[A/N: Hey all! Time for another update! It may take me some time to get the next one out just because I've really gotta get my schoolwork done but since I already had the outline for this finished, I wanted to get it done this weekend. :)

Let me know what you think!]

Present Day

The following day, after bail had been set, Arnold's lawyer bailed him out and was taking him home to await trial.

"You've gotta keep your head low," The lawyer, Larry Trexler, said. "At this point, the police have tunnel vision. They have no other leads except the cheating husband,"

"I've obviously been set up," Arnold said as he looked out the window, the buildings around them darkened with nightfall. "All that stuff in the diary and the things that neighbor was talking about – they're both full of lies!"

"All of it?" Larry gave Arnold a pointed look and he sighed shamefully.

"Not all of it," He replied, hanging his head. "But I never hurt Lila; I would never. And I had no idea she was… pregnant," Arnold said incredulously, still surprised by that fact and examining the word as if it was suspended in mid-air in front of him.

"Regardless," Larry said as he turned onto Arnold's street. "It doesn't look that way. So until we figure out the truth or at least a good angle to provide reasonable doubt, just try and stay low. Be careful who you trust,"

Arnold nodded, sighing.

. . . . . . . .

About an hour after Larry dropped Arnold off at his apartment, there was a knock on the door. Brainy was at work and Arnold got up off the couch to look through the peephole.

"Gerald!" Arnold exclaimed as he opened the door for his best friend. "What are you doing here?"

"Brainy called me when the police picked you up," Gerald replied, stepping into the apartment. "I had to come check on my brother from another mother," He grinned. "You look a lot better than I was expecting. No shitty jail tattoos, no one hangin' around you callin' you their bitch…"

"Really funny, Gerald," Arnold deadpanned and shut the door.

"I'm just tryin' to lighten the mood," Gerald said, then said more seriously, "Really though, how are you doing? I can't believe they picked you up, man,"

"I'm alright," Arnold shrugged and walked over to the couch to sit down. "Larry bailed me out,"

"That's good," Gerald nodded, following Arnold to the couch. "I'm glad he's got your back and don't worry about the retainer because my parents are taking care of it,"

"What?!" Arnold exclaimed, his mouth agape. "No, that's too – you can't be serious?"

"Arnold," Gerald said solemnly. "My parents consider you family. When I told them what was going on, they insisted. They already called him and told him to send all his bills to them. They've got your back, man,"

"That is so generous," Arnold breathed. "I-I don't know how to thank them…"

"Worry about that later," Gerald waved his hand in the air, dismissing the topic. "For now, you gotta worry about how you're getting your ass outta trouble,"

"You should've heard some of the things they were saying, Gerald," Arnold sighed, leaning back against the couch cushion. "Lila's been writing in some notebook making up stories about me hitting her,"

Gerald's eyes widened. "Are you serious?"

"Yeah," Arnold nodded. "And they found this hammer that was covered in her blood. It's all just so perfectly arranged that I know someone's setting me up. I just don't know who or why,"

"Arnold," Gerald deadpanned. "Now, you know that's bullshit,"

"What?"

"Number one; you know it was Lila. Why the hell would anyone do this? Number two; you cheated on her, Arnold! Yeah, I know it was only once and a mistake and you feel like shit about it but that's reason enough for an already loose screw to pop off!"

"What do you mean?" Arnold asked, his one eyebrow quirked.

"Don't even pretend you don't know Lila changed," Gerald shook his head. "Yeah, she was usually sweet and kind and she was like that when we were kids but she changed by the time we got to high school,"

"Yeah, and I found out why," Arnold said ruefully. "She was attacked and it was really bad,"

"Whoa, really?" Gerald asked, surprised by this information.

"Yeah," Arnold nodded. "Someone threw her in the back of a van and-and…" Arnold paused, uncomfortable with the words. "They brutalized her. She was in the hospital for a while after that,"

"Shit," Gerald shook his head in disbelief. "I had no idea,"

"I didn't even know until after she disappeared," Arnold sighed.

"Why don't they think it was that guy?" Gerald wondered. "The same guy who attacked her before?"

"I guess I'm an easier choice," Arnold shrugged sadly. "They seem to think that was just some random thing, I guess,"

"Damn…" Gerald breathed and the two of them sat in silence for a while until Arnold couldn't take it anymore and decided to change the subject.

"So how is Phoebe?" Arnold asked. "Isn't she pretty far along now? I still can't believe you flew all the way over here,"

"She's doing good," Gerald nodded, feeling the relief of the lighter topic change. "Her mom's been staying with us for a while so she's with her now. When she and I found out you'd gotten arrested, she was encouraging me to come check on you anyway,"

"How long will you be in town?" Arnold inquired.

"The better part of a week," Gerald said then rolled his eyes, begrudgingly adding, "I'm staying with my parents,"

Arnold chuckled. "I'm sure they're glad to have you,"

"Yeah, it's alright," Gerald huffed but smiled.

The two friends hung out for a while longer before Gerald had to run some errands and go home. After he left, Arnold grabbed his laptop and settled back onto the couch with a cup of tea.

He'd wiped his computer several days prior in an attempt to protect himself if the police confiscated it so he had no connection with Helga's computer whatsoever. Theoretically, he could tap back into it – he obviously knew how but would that really be wise, considering how much trouble he was in? Probably not. Larry had told him to lay low, after all.

Still, he wondered how she was doing. And only a few moments later, he found himself feeling weird and self-conscious. It really was strange and creepy for him to spy on her like that. Never before had he ever thought he'd be so desperate to see how she's doing and make sure she was okay that he'd go to such a length as to hack into her computer. Then again, he'd never felt as shameful as he did the day he crashed into her car on the highway. Or as terrible as he felt every day she'd spent in that coma – the better part of a year. After that, he'd had no idea how he could face her – he felt so guilty – and with he and Lila having moved away, it just became more and more difficult to think of any other way to check on her and ease his guilt. By the time he got back in touch with Brainy and started working with computers, he was dying to find out how she was doing.

But he needed to either man up and call her or let it go. That would be the responsible thing to do and he knew that. But there was still part of him that knew how easy it would be to get on the computer and find her again.

. . . . . . . .

Present Day

"I really don't wanna do this…" Helga mumbled to herself as she searched through the online Hillwood phone directory for the Wellington-Lloyd house.

"She might have information that could really help us," Rich reminded her as he poured himself a cup of coffee. It was late afternoon and they'd spent the better part of the morning researching bible verses, trying to see if they could match something up with the names and numbers in Marguerite's journal.

"I know, I know," Helga replied grumpily, her phone pressed to her ear as she waited for someone to pick up. "Oh, hi! Is this Brooke Wellington-Lloyd?" She said in a forced polite voice when someone answered the phone.

"Yes it is," Brooke responded. "May I ask who's calling?"

"Oh, um," Helga stammered. She hadn't really thought about how she would word her questions. "I'm an old classmate of your daughters and I'm trying to help the Bauer family find a missing relative. I've been told you were friends with Marguerite Bauer?"

"I was…" Brooke said and Helga wished she could read her facial expression. Her response was so empty.

"William Bauer says the two of your spent a lot of time together and were very close," Helga continued. "I was wondering if you knew anything that could help us understand –"

"Are you accusing me, Ms. … I'm sorry, you never actually gave me your name," Brooke's voice was biting and suspicious.

"I'm sorry," Helga said, inwardly groaning. She had wanted to avoid telling Brooke who she was if she could. The more anonymity, the better. But she couldn't risk Brooke hanging up on her. "My name is Helga. Like I said, I went to school with Rhonda,"

Brooke was quiet for a moment.

"I'm not accusing you of anything," Helga said before Brooke could say anything. "We're just trying to figure out what happened. If we knew more about Marguerite and maybe anything she was worried about or afraid of –"

"I'm sorry," Brooke cut her off. "But I'm afraid I can't help you. I haven't seen or heard from Marguerite in several years and I would appreciate you not calling my house again,"

"Okay, but –"

"Thank you," And with that, Brooke hung up.

"Well, that was helpful," Helga muttered as she put her phone down.

"I take it she didn't say much," Rich said as he walked over to the table where Helga was sitting.

"Not really," Helga said curtly. "Just that she hasn't heard from Marguerite in a long time and that I'm not welcome to call back anytime soon,"

"That's terribly, terribly unfortunate," Rich said, taking a sip of his coffee but he suddenly felt off and put the mug down on the table.

"Are you okay?" Helga asked, concerned as she saw Rich stumble slightly and his face pale. "What's going on?"

Rich furrowed his brow, bracing himself against the table. "Nothing," He said as Helga stood up, worried. "I'm fine, I'm just… just a little light-headed,"

"Do you need anything?" Helga asked. "What can I do?"

"I'll just sit down for a little while," Rich said, sliding into one of the table chairs and resting his arms on the tabletop. Helga sat back down next to him, one hand on his forearm.

"Are you sure you're okay?" She prodded.

Rich turned slightly and smiled at her. "I'm fine," His smile broadened into a grin. "You're worried about me,"

Helga rolled her eyes. "Don't get full of yourself, bucko,"

Rich chuckled. "It's okay," He said, slowly sitting up and leaning toward her. "I like it," He leaned in and gently brushed his lips against hers. "And I like you,"

Helga blushed and bit her lip in an attempt to stop herself from grinning like an idiot. "Yeah, I can tell,"

Rich sighed and smiled, leaning against the table once again. A moment passed before Helga spoke softly.

"I… like you,too," She said in almost a whisper. Rich wordlessly moved his arm and found her hand with his own, gently caressing the top of hers with his thumb.

"I know," He said and turned his head so that it was resting on his arm and he could face her. "You know, I was terrified when you got shot,"

"Minor flesh wound," Helga batted the air playfully, dismissing it.

"I'm serious," He said, punctuating his point with a gentle squeeze of her hand and she hushed. "I don't want anything to happen to you because you're helping my family. I would honestly understand if you wanted to back out. You've helped us find out so much more than we would've figured out on our own,"

"I told you I was gonna help and that's what I'm gonna do," Helga said, her brow furrowed in determination. "Helga G. Pataki doesn't half-ass her commitments,"

Rich smirked. "You're incredible. Just be careful,"

Helga breathed in deeply, surprised by how much she cared. Surprised by how much Rich meant to her and so quickly. She'd never expected to feel this way about someone else. When she was with him, it almost felt easy to forget about everything she'd been thinking and feeling and planning before. She could imagine herself being happy and feeling secure. She felt wanted and appreciated and needed.

In a burst of bravery, Helga leaned her forehead against Rich's shoulder. "You, too,"

. . . . . . . .

Present Day

Lila had finally settled at a motel in a very rural area one state west of Hillwood. The likelihood of anyone recognizing her so far away from home was slim but she still cultivated a disguise nonetheless. In addition to her new hair, she bought a pair of fake glasses and only wore T-shirts and baggy pants. The weather was progressively getting milder so she could get away with only wearing a light jacket. Lila chuckled, thinking about how much of a conniption Rhonda would be having if she could see how terribly she was dressed.

The motel room was tiny but it was cheap. Lila didn't have a lot of money on her but she figured she wouldn't need much since she planned to be dead in a few days. She just had to wait for the right moment. She'd heard about Arnold's arrest and release on bail on the news the night before. It wouldn't be long now.

Suddenly, Lila heard her cell phone go off and realized she'd forgotten to silence the ringer. She'd gotten countless missed calls and texts since she left Hillwood. She waited for the ringing to stop and when a notification popped up on her phone saying she had a voicemail, she went in to listen to it. She recognized the number and eagerly waited for someone to begin talking.

"Lila dear, it's Brooke, Rhonda's mom," Brooke sighed into the receiver. "Rhonda hasn't heard from you in several days and this may be in vain but I'm hoping they're wrong. I hope Arnold hasn't hurt you and that this is all some sort of misunderstanding. Lila sweetheart, I promised your mother I would always look out for you and I'm so sorry I haven't done as I promised. If you're out there somewhere, if you're listening to this message, you should know that someone is investigating your mother's disappearance. One of your old classmates – Helga, I think her name was. I didn't tell her anything but I fear their putting their noses where they don't belong will only make things worse. If the wrong people find out they're being tracked, it could be very dangerous for a lot of people, including you. I know you told everyone you didn't remember who hurt you as a child but I think… I think maybe you do and I think I know who it was… I don't want anything like that to happen again. I'm not sure what could happen but I just… I want you to be safe. If you're listening to this, if I'm not too late, please call us back and let us know you're alright. We love you, Lila."

The phone was silent, indicating the message was over and Lila took in a deep breath. Why was Helga asking questions about her mother? And if Brooke knew who had attacked her when she was younger, maybe that meant Lila could find them and get back at them for what they did to her. Maybe she was a fool, amped up on anger, vengefulness, and apathy toward her own life. Either way, she needed more time. She needed to figure things out. She needed to learn more. And she'd only be able to survive on the money she had for a couple more days, then she'd be living out of her car which wasn't the most reliable thing. She'd bought it for a couple hundred dollars from someone she'd met on Craigslist and there was no guarantee it would last much longer.

She thought for a little while and eventually she came up with a new plan. She would postpone her suicide just a little longer. First, she needed some time to find out what was going on. Brooke's message had intrigued her and she wanted more information.

There was a metal alarm clock sitting on the end table next to the bed. Lila walked over, picking it up and examining it as she walked to the bathroom. She spent a couple minutes looking long and hard at her reflection in the mirror. If she was going to sell her story, it needed to be believable.

She removed her fake glasses and lifted her arm, alarm clock in hand. With one swift motion she brought her arm back, hitting herself in the eye with the clock as hard as she could.

. . . . . . . .

Present Day

Later that evening, Rich had been feeling better and so he'd offered to make dinner. While he was in the kitchen preparing, Helga had opted to take a bath. After everything that had been going on and their tireless research, she certainly deserved some time to relax.

Helga sank down into the bathtub, the warm water instantly soothing every ache in her body and she leaned her head back against the edge, sighing deeply.

It was hard to make sense of everything that had happened in such a short period of time. To be so depressed and ready to end her life in a self-sacrificial atonement for the accident she caused and then find herself blushing and happy with someone she'd never imagined herself being with? It was surreal and part of her still felt guilty for it but it was hard to feel bad when Rich was around her. He made her feel light and warm, like everything was going to be alright. Even when she was scared because someone obviously didn't want them digging into Marguerite's disappearance, somehow she felt okay knowing that Rich was with her. It was like some sort of romantic action movie that the two of them were starring in and even when everything went down, they'd find a way to overcome it together.

Helga could smell dinner cooking and her mouth watered slightly. She hadn't eaten in several hours and Rich was so sweet to make a meal for them.

Suddenly, a loud thud came from the other room and Helga's heart rate jumped. "Rich?" She called from the tub. "Are you okay out there?"

When she didn't get an answer, she quickly jumped out of the tub and wrapped a towel around herself, her feet tracking water across the floor.

"Rich?" She called, walking out into the hallway and toward the living area. "Rich, are you – Rich!"

Rich was lying in a heap on the floor in the kitchen area. Potatoes were still sizzling in the pan and vegetables had yet to come to a boil.

"No, no, no, no!" Helga repeated, her voice breaking as she rushed over to his side. "Rich, wake up!" He was still breathing but unresponsive.

Helga jumped up and grabbed her cell phone from the table, dialing 9-1-1 and fighting to keep her composure. "Yes, I need an ambulance," She said. "My… my friend has collapsed and I don't know why. He's still breathing but he has a heart condition. Please hurry!"

Once the ambulance was on its way, Helga dropped her phone back on the table and fell to her knees next to Rich. "Please be okay," She said, tears brimming in her eyes as her voice broke. "Please,"

[A/N: Hey guys, I was thinking about something. I know this fic is super unusual and the characters are going through a lot of crap but I wanted to ask, do you think they're still in character? Obviously, they will behave differently and be affected by the crazy things that have happened but I just want to make sure I'm maintaining the essence of who they are deep down while incorporating the drama. Let me know what you think! I love hearing your thoughts, predictions, questions, etc.]