(Jenny's POV)

"…And from that day, the Cat was born. Whatever the case, you would guarantee that I would be there to solve it. From world domination plans to mass mayhem, I would always be there to combat crime and diffuse humanitarian crises all over London as the mysterious feline heroine, the Cat." When I finished telling my story, there's silence in the cell. I stretch my legs after having them crossed for so long. "Pretty neat story, huh?"

"A fascinating tale indeed," says the Head. "But there are some bits that need to be questioned. For example, how did this Mr. Zed know your name? How did he know where you lived?"

I sigh. "After he saw the video of me on YouTube, he ran a facial recognition on me. Then he looked on the various social networking websites that I would be on. He ended up finding me on Facebook, so that's how he knew my name. As to where I lived, he simply hacked into my e-mail account as my e-mail address was displayed on my Facebook page and pretty much scooped through my inbox and sent folders until he saw a CV and cover letter that I sent to a company a couple of weeks before I met him. That's also how he knew I wanted to take a gap year."

"I see." The Head sits in deep thought. "Tell me, Miss Brownstone, why did you take up Mr. Zed's offer and became the Cat?"

"Well, at first… at first I did it for the money. You know it was when you were a student – you're so poor, you made homeless people feel slightly richer. But then, as time went by, I started to enjoy fighting crime and saving the city from criminals and evil maniacs. I loved having to use my gadgets to kick their butts with. I also loved outwitting the security service and the police and seeing you guys rip your hair out because the credit always went to me. I also enjoyed seeing my name and face in the papers – it gave people something to smile about in the morning before they went to work. There were also the compliments I heard strangers say about me – how good it was that someone who isn't as competent as the police is targeting criminals in an effort to clean up the city, as well as the she is fine like hell comments. But what I loved about being the Cat was the kids – from aged seven upwards, the kids looked up to me and saw me as a hero, wishing they could be me. Now…" I sigh again. "Now the kids will have to find a new hero to look up to since I'm gonna be stuck behind these bars for a long, long time."

"What are you going to tell your family now that you're here?"

"Mr. Zed and I agreed that in the event of my arrest, he should send a letter to my parents saying that I won the lottery and that I decided to travel the world, visiting every city in the country and afterwards, settle down in Australia."

"But you weren't arrest, Miss Brownstone. You turned yourself in."

"I am entitled to a phone call. I'll tell Mr. Zed what's happened and he'll do the rest."

"Hmm." There's silence between us again. Then the Head asks, "Why did you turn yourself in?"

I hesitate. I see where she's getting at. She wants me to talk about Frank.

"I thought you would've figured that out already," I say.

"I would like to hear it from you, Miss Brownstone," says the Head.

"Fine," I huff, crossing my arms. "I turned myself in because if I started running, I wouldn't stop. Also, I didn't want any of my enemies to hurt my family if this got out. Happy?"

"Not really. What you have told me may be the truth, but it's not the full truth is it?"

"So why don't you tell me what the 'full truth' is then," I say irritably.

"Very well. The only other reason that you turned yourself in is because you felt ashamed and foolish to see Agent London. You didn't want to see the look on his face when my agents placed the cuffs on you and threw you in jail, so you decided to trick them into thinking that you were escaping the country. And while everyone was led on a wild goose chase, you decided to quietly turn hand yourself in rather than face the humiliation of being arrested."

"So what if I did? It's better than injuring Frank's dignity and pride if I did get arrested. That already happened when he found out who I was." I can still see the look on Frank's face when he saw me without my mask. Oh Frank, why didn't you just let me go?

"Why didn't you want Agent London or any of the others to see you?"

"Oh, my God," I groan in frustration. "What the hell is this, Twenty Questions?"

"When you're under my jurisdiction, it is Twenty Questions. Now how about answering it?"

I glare at her. "I didn't want Stark in here because I can't stand the thought of him coming in here with his stupid, smug, gloaty face saying how he always knew that I would wound up in here. God, he's so damn smug, that if he got any smugger, he'd give himself a hernia. With Rose, Oscar and Carrie, that's simple. They're my students at St Hope's and I didn't want them to see their teacher – who they've now found out is a crime-buster – doing time. Knowing them, they'd probably tell their friends and the teachers… and Aunt Hermione. She's the deputy headmistress at that school. I'm gonna miss her – even if she is a sour old cow."

"And Agent London?"

I let out another sigh. "With Frank… if I have to see him, talk to him, I shall die. I… I thought I could trust him. I thought he was the one person in the world that wouldn't lie to me, hurt me…" I sniff. "Betray me."

"But… you've lied to him, too."

"No! No, that is where you are wrong. You are wrong wrong wrong. There is a difference between what me and Frank told each other. I told him everything there was to know about me – my friends, my family, hobbies, likes and dislikes, my dreams and ambitions – everything! I just didn't tell him I was the Cat. Other than that, I told him everything about me. He pretty much lied directly to my face about what he did. He told me that he dropped out of school when he was fifteen and worked a number of jobs before becoming a caretaker to St Hope's."

"But you've lied to your family about what you did during your gap year."

"That's different."

"How is that different?"

"Because I'm not dating any of them, am I?!" I snap. I take a deep breath. "I'm sorry. I-I didn't mean… Sorry."

The Head nods, accepting my apology.

"Anyway, now that I know he's an MI9 agent, I'm now questioning everything about him. I mean, is Frank London even his real name? What if it's something posh and stupid like… like Peregrine Carruthers?"

The Head raises her eyebrows a fraction. "I can assure you, Miss Brownstone that Frank London is his real name."

"Well, judging by the way he speaks he sounds like a Peregrine Carruthers. Anyway, the reason why I didn't let Frank in to see me is because… I'm scared that he'll end up hating me."

The cell is quiet. It's chilly as its evening and I'm sitting by a barred window. I shiver.

"Miss Brownstone, Frank doesn't hate you – he loves you," the Head says softly. "Didn't you hear him beg me to let him in to see you?"

I huddle up on the bed in silence, my knees under my chin, closing my eyes and seeing Frank's face fall and obviously his heart breaking when the Head refused to let him in.

"That's all an act," I say eventually, opening my eyes. "He was just saying that so you would let him in. Then he'll come in here, shouting the odds, slagging me off, and then telling me that he hopes I rot in here forever."

"Agent London would never do that. Not to someone he loves."

"Please," I snort. "I'm pretty sure that underneath the cheap suit and kitsch shirt there's a man going crazy, yelling all sorts of stuff, waving his arms around, his fists clenched – like some Neanderthal. And I don't blame him – I was the same when I found out he was a secret agent." A tear rolls down my cheek. I wipe it away. "I, er… I remember the night I found out that Frank worked for MI9. I thought it was a joke a first, but when I saw the documents, I felt my heart take a nosedive, then smashing into a million pieces. I felt so deceived… so foolish. When I went home, I stayed in my room for the entire weekend – the only time I left the room was when I had a shower or needed the toilet. I didn't speak to anyone, not even Livi. I just lay on my bed. Then I'd sit up and punch my pillow again and again and again. I cried. I slept. When I woke up I'd forget just for a second and start thinking happy thoughts about Frank, reaching for my phone to call him – and I remember that it's all over. Even when I escaped to Ireland, I experienced the same pain all over again. It… it was just too much for me. It's too painful."

My throat feels dry and my eyes prickle. I very nearly start crying, but I didn't want to do it in front of someone.

The Head is looking at me. My eyes blur so that she goes all fuzzy. The Head looks down at her watch.

"Listen, it's getting rather late," she says. "I'm afraid I'm gonna have to leave you. Do you want the guards to fix you up something?"

I shake my head. "I'm not hungry."

"Would you like to call anyone?"

"No."

"Very well." The Head stands up and heads for the door. Before she leaves, the Head says, "Just so you know, Frank really does care about you – he thinks the world of you. I saw it in his eyes. The same goes for Agents Gupta, Stewart and Cole – they all care very deeply for you. Don't take that for granted and don't push them out of your life."

Tears are welling up in my eyes when the Head leaves. Before I know it, the dam bursts and all the tears I'd been fighting back for hours suddenly come pouring out again. I fling myself on the bed and cry and cry. I feel so lonely. I want my mum. I know I sound like a wimp, but it's true. I wish my mum was here. And my dad. And Livi. I want all of us squashed in my warm, comfortable bedroom in Cadogan Terrance, like we're a family, us four Brownstones together. But that's not gonna happen. Because I'm never gonna see them again. I'm gonna miss them like crazy. The same goes with Zeke – I'm gonna miss him. He was like the brother I never had. The same goes to Kenzie and Victor (even though I only met Victor once). I'm gonna miss Aunt Hermione. Mr. Flatley, too and my students – Scoop, Homie, JJ, Avril, Davina and Donovan – they were the absolute best. But the group of people who I'm gonna miss the most is Rose, Carrie, Oscar and of course Frank. I wish I didn't tell the Head to tell Frank that he couldn't see me. What I wouldn't give to see him one more time. Just to tell him that I'm sorry for all the trouble I've caused and that… I love him. I love him forever and a day. He's my soulmate, my destined life partner… the One.

But now he hates me. That makes me cry even harder. My boyfriend – my very first boyfriend – resents me. And it's not just the fact that I wouldn't let him see me – I've lied to him, I've been dishonest, I've been deceitful. I don't deserve someone like Frank. I don't deserve this sweet, wonderful, handsome man who has taken me on special walks, whispered lovely things in my ear and made me laugh whenever I was feeling down. I'm not worthy of him. Frank deserves so much better. He needs someone who won't lie to him – she would always tell the truth and will always be faithful to him. He needs someone who's a goody two-shoes – sugar and spice and everything nice. Frank deserves that sort of woman in his life – not some former-costumed-heroine-turned-convict liar. I just hope that maybe someday in the future, he'll find it in his heart to forgive me.

And after hours and hours of crying, I finally manage to doze off – just.

xxoOoxx

"Wake up!" a voice booms.

"Mmm…?" I moan, stirring under the covers. I peep out from the cover to see a male security guard with thick dark hair and big brown eyes standing at the doorway of my cell. I stick my head out from under the cover. My swollen and puffy eyes are blink-blink-blinking because of the bright sunlight that's penetrating through the barred windows and brightening the room. The guard is taken aback when he sees me. I don't blame him. I'm an absolute train wreck. I've spent the whole weekend crying buckets – tanks – swimming pools – about me spending the rest of my life in this dump, not being able to see my friends and family again. Not to mention the whole Frank situation – I'll never see him again either. Plus, I haven't slept much – or eaten. I feel my hair. My ponytail is very loose and it's now a tangled mess. I must look like a zombie. "W-what's going on?" My voice is still choked with sleep.

"The Head of MI9 wants to see you," the guard replies.

"Huh? The Head wants to see me? Did she say what for?"

"All she said is that I should bring you into her office ASAP. Now, let's go."

I pull the covers away and force myself out of bed. I bathe my poor sore eyes in cold water and follow the guard out of the cell and to the elevator. He takes me in the lift up to the top floor, swooping up so fast I feel sick. When I step of out the lift, I get ushered down a maze of corridors until I stop outside the door that reads FRANCINE FAIRCHILD. My heart is thumping like crazy and my stomach is in knots. What does the Head want to see me about? Is she gonna move me to another prison? Somewhere that's even worse than this place? Or is she gonna let me go – after she erases my memory so I'll forget that I was ever the Cat? What does she want with me?!

I jump when the guard knocks on the door.

"Come in," says the Head.

The guard opens the door and enters. "Ma'am, the prisoner's outside."

"Send her in."

The guard comes out. "Go on in."

I make my way into the office, closing the door behind me. I look to the clock that's near the door – it's just after half past nine. I nervously walk over to the Head, who is sitting behind her glass desk, glancing over her paperwork. She's dressed in a Chanel-esque woven black and white suit jacket and matching skirt, a white blouse, sheer black tights, black and white spectator heels, and faux pearl jewellery. The Head looks up and smiles at me.

"Ah, good morning, Miss Brownstone," she says. "Please have a seat."

I sit myself down on the black leather swivel chair feeling flushed and jittery, hardly able to keep still.

"How are you feeling?" the Head asks.

"Like crap," I reply curtly. "I haven't slept, I haven't eaten and my eyes are so red and swollen from the amount of crying I've done, it looks like I've suffered an allergic reaction. Not to mention that I smell a bit funky because I haven't had a shower, so excuse me if I do not smell like roses."

The Head narrows her eyes at me, like she's about to tell me off for being rude. But to be honest, I really couldn't give a flying fuck. I don't have any friends. I don't have a boyfriend. And I'm never gonna see the outside world again. I am Jenny the Jailbird, the girl no-one likes, the girl no-one wants. Poor sad stupid Jenny.

Eventually, the Head draws breath and lets my attitude slide. "You're probably wondering why I called you up here," she says.

I shrug. I seriously don't give a damn.

"I called you here because I have a proposition for you," says the Head.

Oh God, I was right. She is gonna let me go – providing that I have my memory erased, so I'll have no recollection of ever being the Cat. Or being in jail. Or meeting and falling in love with Frank. Maybe it's something even more awful than a memory wipe. Whatever the Head tells me can't be any worse than what I'm thinking of right now…

"How would you like to become an MI9 agent?"