saw Alice I thought that perhaps you were with her and that you finally realized that I'm not capable of these crimes, but you didn't come with her. I need you to know that I'm innocent. Even more importantly, I need you to believe in the depths of your heart and soul how much I love you. I would never betray you. I would never purposely hurt you. Edward, you and J.J. are my whole world. I don't know why this has happened, I don't know what I did to make James Floyd hate me so much that he would not only blame me for his crime but fabricate a relationship between us. . .

"Go on, Edward."

Doctor 'Eleazar is so formal, please call me Lee' Fernandez sits across from me, relaxing into his comfortable chair while I remain perched on the edge of mine. My knee bounces nervously, sending a staccato rhythm through my leg and down to the floor. If I concentrate I might be able to tap out S.O.S. in Morse code. I wonder if Lee would notice. He's still waiting for a response from me, some sort of acknowledgement that I know I'm supposed to keep talking. I stare down at my black leather Italian loafers. I bought them on the trip. I wouldn't wear anything from that time except I don't have any other clothes. Technically, I don't own them. The credit card company does since I haven't paid that bill yet. However, it's not like I can just fly back to Switzerland and return them to the Gucci store. Seven hundred and fifty dollars and I didn't bat an eye. Now, it's a king's ransom. Maybe I should set up an E-bay account and sell them. I could buy ten pairs of shoes at Nordstrom's or even twenty pairs at Payless for that price. Christ, now I'm turning into the male version of my mother, the upper class coupon queen.

"Edward?"

I look up and find Lee watching me with that patented concerned doctor face. We should hire this guy to star in the next Cullen's Pain Reliever commercial. I crumple the piece of paper in my hand. Reading it out loud is useless.

"There isn't much more. She goes on about her innocence and her feelings for me."

"How do you feel about receiving a letter from Bella?"

Here we go, the old 'tell me how you feel so you can have a self-realization moment while I bill your insurance two hundred dollars an hour.' This is why I didn't want to bother with this psychoanalysis crap. I clear my throat and answer, if only so I can tell my mother that I put in the effort.

"I'm angry although I'm not sure what I'm angrier about: the fact that she's writing to me or the fact that my family has been hiding it for the past three weeks. When I read that Alice had gone to visit her and hadn't told me…"

I pause; my fists dig into my knees. I try to relax and release them but I need to grab onto something. My anger is palpable.

"They're treating me like I'm some sort of basket case. I'm twenty–six years old. Yes, Isabella Swan meant everything to me. When she was first arrested, I supported her and believed in her. I wanted to help her, I wanted to get her a top attorney and get her freed," my right hand moves to my chest, rubbing the spot that aches all the time. "Even now, there's a part of me that still wants to think this is all some horrific mistake but I know that's not true."

"What changed your mind Edward? What convinced you that she is guilty?"

I close my eyes, wincing as I try to black out the memory of her and Floyd.

"The evidence is overwhelming. There are all sorts of documents with her signature, text messages on their phones, emails on both their computers. The evidence all points to her guilt. At first, I thought they might have been fabricated but then… What we say here is confidential, correct?"

Lee nods. "Yes, nothing can break the doctor - patient confidentiality."

"I received something that no one knows about, except my sister Rose," I begin cautiously. I don't want to implicate Detective DeNali. "It's a sex tape of them- Floyd a-and … her. I watched it. The shit that was on it- the things he said and did- it was made specifically to taunt me, to humiliate me." I stare out the window behind the doctor. If I focus on the trees and the sky, I might be able to block the images that are burned into my memory.

"How many times have you watched the tape, Edward?" Lee asks, his pen suspended above the notebook in his hand. I notice that he hasn't taken many notes so far.

"Just the one time. I almost didn't watch it then. I'd been going non-stop since she was arrested at the airport. I wanted to do everything I could to help her." I make a sound of contempt. "Good thing I saw it when I did. She would have loved it if I showed up at the prison with a lawyer for her defense. I'm a real idiot." I run my hands through my hair tugging at the ends.

"Why do you think that they wanted to humiliate you?"

Lee is the picture of cool and reserved. I almost want to tell him he's the preppiest Latino I've met since my freshman year at Wharton when Juan Ortiz and his big backpack sat in front of me in Poli-Sci class but I'm not sure if it's socially acceptable to say that. Would he be offended? Is it wrong to call a Latino preppy or is it wrong to think that as a group they aren't preppy? Is that stereotyping? It's like those white people problems my little sister is always hash-tagging in her Tweets.

"Edward?"

Shit. I let my mind wander again. I squirm in the big comfortable chair that I can't get comfortable in. I need to just get this over with and not appear too messed up so he'll give me the green light and my family won't keep thinking I'm some sort of modern day Jonestown resident. I'm not drinking the Kool Aid. I was an idiot to think I'd be able to get away with one or two sessions. As long as I've got a top of the line insurance plan, Lee will just keep prolonging my treatment. He's just as much a scam artist as Bella.

"They obviously hate me and my family but I don't know why. I thought Bella really cared about me but between the tape and the emails, it's clear she resented me and my family. I know some of them weren't always the easiest to handle," I add, thinking of Rose, "but I always wore my heart on my sleeve with her. She knew how I felt and she used it to her advantage."

I get asked more questions about my past relationships, and I have to admit there really weren't any. I dated girls, slept with girls, but I'd never really committed to someone until Bella.

"Why do you think that is?" Lee asks in that annoying doctor way.

I know why but I don't want to admit it. So, I play it off.

"I just hadn't met the right person until Bella."

There's no need to tell him that I'm referring to when I was fifteen and not when I was twenty-five. He's not buying it though. He keeps pressing about my feelings for Bella - when I first knew I loved her, when I decided to pursue her, even when I first was attracted to her sexually. I'm just about to tell him that I don't want to talk about her anymore when he asks:

"Edward, have you masturbated today?"

"What?" I choke out.

"When was the last time you masturbated?"

"What the hell does that have to do with anything?"

"You're a twenty- five year old healthy male."

"Twenty-six". I interject.

Lee nods. "Twenty-six. The majority of men your age masturbate daily," Lee doesn't seem at all perturbed by my indignation, which just pisses me off more.

"I haven't exactly had a normal existence the last few weeks. There's been a lot on my mind. Do you actually expect me to care about the last time I jerked off when my life has been turned upside down?"

"Bella seems to have an inordinate level of control on your sexual identity. You've admitted that she was the first woman you personally knew whom you fantasized about when you were a teenager. Your liaisons with other woman were limited to either purely sexual relations or ended when you were unable to find a sexual attraction to them. Ask yourself Edward, how many of the women you had sex with resembled Bella Swan in some way – were they brunettes? Did they have her eyes? Her laugh? Now ask yourself why you didn't have sex with the other women you dated. Was it because they didn't remind you of Bella?"

I sit there with my mouth hanging open, gaping like a fish. "That is fucked up, you realize that?" I finally respond. "Do you realize how many women I've slept with? I'm a fucking Cullen. Girls have been throwing themselves at me since I was sixteen years old. I can walk into any bar and have my pick."

Lee ignores my profanity. "Edward, was the pick a girl that resembled Bella Swan?"

I won't meet his eyes. "I couldn't say," I lie.

The fact is I'm afraid to really think about it because he's probably right. My first, a girl from a girls' boarding school near my boarding school, did have big brown eyes and long chestnut hair. There had been several others before I had arrived in Philadelphia for my college years. Had they really all been brunettes?

"Is it wrong to have a type? Many men prefer blondes or red-heads. Maybe I liked Bella because she was a brunette rather than I like brunettes because of Bella." I argue. It's weak but it's my only defense right now.

Lee acquiesces. "It's possible. Only you can truly answer that question."

Great! More frigging psycho-babble. I half listen as he goes on and on about my stunted sexual maturity and how my school boy crush evolved into an inability to form a connection to anyone else. He's making me sound like some sort of creepy stalker. It's not like I used to stay up at night and watch her sleep. Well, okay maybe just once or twice but only because I couldn't fall back to sleep myself. I'm musing over this information when he shocks me again.

"Edward, I'd like you to try to masturbate before our next session."

I'm sure my face can't hide my surprise. "You're serious?"

Lee nods. "I think it's a good place to start. You should also try to work up to having intercourse with a woman. It's okay to start with a brunette but I want you to experiment with different body types, different hair colors."

"You're asking me to sleep around as part of my therapy?" I can't believe my mom sent me to this quack.

"Edward, if you can't free yourself from the hold that Bella Swan has on you, I fear that you will suffer permanent damage. She has done immeasurable harm to your ego and we need to begin the process of recreating your sexual identity."

I swear if Lee's next suggestion is that I experiment with men, I'll probably pop him in the mouth. I get out of there as fast as possible, determine to whack off as soon as I get home just so I can prove there's nothing wrong with my sexual identity and we can end this ridiculous therapy bullshit. It briefly crosses my mind that Detective DeNali is a blonde and she'd definitely expressed an interest. No, I couldn't. She has seen the tape. If I pump and dump someone, it can't be someone that knows how much I've been humiliated. Just thinking about it makes my balls shrivel up and crawl inside me.

"He seriously said that to you?" Rose asks me as we sit in my room later that afternoon.

"Yes, my therapy homework is to jerk off and/or get laid." I huff. I had driven around for a while to let myself cool off before I came home. A confrontation with Alice about those letters is still on my agenda but for now, I wasn't ready to deal with her and her meddling. I was still teetering between completing my assignment to demonstrate sex was no big deal and blowing the whole thing off because this so-called brilliant shrink was crazier than his patients.

Emmett's large bulk fills the frame of my doorway.

"Dude, I never got homework like that!" Emmett's laugh is good natured but I don't see the humor in the situation.

"This isn't schoolwork, you ass. Edward's seeing a psychologist," Rose explains. I can hear the laughter in her voice behind the apparent exasperation.

"Ah, I get it. You need to find someone that looks just like Bella, fuck her, and dump her ass."

I roll my eyes. "Emmett this isn't some John Hughes movie. That's not going to work."

"It was a Cameron Crowe movie!" Emmett retorts before admitting "Yeah, Lloyd Dobler didn't take that advice either."

"Did you tell him about the tape?" Rose asks and I feel my face flush.

"Rose!" I look over at Emmett who's watching us like we're in the finals at Wimbledon.

"What tape? A sex tape? Whoa, Edward, I didn't know you were into that. Did you do any kind of kinky shit? Did she tie you up? Was she like a dominatrix? She always seemed so nice but now we know that was all an act…"

"Emmett!" Rose stops him before he can further humiliate me. "It wasn't a tape of Edward and Bella."

Despite his good natured jock routine, Emmett isn't an idiot. Idiots don't graduate Cum Laude from Brown.

"Ooooh, sorry," he replies and says nothing more. I never knew silence could be so loud. My ears are reverberating with the rush of blood pumping through my veins.

After a few moments, I realize Rose still wants an answer. "I told him." I reply but say nothing more. Instead I get up and go to my bathroom to retrieve a bottle of hand lotion and a box of tissues. I don't plan on doing what it looks like, but I know it will get Rose and Emmett out of my room.

"If you two don't mind, I'd like some privacy. I've got homework to finish."

Rose wrinkles her nose as she stands up. "If you want us to leave, just say so. I really don't need to have that image in my head."

"Edward? Did you hear the question?"

I look up to see Lee is once again watching me like he really gives a shit about my emotional well-being. Maybe he does.

"Edward?"

I clear my throat. "Um, yeah- Yes. I heard the question," I stall. "I delayed it a few days but I'm going to see her tomorrow. My sister Rose is coming with me."

Lee's eyebrows do some calisthenics, up then down. "I see." He writes something down in his notebook. He's been doing that more each session. I'm up to twice a week now.

"Have you done your preparations as we previously discussed last session?"

My homework had progressed from rubbing out to writing about Bella and the impending visit at the prison. I planned to go earlier but I chickened out. Truthfully, I'd hoped that Alice's talk with her would get her to stop writing to me. However, the letters keep coming. It's clear even to me that she's still attempting to get me on her side. She must think I'm the most gullible jackass in the world.

I grab a swig of water from the bottle on the table in front of me and glance around. Lee's office isn't what I pictured when I first made the appointment. I had an image of a dark leather couch, dark heavy wood furniture and dusty tomes of text books crowded together on walnut bookshelves. Instead, this place looks more like a beach rental. There's a set of large windows overlooking the bay, and the furniture is bleached to the lightest shade of old driftwood.

I finish my drink and set it down on the desk in front of me. Lee leans back in his comfy chair and waits for me to answer.

"I don't think … that is it could be fifty years from now and I still won't be completely prepared to see her. That said, I've thought a lot about her effect on me both before and after she was arrested. I know without a doubt that I would have never left Bella, for all of the reasons we've previously discussed," I squirm in my chair.

The last session two days ago was the first time I'd admitted that Lee had been right about my attachment to Bella. With Lee's guidance, I see how unhealthy my fixation with Bella was and how easily she took advantage of it. I'd never considered sleeping with anyone that didn't resemble her. I've never dated anyone that didn't remind me of her. When I discovered that she was single, I threw all my years of education and training aside to proposition her in her office, completely disregarding my position as her boss. I should have suspected she was up to no good when she didn't slap me with a sexual harassment complaint.

At the time I chalked it up to my ability to charm anyone. I was such a self-centered jackass. Then, when I finally managed to get her in my bed, it wasn't enough. I went full tilt, rushing head long into being Mr. Relationship Guy. I wanted to be with her at work, on the weekends, at night. I never noticed that she had me isolated. I didn't spend my free time with anyone else. I never saw my family unless they came to the company. I didn't bother to contact my old friends. All I wanted was to be with Bella. I wanted to be her Prince Charming. I wanted her to feel as though her life was one of those chick flicks come to life. Every time she expressed doubt in our relationship, I redoubled my efforts to prove I was the right man for her. She manipulated me effortlessly.

I thought about my grandmother's ring sitting at the bottom of my bedroom drawer. I had planned to give it to her at Christmas but then I took it with me to Switzerland. I almost asked her then but I wanted it to be the biggest, most elaborate proposal ever. It's a good thing I did take the ring with me otherwise it would have been left in my apartment that she sold, contents included, while we were away. I should really return it to my dad. I know he wouldn't sell it even if we could use the cash but still, it's not like I need another reminder of what a patsy I was.

Lee and I spend the rest of the session discussing how I plan to approach my visit with Bella. I hope it will be brief and focused. I want her to stop writing and leave me alone.

A/N Welcome back! If you follow me on Twitter, you may have seen my tweets earlier today regarding my decision to post all new updates to Fictionpad first. So, if you're reading this on you could have read it 12 hours earlier on Fictionpad. My reasons for this are explained in the blog I posted on that site as well. Speaking of the Fictionpad blogs, now that I've discovered that nice little feature, I plan on using it regularly to keep you all updated so that you'll know that I haven't dropped off the face of the Earth if takes me six months between updates. The good news is it definitely won't take that long between this IT chapter and the next one. In addition to what's posting tonight, I've got another 4k words written. I am hoping to add more to that and post whatever I have finished next Friday. This chapter isn't at all what I planned on writing. I thought I'd write a few paragraphs about Edward's experiences with psychiatry and move right into the confrontation scene at the end of Ch. 4. However, as so many writers know, the story had other ideas and as much as I tried to fight it, I had to go the way it wanted me to go. That's part of the reason this took so long, I just couldn't get it to the point where I originally envisioned the chapter would end. I finally just accepted that the EPOV from the time period before and during the trial will take at least 2-3 chapters. That means that the story will be longer by at least that many chapters, maybe even more. I hope you all think that's a good thing.

I posted plenty on Twitter and my Fictionpad blog regarding my thoughts on the most recent purge. One last comment: as many of you know, I participated in Countdown 2014 Fact or Fiction last fall. Unfortunately, deleted not just the Countdowns but the entire profile of Breath-of-Twilight, the host. I haven't spoken to her since this happened so I don't know if she plans on reposting the Countdowns on a different site. Both of my o/s for the Countdown 2014, the Halloween story Ghost Noteand the Christmas story Get Here, are available here under my own profile.

By the way, my favorite band, Duran Duran will be part of the Fashion Rocks concert on Tuesday, Sept. 9th at the Barclay Center in NY along with Usher, JLo, Pitbull, Kiss, Miranda Lambert, and many more. In the U.S., you can watch it live on CBS from 9-11 pm EST. You know I'll be watching. Also, on Wednesday, Sept 10 for one night only, the 2011 David Lynch concert film Duran Duran: Unstaged will be shown in theaters across the U.S. If you've ever wondered what the director of Twin Peaks and Blue Velvet would bring to a concert film, here's your chance to watch mice puppets dancing and sausages grilling all to the tune of Come Undone. No, I'm not kidding. It's David Lynch, of course it's weird.

Let me know what you think of the chapter, Duran2, David Lynch, whatever... XO Shelly ( Shelly_duran on Twitter)