"I think you need to consider that this could have been a lot worse. You have been released on bail. Child Protective agreed to place Serena with your sister and Alan; thank heavens that home study they had to do to adopt Emily hadn't expired yet," Lee Baldwin told his son.

"I think you're missing the point that I didn't do any of this," Scott Baldwin fumed.

"Of course not, we will get that resolved too. I just can't understand why Tiffany would make all of this up. Her grandmother, Estelle, was one of your mother's best friends. Gail and I were invited to her parents wedding at the country club years ago. They got married the year before you and Laura did."

"People lie, there isn't always a great reason," Scott said simply. His years as a prosecutor had made that very clear.

XXXXXXXX

In the West Wing of the Chandler Mansion, JR Chandler shot his way through another game of Ace Combat 2 and tried to forget the look of indifferent disappointment his father had given him when he had arrived at the hospital. His Uncle Stuart had quickly swooped in and explained that his stepmother, Liza, had already been taken back to the OR so perhaps they should go get some lunch. Hayley had joined them so they had gone to the restaurant she and her new husband, Mateo Santos, owned; Holidays. Neither had said anything when he had ordered pancakes at one in the afternoon. Hayley had chattered away about the restaurant as they ate. After lunch, Stuart had offered to take him back to the hospital but he had claimed he had a lot of homework to get started on. The last part was probably a true statement, especially since he had skipped school entirely on Friday. Unfortunately, he just didn't see the point. It wasn't like anyone would notice, or care, if he failed every single class.

XXXXXXXX

Dr. Monica Quartermaine descended the kitchen stairs after putting her daughter and niece to bed. Their bedtime routine had gone smoothly. After brushing teeth and two stories both girls had quickly drifted off to sleep without protest. But as Monica had watched Serena sleep, cuddled up with the rabbit Dominique had chosen for her years ago, on the trundle bed in Katelyn's room, she had dreaded what would come next. In the morning they would have to explain something to Serena about the events which had led to the impromptu slumber party. Normally Monica was a firm believer in giving kids the truth even if it was messy and giving them the support and tools to deal with that truth. The only problem was that she wasn't completely sure what the truth was. Her father had briefly and tersely explained what her brother had been accused of. He had vehemently asserted that Scott wouldn't have, couldn't have done any of that. In her heart Monica had to believe that. But, also in her heart, as a rape survivor herself, she couldn't completely discount the word of another presumptive victim, especially one who was only a few years older than her elder daughters.

When she stepped into her kitchen, Monica saw that her husband had apparently finished loading the dishwasher and was busily wiping their expanse of granite countertops. "Did AJ drop Emily and Allison off at jazz band rehearsal on his way to pick up Keesha?" she asked.

Alan laid the sponge behind the double sink faucet and reached for the cloth to buff the counters. "Yes, they should be done around nine. I was planning on picking them up. Kirk and Dylan are downstairs watching a movie. They understand that bedtime is still nine o'clock."

Kirk had felt left out since Katelyn was getting to have Serena sleep over so they had allowed Kirk to invite Dylan. It was easier than attempting to explain the unexplainable. At least for her.

Monica searched for words to convey to her husband how much she appreciated him, for not questioning when her father had called and asked if they could take Serena, for cleaning the kitchen, for a million other things. But there really weren't words so she just laid a hand over his and leaned in.

XXXXXXXX

Brenda Barrett turned another page in her statistics textbook. At the rate she was going she might be ready for the exam next month, unfortunately, her exam was Tuesday. She shook her head and took a deep breath. For some reason she thought of her older sister, Julia. From Julia's perspective, especially since she was only taking a single course during fall semester, there was no excuse for anything less than an A. Brenda was quite certain that wouldn't be happening.

The sound of her cell phone pulled Brenda from p values and she reached for her phone and flipped it open with one hand. "Hello…"

Her greeting was met with near silence. She could hear faint barely audible breathing but no words. "Hello," she repeated. She waited a few more moments, then she closed her phone and tried to push the whole incident out of her mind. The call was not a new thing. She had received the first one on what should have been her wedding night. At the time she had wondered if, or maybe just hoped that, the call was from Sonny and he had lost his nerve to speak. But later, when she processed everything through a more logical and less emotional framework; she realized that Sonny wouldn't do that because the whole point of refusing to marry her was to distance her from him for her safety. He wouldn't take a chance on the phone line being traced or tapped.

XXXXXXXX

Dr. Monica Quartermaine went to open the door before her father in law had a chance to complain about the indignity of anyone other than a household servant answering the door. It was a common refrain. Yet, somehow, Edward had survived, albeit with much grumbling, seventeen years without servants. He and Lila had moved in to "help" the summer she had started her Cardiology fellowship.

On the other side of the door Monica found her mother.

"Your brother put together some extra clothes and books for Serena. We decided it was best if I delivered them," Dr. Gail Baldwin said.

"Thank you. Would you like to come in?" Monica

Gail nodded silently and stepped into the formal Quartermaine foyer with a small suitcase which she set down just beyond the door on the settee.

"Would you like some tea? I just put some water water on."

"Yes, that would be nice," Gail said but she sounded uncertain as she followed her daughter down the East Hallway past the living room, dining room, a powder room and the butler's pantry that offered another entry into the kitchen.

Monica reached to turn off the cooktop and then poured hot water over the tea ball already in the tea pot. "Why don't we go into the solarium, it's a more comfortable place to sit," she suggested.

As she laid the tea tray down on the coffee table, Monica couldn't shake how awkward everything felt which was so atypical in her relationship with her mother. They both went through the motions of adding lemon and sugar to their chamomile tea and then sat in silence for a moment.

Gail broke the silence. "Your father also arranged with the caseworker for Scott to have a supervised goodbye visit with Serena tomorrow after church," she said.

Monica wasn't sure that was a good idea. Of course, she wasn't sure of much so she just nodded silently and then took a sip of her tea.

"Honey, I don't think there is any easy way to say this. Your father and I know this is a difficult time for you. Your brother hated to even ask that you take on anything else but he is very grateful you and Alan are able to do this for Serena. I just want you to know that if there is anything we can do to lighten your load we want to do that."

"I know. Serena is our niece, we need to be there for her. You're right the timing is horrible, but is there really a good time to be falsely accused of rape? Let's just hope this gets resolved relatively quickly for everyone's sake but especially Serena's."