Maybe I'm a girl and maybe I'm a lonely girl
Who's in the middle of something
That she doesn't really understand
-Maybe I'm Amazed- performed by Jem

Betty sat down on a stool beside Gladys at the bar. The taller girl wordlessly slid her beer to her friend, who picked it up and took a long drag as she turned and watched Kate walk across open dance floor of the Jewel Box.

"So does this mean I'm forgiven?" Gladys asked.

"Not even close," Betty said, turning back to Gladys and pushing the bottle back to her friend with a small smile.

"Okay, so you were right about Kate. She wasn't ready for the VicMu visit. As usual, this dame's good intentions went south faster than the Hindenburg. I should have listened to you."

"Princess, if we could only come to that conclusion before all transmissions, we'd save enough energy to power Toronto," Betty gave her a crooked half-smile to let her know she wasn't serious.

Gladys smiled, thankful their usual repartee seemed to be falling back into place. She turned to see Kate shaking the hand of yet another reporter. Since the accident, Kate had been hailed the hero of Toronto and it seemed like every paper in the country was trying to corner her. Even a reporter all the way from Albany had come calling one day asking Gladys all kinds of questions about Kate and her life as one of VicMu's great workers.

"How's she doing?"

Betty followed her gaze to Kate, who was stiffly sliding into a booth across from the reporter.

"Wounds are healing," She said, frowning as they watched their friend listen to the barrage questions being thrown at her. "Physical ones at least."

"And the emotional ones? How long do you think that will that take to heal?"

"As long as it takes for a seed to bud into an ear of corn," Betty shrugged, turning back to the bar.

"Is that prairie-speak for only time will tell?"

"See how swimmingly our communication skills have improved since your little revelation?" Betty smirked as she waved for the bartender to bring her a beer.

Gladys rolled her eyes and smiled, before turning to her more seriously. "And how about your wounds?"

"Well, it was touch and go for a while, but I think the scratch on my elbow is healing nicely," Betty quipped, holding her elbow up to show a small bandage placed across it.

"No, you ninny, I meant of the mental kind," Gladys laughed, shaking her head.

"Mental kind? See, this is where we run into trouble, Witham. We may need to bring in the code-breakers now."

"Betty." Gladys warned.

Betty's lips tightened, as she looked at the bottle the bartender had handed her, clearly perturbed at the direction the conversation was going.

"I'll be better when she's better."

Kate shifted uncomfortably in the bench across from the reporter and tried not to think about how the hard booth pressed into the wound of her back.

Instead she tried to focus on the answers she needed to give to the reporter. She had gotten use to the stream of reporters and their questions for her. She felt like a tap dancer as they threw one question after another at her. They would ask her about the accident and what her time in the rubble was like, so she would give them some generic answers about being scared but hopeful that she'd make it out okay. They'd ask her about Reggie and Donald and Henry and she'd do her best footwork to guide them away from the fact that she couldn't remember large portions of what happened inside that disaster. Then would come the questions about her life before the accident, before the factory even, and who was Kate Andrews to the world? She'd tap dance her way through with words like a quiet life and normal. They'd ask her about how she was fairing after the accident and this is where she really knew how to shine. She would tell them about how her friends were taking such good care of her. About how Betty was bringing her back to health and back to life.

Of course, she couldn't tell them about how Betty helped her get through her nightmares by simply sleeping by her side. Almost every night she would find herself dreaming about her father or about being trapped in the rubble again. In her dreams, she could always hear Betty's voice calling her somewhere from within the rubble. Calling her to safety. But every time, she'd weave her way through the debris and climb numerous piles of twisted metal, always following Betty's voice, hoping she'd turn a corner and find her there with a smile that eased her fears, only it never came. The harder she tried to find her, the more lost she became in the rubble. Eventually, Betty's voice would grow weak as if she were moving further away from her and she could feel herself begin to panic. She didn't want to be alone in the darkness anymore. She just wanted to find Betty. After going in circles and finding nothing but dead ends, she would eventually force herself awake with her heart racing and the smell of amatol floating in her memory. She would lay awake with an anxious feeling growing inside of her as she thought of being trapped again. Of being so close to finding Betty, only for her to be just out of reach, the idea of being chained to the darkness but never finding Betty terrified her.

To calm her nerves, all she needed to do was to turn to find Betty sleeping beside her. The sound of her light snoring soothed her soul. The sight of her blonde hair fanning out across the pillow eased her fears. And sometimes, if Betty was turned the other way, she would tuck herself in behind her, her knees folding behind hers, her chest pressed against her back, and she would let the warmth of Betty calm her down enough to fall asleep again. These were the moments that made her feel like she was beginning to heal and the moments she wasn't sure she knew how to explain. How could one girl make her feel so much just by simply being there? No, she wouldn't share that with the man sitting across from her, because she wanted to keep that part of Betty just to herself.

She looked over at Betty where she sat at the bar and smiled at something Gladys said, causing Kate to smile in return. She was glad to see them talking again. She was worried Betty would continue to give the other girl a cold shoulder after what happened at the memorial event. She told Betty it wasn't Gladys fault and she shouldn't be so hard on her, but she also knew Betty could be hard headed.

"What range of music can you do?"

Kate turned back to the reporter across from her as his question brought her back to reality. She'd almost forgotten he was there. She looked at him across from her as he sat there with a briefcase propped open on the table and papers spread out before him while he filled them out with each question he asked.

"You know, style and type. You are the singer, right?" He repeated after her blank stare in response.

"Oh, well, yes, I guess so." She said, unsure where the interview was going. He seemed very interested in her singing abilities since it was the fourth question he'd asked about it. "Mostly blues like Billie Holiday, the Andrews Sisters, and Dinah Shore."

He checked off a few things from the papers in front of him and wrote something Kate couldn't see from her angle. The papers and briefcase surprised her; she'd always pictured reporters with small notebooks and pencils, like the ones she saw in the movies.

"So, I know you've sang here at the Jewel Box, have you performed elsewhere?"

"Well, I've sang a couple of times at a bar across town called Tangiers."

"Mmm," he said, his expression unreadable as he flipped the pages in his hand. He seemed uninterested in her answer, which made Kate feel like she needed to offer more.

"Last year, I performed in a burlesque show and sang in the Witham's bond drive on the radio. We beat AJAX out for most bonds raised."

"Burlesque and Bond Drive, you say?" He asked looking up with interest. Kate nodded in response, still unsure where the interview was leading.

"And what's your dress size?"

"Pardon?" Kate asked, dumbfounded at such a personal question.

"Dress size, you couldn't be much larger than a sparrow, I would say," He said, leaning over and looking her up and down. "That's good."

"I'm sorry, what newspaper did you say you were with again?"

"I didn't. I'm the talent booker for a traveling variety show, you may have heard of it, Van Harper Productions?"

Kate shook her head. She had never heard of it before in her life. Of course, with her sheltered upbringing that didn't mean much.

"Eh, well, it'll be a house hold name soon enough. I'm booking for a show that'll travel around to the military base towns. This War is the ticket to easy street, doll. Between randy troops itching for fun and towns people looking for an escape from the reality around them, traveling variety shows are hot commodities this day and time. And I think you just may be another jewel to add to the crown that will be the Van Harper Traveling Expo."

"Me?" Kate asked, sputtered. This interview wasn't anything like what she originally thought it was.

"Why, sure, doll. I've read all about you in the newspapers. A war worker turned hero and the fact that you can sing too? What a combo. We'll trot you out, where you'll be Florence Nightingale meets Doris Day. The town folks will eat up your wholesome heroics and the soldiers will go crazy for those rolling curves and long legs."

Kate suddenly felt the urge to pull her sweater closer as a nervous feeling slid through her stomach while he explained his vision for her.

"So what do you say? I've got the contract already written right here. Do you want to join the whirl wind adventures that will be the Van Harper Traveling Expo?"

"Betty?" Gladys asked cautiously. "Have you've seen Arlene lately?"

Betty's shoulders tightened at the mention of the other girl's name. She turned from watching Kate stare at the papers lying before her on the table she was sitting at.

"Nope, not since the day of the accident."

"Where is she at now?"

"Gone with the wind, I suppose," Betty shrugged. "She's not much for sticking around when the going gets tough."

"Why is that, I wonder?"

Betty looked over at her with a raised eyebrow, prompting Gladys to continue with her line of thought. She knew she had to approach this carefully.

"It's just kind of weird that she disappeared after the accident, don't you think?"

"What are you getting at, Princess?"

"Do you think she had anything to do with the accident?"

Gladys watched as Betty's playful mood from before deflated before her eyes as the other girl turned back to the bar's counter.

"It's just odd that she disappeared after the accident when there's an investigation going about the suspicious circumstances of the explosion."

"You think she had something to do with the accident?" Betty asked without looking up, her voice was low.

"Well, didn't you say she was the one who gave Kate the bomb set that they think exploded? Maybe she did something to the bomb set to cause the explosion, it's a thought worth considering."

"It's a thought I've tried not to entertain."

"So you have thought of it before?"

"Of course, I can't stop thinking about that day," She said, her eyes steadily locked on the counter before her. "I've considered every twist and turn of that day and it never adds up."

"She never did seem to fit in at VicMu. She always seemed to dislike it and wasn't afraid to put it down every chance she got."

"That's a long way from committing a major crime against the war effort not to mention the deaths it caused."

"True," Gladys nodded, steadying herself for the next part of the conversation. "But, she did seem pretty possessive of you. She certainly didn't warm up to me and she didn't like the fact that factory meant something to you."

"So you think she blew the factory up because of me?" Betty's voice wasn't accusatory, but one that was more of acceptance.

"It's a thought," Gladys shrugged, staring at her own beer. "One that is unfair, criminal and…"

"Unbearable," Betty interrupted.

Gladys looked up at the sound of Betty's defeated tone and looked over at her friend sympathetically.

"It's a thought that's unbearable," Betty murmured, looking up at Gladys with an anguished glance. "If she did anything because of me… If Kate was hurt or the others were…"

Gladys swallowed the lump in her throat as Betty's unthinkable thought trailed off. She reached over and placed a comforting hand on her friend's shoulder.

"Even if there is any truth in this theory of ours, you have no bearing on her actions. Just as Kate has no bearing on the awful things her Father did or said. You are both above that nonsense, do you hear me?"

"It's not exactly the same," Betty tried.

"Maybe, but it's not exactly different either."

Betty looked over at Gladys with a half smile. They both knew Gladys had her with the Kate comparison, it was the only thing that would ever get through to Betty.

"So, what do we do now? We stick the fuzz on her trail?" Betty asked, skeptically.

"Do you think she'll stick around long enough to talk to the police? Based on the stories I've heard, she seems to bolt anytime law enforcement comes around sniffing. I think we'll have to do the leg work ourselves."

"How are we supposed to prove anything? This ain't rope a dope."

Gladys looked over at her with a gleam in her eye.

"Well, I have an idea."

Betty's eyebrows rose and she cocked her head to the side as the statement boldly hung between them.

"Annd with those words the world held its breath."