Hi pals! Hope you all had a wonderful holiday season. I'm back in the states for the next week and finally getting a breather (when I'm not catching up old friends), so it seems like a great time to update. Thank you to all who read/reviewed A Cup of Cheer. It was fun to take a little break from this to write something different.

Chapter 18: Phase Eighteen- Encounter the Unexpected

Mary realized that with rain drenched hair, comfortable clothing, and no make up- she was virtually unrecognizable. Which, given the situation and headlines, was certainly an asset.

It had been a help when her helicopter had landed in York. She'd been unnoticed as she sipped a cappuccino at an artsy café, as she tried to figure out the address of where she needed to go. The warm drink helped make up for the horrible, first blustery storm of the autumn that had blown in. She sorted through old texts and sent Sybil a few more, till she figured out where she needed to go.

"Have you heard about the Crawley's?" Asked a person at the table over to their coffee date.

"Which one?" Laughed their partner in response.

Mary cringed. She needed to get out of a public place before her hair dried and she looked more recognizable. Turning back to her phone, she searched online for cabs in York. She dialed the highest reviewed one listed.

"We usually don't drive that far into the countryside, miss," The cab driver said when she read him the address.

"Please, sir, I'll pay you triple," She told him.

"Alright then, where shall I pick you up?"

Everything was numb for Matthew. He fumbled to his suitcase to pull out a t-shirt, sinking down on the bed.

He didn't want to think. He didn't want to let it sink in that it was all over. Mary, who had brought so much joy to his life, was gone. She had helped him learn to cope with his fears. She had comforted him through the hardest moments. She had given the energy to make real differences.

But now it was all gone.

It was all a lie.

I had all been a lie.

He would have to get back to New York as soon as possible. He needed to be gone from this house. He didn't want to deal with this here, with the press lurking outside. He didn't want to deal with it as he felt vulnerable and shaky and like there was nothing, nothing in the world he could trust.

Still unfeeling, he moved to finish dressing, finding a crumpled pair of jeans in the bottom of his suitcase. He pulled them on before beginning to pack up all his things. He threw it all in haphazardly into his suitcase. Mary's things lay scattered around the room. Like the things left behind when someone leaves before a disaster. Like things left behind after someone dies.

She was a ghost here.

That was the hardest part of it all. He didn't want it all to be true. He didn't want to have gotten angry at Mary. He didn't want it all to fall apart. But he couldn't trust her. He'd seen the e-mails. She admitted them were true. She could have been putting on a farce the whole time. She might be just be a very good and thorough actress.

He didn't know what to do with the things she left behind, so he left them scattered there. Daisy was still here, hoping happily around the corner, oblivious to the heartbreak. He'd have to remember to text Sybil to take care of her. Regardless of his feelings about Mary, he didn't want the sweet little bunny to suffer.

He paused to brush his teeth and hair, before tossing those also into his suitcase. He left his room key on the dresser, determined to not come back.

If Mary could take off on a helicopter, he too could get out of dodge.

He turned into the hallway, thinking how he wasn't unlike Larry, barreling down the hallways the day before. But it was the opposite- Larry had been using Sybil, Mary had been using Matthew. He couldn't believe he had let himself get so tied up in the Crawley's twisted world.

In the same way that he had nearly collided with Larry the day before, he found himself running headlong into Sybil.

She tumbled back with a huff, clearly not expecting Matthew to be careening down the corridor. She was still in her pajamas.

"Matthew," Sybil said, "I'm so glad I found you! I think Mary's run off somewhere. Do you know where she's gone?"

Sybil thought he was looking for Mary? That was so absurd. Didn't Sybil understand what had happened? Didn't she understand that the lie was out?

"No, I don't know where Mary is," He said, not hiding the belligerence in his voice.

Sybil looked flustered, not even picking up Matthew's temper.

"Drat, shall we go look for her then? I don't want her going through this alone," Sybil said, worried.

Matthew gritted his teeth. Had she not noticed that this scandal had exploded Matthew's word? Didn't she understand that there was no way they could be on the same team? Not now, not when Mary had used him. Not when the whole family had lied to him. Not when they all had used him for their social gain, leaving his heart to be broken easily.

It made so much sense that his heart would be broken today. It was just like the contract said- four months, till Sybil's wedding, then it was all over. It was all over.

"No, I won't go look for Mary," Matthew grunted.

Sybil looked up from where she was glancing down the hall.

"Why ever not?" Sybil asked, "I'm sure she needs us right now."

He felt the same rage that he'd felt earlier boil to a head.

"Why the hell would I help you- the family that has manipulated me and used to me- look for your sister who spent four months lying to me?" He near shouted at her. "I am just trying to get out of here before I have to see another one of you again."

"Matthew, calm down and have some sense," Sybil snapped back. "You can't possibly think that."

"Are you trying to tell me that my feelings aren't valid? Because I assure you, I could not possibly feel more angry at you all," Matthew spat, "Now, if you don't mind, I'm going to leave this fucking castle before I do anything I would regret."

He pushed passed Sybil and continued down the hall. Just around the corner and down the stairs and to the door. That was all he needed to do to be free.

"Hold up there," Sybil said, grabbing at his arm. "What the hell is going on?"

"What is going on?" He asked, "Is that I have been lied to. I am upset. And I am leaving all of you fucking Crawley's behind and hopefully never see you again."

"Do you honestly not believe that Mary loves you?" Sybil asked, her voice full of confusion.

"Did you read the e-mails? Did you see the reports?" He asked, his anger now replaced with evident hurt, "Sybil, she never loved me."

Sybil raised her hand, and for a moment, Matthew thought she might be comforting him. Then she slapped him soundly across the face.

He winced, pain radiating across his skin.

"What was that for?" Matthew asked.

"To knock some sense into you," Sybil said, "Now, let's get you some ice while you re-evaluate your life decisions."

"I don't need to re-evalutate anything," He snapped.

"Hell yes, you do," Sybil said, dragging his arm "Now come on, off we go."

Mary was nearly asleep when the taxi slowed. She had been lulled by the countryside flickering by, the soft rain battering the window, and the fact that she was still recovering from an illness that made her exhausted.

"Excuse me, miss," The driver said, "But we've arrived."

Mary saw a series of three stone cottages. They were adorable, each with bright, yellow flowers displayed from the windowsills. Marigolds, Mary believed they were called. Even rain soaked, it was a cheerful place.

"Are you sure they were expecting you, miss? It looks like no one is home," The voice replied.

It was true. Charming as this tiny trove of cottages were, there was no one in sight. No car was parked beside them. The curtains were pulled. Maybe no one was here.

The address had only been a guess after all. And she hadn't called ahead. She knew that she would have been refused if she had.

But this was her only hope.

"No, it's fine," She said, "It's an old friend. They'll be right home."

"Right then," the driver said, before giving her the sum. Mary pulled out her card and as promised, paid three times over.

"Will you be needing a ride back?" He asked, extending an business card.

"I don't imagine so," Mary said, taking his business card regardless, "But I'll ring if I do. Thanks."

She got out of the car and began to make her way to the cottage. The driver drove off into the fog, the sound of the tires against wet pavement the last sound her heard before things sunk into silence.

She walked up to the door and knocked. Her heart clenched for a second, anticipating an opening, but there was nothing. The driver had been right, there was no one home.

She knocked again, but she knew that it was for naught. She peaked into a window, there the curtains were open a sliver- seeing a fireplace, soft armchairs, and paintings on the wall. There were cups of tea sitting on side tables and a book lying open. The house was lived in. That was for sure.

Feeling reassured that someone must be coming home soon, she let herself sink onto the stoop. It was wet, but she was surely going to be drenched anyway. There was something cathartic and refreshing about letting the rain thoroughly soak you.

Realizing that she was totally alone, at least for this moment, she let herself give into the emotion that had been threatening her for a while. It arose in huge, gulping sobs.

Matthew didn't believe in her love. He believed Richard Carlisle over her.

And now he was going to leave her. He could hardly look at her. He couldn't trust her.

The man that had guided her to believe that she could finally love again. The man that had made her strong in her weak places, the ones that other men had left broken and unwanted. The man that inspired her to change her entire life, because of the goodness of his heart and his beautiful vision for the world. The man that had allowed her to open her heart again.

He was gone. He didn't trust her or believe her or love her. It was all over.

Mary wondered maybe if the rain sunk in, she would freeze from head to toe, freeze her heart over, till she couldn't feel anymore. That would be easier. It was much easier to be cold, to be frozen- than to be in vulnerable and left to the elements. She had made that mistake with Matthew. She shouldn't have made that mistake with Matthew.

She felt the cold seep in, through her jumper, through her leggings. She felt her underwear soak through. Her bra was sticking to her. Inside her shoes were small puddles. She was happy she'd left Daisy behind, the weather would be dangerous for the small rabbit. A gust of cold air rushed through the yard and sent a chill whirling through her bones. She pulled her knees to her chest, content to suffer in the cold. Maybe if she was truly soaked, she'd finally stop feeling the pain that was vying to wrench her open.

She tugged her knees to her chest, wrapping her arms around her knees, trying to hold herself together. The sobs were still wracking her body.

This wasn't like with Pamuk. He had hurt her, embarrassed her. But she had never truly cared for him. She'd been intrigued by him, attracted to him, sure. But she hadn't ever developed feelings for him.

This wasn't like Tony either. He'd been a holiday fling. While she wanted to believe it was love at the time, Mary knew now it was paper thin, strung together by lies. It was real. While it broke her heart, it wasn't like this.

Mary couldn't imagine a time she'd ever felt worse.

As time passed, her hands began shake, then go numb. Her feet followed not much later. She felt her joints stiffen, pain forming at her hips and knees- exhausted from holding herself together. She kept telling herself that in just a little more time in this rain, in front of this empty cottage, she'd be finally numb through and through. She'd finally stop feeling so terribly broken.

When Mary had surmised that two hours had passed, she began to realize that she must be resigned that no one was coming back soon- or at least that she would have severe hypothermia before anyone did turn up at this godforsaken cottage. She began to accept that her hiding place might not have been the greatest idea ever. She decided she'd have to head back to York. Maybe she could find a non-descript hotel there and wait out the scandal. Then what? God back to Paris and carry on? Surely her plans with Matthew would be ruined. Would they be able to act civilly enough to finish the project? She couldn't leave the artists in Bujumbura without what she promised them.

She fished her phone out of her pocket. Whatever her future held, it wasn't in this cottage in the middle of nowhere. She found a card in her purse for the cab company. One glance at her and the cab driver would probably think she was the stupidest person ever. She probably was.

She pressed her phone on and as expected, it was full of missed calls, texts, and other notifications. Her eye was caught by an e-mail that she hadn't expect to see today.

From: Kings College School of Global Affairs

Subject: Admissions Decision

Without hesitation, she slid the e-mail open.

Dear Ms Crawley,

We are please to inform you of your acceptance into the Master of Science in Emerging Economies and International Development at the International Development Institute house in King's College School of Global Affairs for upcoming term…..

She'd done it. The plan that she'd formed when she returned from Burundi, when she felt her heart tugging her towards learning more about how to work with vulnerable people and countries, when she realized it was the perfect marriage of her world and Matthew's. The interview she'd done secretly in London, just before she'd run into Matthew in Somerset house- It'd been a success.

She had imagined how happy Matthew would be when he saw he heard about her acceptance. She had guarded the secret over the past few weeks because she knew he would be so enthusiastic, that she didn't want to disappoint him if she wasn't accepted. Despite her good grades in undergrad and her well-written essays, she knew that there were a lot of reasons to not accept a Crawley into a program. But she'd done it. She's done it and now Matthew wouldn't be there to know or care. Maybe someone would write an article about her, complete with covert pictures of her at graduate school, and he'd know. Maybe then he'd come back to her, trust her again- No. She couldn't afford to think so hopefully.

She was so lost in her thoughts that she hardly heard the car drive towards the house and into the drive. At first she thought she'd called the cab unthinkingly, but then she looked up to see a large navy car she'd never seen before.

Mary blinked up in surprise.

A door flung open and a little girl traipsed out making for the door.

"Marigold," Called her sister's voice from the drivers seat, "Wait for me. When we get inside, go wash up right away and we can start working on the cookie recipe before your nap."

Mary watched as the small girl trotted over to the door. Mary couldn't figure out who she was exactly. Was Edith a nanny on the side?

She watched her sister climb out of the car, her golden hair hitting her shoulders, dressed in a wooly sweater and scarf. It was like no time had passed since they'd seen each other. Christmas right? Or was it was Christmas of last year? She hoped that she wouldn't be too upset to see her. She was distracted with her phone, not looking up at first. Mary was grateful for that. She all of a sudden felt like she was intruding. It had been selfish to think she could hide at her sister's, especially if she showed up without warning.

The little girl, Marigold, apparently, ran right up to Mary before shouting, "Mama! Someone is here!"

She watched as Edith looked up, her jaw dropping a little at Mary's bedraggled appearance (or maybe just the fact that Mary herself was there). She looked between Mary and the small girl.

"You're Auntie Mary, aren't you?" Marigold asked, "I've seen you on TV before."

Auntie Mary?

All of a sudden Mary knew exactly who this girl was.

Niece. She had a niece. She'd been an aunt all this while and she hadn't even known.

"Honestly, I'm not even sure you deserve this ice," Sybil said, disparagingly as she passed Matthew the small bag, wrapped in a towel.

"What am I supposed to think when I see e-mail evidence splashed across the news that my entire relationship with the woman I thought was the love of my life as been a sham?" Matthew shot, snapping the ice up from her hands. "Why are you so easy to dismiss this as merely fake celebrity gossip? I, for one, am having such a hard time differentiating between what is supposed fake and real."

"Ugh," Sybil groaned, sitting across from him on a sofa in the lobby, "For an Oxford educated man with a law degree from Columbia- you'd think that you wouldn't be so dim."

"For someone who has always had the greatest things in my life taken from me," Matthew said, a rare bit of menace in his voice, "Forgive me if I'm a little skeptical."

Sybil rolled her eyes, unable to deal with Man-Child behavior.

"You clearly don't understand why I'm angry, so let me be very explicit," His voice was razor sharp now. Sybil hadn't thought that gentle Matthew would be capable of anger like this, "I entered into the fake relationship with Mary knowing that it was fake, but I quickly started to have feelings for her and it seemed that she had feelings for me. So when we finally, finally agreed to give our feeling a chance, that morning in Cannes- I thought we were both being real with each other. But these e-mails, they throw all of that into suspicion. Those e-mails were sent during the time we were supposedly developing feelings for each other. They said things like 'Make him fall in love with you.' Don't you see? She's just been manipulating my feelings so that it would look like we are in love, so I'd have genuine feelings for her that would look good on magazine covers. But her feelings have just been an act, an order from Robert Crawley CEO. She's been lying the whole time. I'm just another Crawley pawn."

Sybil leaned forward, forcing him to make eye contact with her, "Listen to me very carefully. I'm closer with Mary than anyone else is, apart from maybe Anna. I know my sister. I saw her go through all of it- Carlisle, Pamuk, Tony- all of that crap. What she had with any other man is nothing like what she's had with you. She loves you."

"How do you know?" He challenged.

"Because she told me. She called me right after Cannes and told me that you both admitted to having feelings for each other," Sybil explained.

"So?" Matthew said, "One of the e-mails was sent the same morning we started formally dating in Cannes. It could have just been part of a plan to make me fall for her. Maybe she was just saying that to you to make it sound like we were in love. Maybe she knew that you'd believe her. Maybe she just wanted-"

Then his voice broke, the raw emotion leaking through.

It clicked for Sybil. Matthew wasn't angry, as much as he was painfully heartbroken.

She got up from the couch to sit beside Matthew. She wrapped her arm around him. Up close, she could see unshed tears in his eyes.

"Matthew," She said, "Listen. I know my sister. I know Mary. She loves you. She really loves you."

"But, I saw the," He tried to begin, his voice catching again, muttering the same nonsense he'd been blubbering on with, "I saw the e-mails. 'Make him fall in love with you.' She was tricking me. You were all using me."

"That's not true," Sybil said, keeping her voice level and sensible, "We all quite like you. We are all happy to have you as part of our family. Mary was glad to have you part of her family."

There were footsteps approaching. Sybil stiffened, hoping it was her father. They weren't ready to deal with that yet.

Anna slowly entered the lobby.

"There you are," Anna said, "Do you know where Mary is? I thought I should check on her."

Sybil shook her head. "No, sorry, I've been too busy dealing with this situation."

She gestured at Matthew.

"Matthew?" Anna asked, joining them on the sofa, "Whatever is wrong?"

"He's believed the story Carlisle spun, the e-mails, the stupid rumors," Sybil filled her in.

"You don't believe that Mary loves you?" Anna asked.

Matthew shook his head slowly. Sybil could tell he was trying to hold it together.

"Oh you silly man," Anna laughed, "I've never seen that woman so enamored as she is with you. And she hasn't been faking it. I've seen Mary fake things before. I've seen her go on dates that she doesn't really care about. That's nothing like how she is with you."

"Really?" Matthew asked, looking up.

"Surely," Anna said, "And if you don't believe me, just look through all the texts she's sent me on my phone."

She passed him the phone, but his hand was shaking too badly to look through it properly.

"I'm sure Sybil's said this," Anna continued, "But we've never seen Mary like she was with you. She's always careful, cold. She's guarded. But with you, she was so radiant. She was so excited."

Matthew gulped.

"You see," He said, "It's easier not believe you. It's easier to just turn around and leave for New York and not look back. It's easier because if I do that- I don't have to live with the fact that I think I just ruined everything. I lost Lavinia. I can't lose Mary."

"Oh no," Sybil said, "You owe it to Mary to fix this. You don't get off easy here. Trust us, we'll help you. You don't get to ruin everything."

"Mary?" Edith asked.

Mary looked between her sister and her niece, trying to find the words to explain herself, but they were caught in her throat. She was an aunt.

Her sister had a child, a nearly school-aged child, and she hadn't even known. Who knew about this little girl? Who was her father?

She thought of her own sister raising a child in the middle of nowhere. She thought of her changing nappies, fixing bottles, staying up late nights- all by herself. The family had missed birthdays and first steps and first days of school. In the time that Mary had been going to parties, doodling handbags, racking up scandals- her sister had been raising a child. How had this been allowed to happen?

Mary lifted her eyes to her sister, "I'm sorry for showing up here. I just needed to escape for a little bit. This seemed like a good hiding place. I can go. I'm really sorry. I shouldn't have just shown up-"

"Nonsense," Edith said, "You're family. We're family. We're not very good at this, but I like to think that sometimes we can take care of each other."

Mary nodded slowly, her eyes glassy.

"My name is Marigold," The small girl told her, "Just like the flowers."

Mary focused her attention on the small girl in front of her who was pointing a small finger towards the flowers blooming in the windowsill. She had strawberry blond curls, not unlike the one's Edith had had as a child. She had large blue eyes, inquisitive and innocent. She was dressed in a dress, a wool cardigan, and the most adorable child-sized wellies.

"And how old are you Marigold?" Mary asked.

"This many," Marigold said, showing her four fingers. "But nearly 5."

"Nearly 5," Mary said, "How very grown up!"

Marigold giggled and stood a little taller.

"I'm very glad to meet you, Marigold," Mary said, sincerely, lifting her eyes to meet Edith's.

"You must be very cold," Edith said, "And damp."

Mary realized that they'd all been frozen in place since they encountered each other. Mary stood up, her body stiff and shaking still from the cold.

"How long have you been out here?" Edith asked.

"Nearly two hours," Mary admitted.

"Two hours?" Edith said, walking up to door and digging her purse for keys, "Mary, you're going to be sick."

"I mean, I'm getting over mono, so it can't get much worse right?" Mary offered.

Edith pulled the key out of her bag and stuck it in the door, "So you actually were sick? I knew it. There was no way that you were pregnant. Believe me, our father wouldn't have let that stand."

Mary studied her sister, wondering if her father's hand was involved in the fact that she'd hardly seen her in the last five years.

"I'll explain later," Edith supplied, when she saw Mary trying to connect the dots, "After you've had a hot shower and soup." Then she looked at Marigold fondly and said, "And after this one has gone for a nap."

Mary followed Edith into the cottage. It had an open floor plan, the modern amenities showing that it had been extensively renovated from whatever rural cottage it had once been. There was a sophisticated kitchen with cream-colored cabinets and tiled walls. It gave way to a living area, where some large armchairs and a sofa were situated around a fireplace.

"This cottage was renovated just before I moved here," Edith explained, "Then I've redone one of them, the smallest, into a writing office for myself, so I have a place to write that's separate from the house. The third is for guests, not that I have any often. Sybil used to stay there when she'd visit- but she's been too busy with school to visit recently."

"Sybil knows about Marigold?' Mary asked, looking down at the small girl who had set off to play with a few dolls in the corner.

Mary felt stung that no one had bothered to tell her that her sister had a baby. Had no one thought that she would care? Had no one thought that she would want to know her niece?

"Forgive me for not telling you," Edith said, "We've never been to close. You know that. According to father, the secret needed to stay between as few people as possible. None of my friends from Princeton know. Or really anyone outside of our parents and Sybil."

Mary wanted to feel angry or upset. When they were girls, they had been rivals of sorts, always competing for their parents' attention. They were the type to steal each others' secrets for blackmail. They were never any sort of model of a loving sister relationship. Mary could understand why her sister wouldn't tell her a secret so big.

However, it made their rivalry seem petty. Why distance yourself from family who were struggling? Mary wanted to do better by Edith.

"Well," Mary said, finally, "Like you said, we're family. Even if we haven't in the passed, let's try to make a go at taking care of each other now."

Edith gave her a hesitant smile, before turning to Marigold, "Let me go fix Auntie Mary some things for a hot shower, then we can make those cookies before your nap?"

"Cookies for Aunt Mary?" Marigold asked, excitedly.

"I don't know," Edith said laughing softly, "Should we share with her?"

"Yes!" Marigold exclaimed.

Mary suppressed a giggle, as she followed Edith into the hallway and to what seemed to be Edith's bedroom. Her sister rummaged through her wardrobe and handed her a wooly jumper and a pair of leggings.

"They might not fit perfectly. I gained a bit of weight with the pregnancy and I've been able to get rid of it," Edith explained, "But they should be stretchy enough to work."

"No, it's brilliant," Mary said, "Anything warm is good for me."

"The shower is right in here," Edith said, directing her to the en-suite, "Use towels, soap, shampoo- whatever you like."

"Thank you," Mary said, already excited to not be shivering, "Truly, you're being more kind than I deserve."

"Nonsense," Edith said, "I think we Crawleys have a distorted concept of what we deserve."

Mary tried to hold that in her head, as she shut the door and the stripped away her wet clothes. She turned on the shower and cranked it up all the way. She stepped under its spray, feeling the scalding water push the chill out of her body. Her feet felt like pins and needles as the feeling came back into them. She tried not to think of that time, two weekends ago when she and Matthew had climbed into the shower together in his apartment in New York, complete with hot water and fierce passion.

As much as she wanted to use the discovery of Marigold and Edith's secret life as a distraction, the moment they disappeared she felt the pain of Matthew's rejecting tearing at her heart.

Rubbing shampoo into her hair, she tried to imagine where he was now. Maybe he was at the hotel, regretting the words that hurt her- but no. She couldn't let herself dare to hope that. He was probably back on the soonest flight to New York. He'd be back in his apartment in Murray Hill by this evening. Tomorrow he'd be dressing in suit, heading the UN, carrying on as if he had never touched her heart.

She remembered when she had been afraid that his reputation would be ruined if she spent too much time with him. She'd done that alright. His reputation would be a mess from now on. She wondered if he'd find love again. Maybe there would be a high profile interview with him that would propel him into being some sort of sweetheart cruelly tricked by Mary's wiles. Maybe he'd have loads of women chasing after him. With his crooked smiles and bright blue eyes, this wasn't hard to imagine.

As the last bit of shampoo slipped down the drain, Mary stood vulnerable under the water- the worst thoughts hitting her. He was only supposed to date her until Sybil's wedding. Now that the wedding was over, maybe it only made sense that he would be leaving now. Maybe he was leaving now because the deal was over. What if he was planning it all along? What if was using her all along? What if this scandal was just an easier way to deal with it than breaking up with her? It was always easier to blame someone else. What if he had never loved her at all?

"Well the hardest part is going to be getting you out of here," Sybil decided, "The place is surrounded with paps. They'll eat your alive. We need to sneak you out."

"Wait," Matthew said, still trying to keep up, "Where am I going?"

"Well, Mary texted me an hour ago asking for Edith's address," Sybil said, "I think she is trying to wait out the scandal at her place."

"Which is in Yorkshire?" Matthew asked.

"Exactly, like middle of nowhere Yorkshire," Sybil explained, "It's quiet far from here. She was clever to take the heli there."

"What can we do to get him out then?" Anna asked.

"We'll have to sneak you out somehow and put you on a train before anyone spots you," Sybil said.

"But how do we do that?" Anna asked.

"I could pose as a distraction?" Sybil suggested, "I could go out and say that I want to speak about the scandal with Larry."

"No, the press would have a field day with that," Matthew pointed out, "It's not worth it."

"What if we order pizza?" Anna suggested.

"What?" Sybil said, "We've got loads to do to figure this. And it's like 10AM."

"No, honestly," Anna said, "Stick with me on this. We order pizza. We tell them to use the back entrance. We pay him an absorbent amount, then stick Matthew in the trunk and he sneaks him out and to the train station. Even if he snitches, Matthew will be out town before the paps get word."

"Anna, that sounds like the plot of a teen movie," Sybil said, laughing.

"It might work," Matthew said, "And honestly, what do we have to lose."

Thanks for reading! This chapter got split into to 2 parts because it was SO long, so the action will continue into the next chapter.