Warning: The section at the end is a little graphic/disturbing. There's also some mentions of true crime events.

Chapter Twelve:
The Calm Before

"Right here, right now, I want you to forget two things: he was nothing special, and what happened was not random.." - Jessica Knoll, Bright Young Women

MAY 6TH 2022

1430 LOCAL
BRUMBY-ARTHUR RESIDENCE
SYDNEY, AUSTRALIA

AJ entered the light pink and floral printed world of Ellie's bedroom to find her facing away from the door. She had one arm braced against her dresser, and her other hand was holding one leg up in the air in a vertical line.

"Hey babe, can I talk to you about something really important -" AJ paused. "What are you doing?"

Ellie looked at him over her shoulder. "I'm stiff from last night."

AJ blinked at her. "From what last night"

"You were completely hogging the bed," Ellie replied as she lowered her leg. "I had to scrunch up in the corner. I'm stiff."

"Oh."

She turned around, her brow furrowing in concern. "What's wrong?"

AJ watched her for a few seconds, unknowingly balling and un-balling his fists at his sides - a nervous habit he'd had since childhood.

"Did you know?"

"Did I know what?"

"That our parents know each other."

FIVE MINUTES LATER

"Here, you wait here and I'll - I need to talk to my parents."

Ellie placed a small pile of stuffed animals from her bed in AJ's lap as a means to keep him anchored to the spot before she turned around and quickly exited the room. When she told AJ that she needed to talk to her parents - she really meant her father.

She found Mic in the den, which had once upon a time been his at-home office. He was in there watching golf, because that was the only room in the house where he could watch golf without Gillian or Ellie asking him to put something else on.

"Hi," Ellie knocked on the doorframe. "Can I talk to you about something?"

Mic looked up, reluctantly reaching for the remote to press mute. "Sure love, what is it?"

Ellie walked into the den, sitting on the edge of Mic's desk. She brought one knee up, hugging it to her chest. "I think AJ is losing his mind."

He couldn't help it - Mic's expression brightened. "Oh really, that's great - I mean, oh no! What's…wrong? Is something wrong?"

Usually Ellie went to Gillian with any boy problems she had, not because Mic wouldn't listen to her talk about boys, but because in lieu of any actual advice, he would always just tell her to break up with them.

Ellie narrowed her eyes, looking at Mic like she knew something he didn't.

"Or…." she tucked a stray curl behind her ear. "You've been keeping something from me."

Mic realized that Ellie actually knew something she wasn't supposed to know. He felt trapped in a corner, like when she was four and asked if Santa Claus was actually real, or when she was seven and asked where babies actually came from, or when she was thirteen and asked why she went to Catholic school if they never went to mass. Only this time Mic couldn't tell her to go ask her mother (not that that ever worked anyway).

Mic sighed. "How did you find out?"

"AJ's cousin told him everything, and he-"

"He told you."

"Exactly," Ellie lowered her leg and folded her arms over her chest. Mic should've known better - there was no way his and Gillian's plan would be exactly fool proof. They were two lawyers plotting against someone who was raised by lawyers. "So I would really like to know -"

"Wait, which cousin told you?"

"How long have you been keeping this from and when exactly were you planning on telling me-"

"Which cousin told you?"

"Because this is kind of an important thing for me to know, don't you think-"

"Which cousin, Ellie?"

She blinked at him and shrugged. "I don't know. The one who's mom is the woman who you were engaged to. Claire or something, I don't know her name. Why?"

"Oh nothing. I just had a feeling it would be that one."

"Anyways, that's not important. What's important is that you and Mummy have been lying to me for - for how long?"

"How long?" Mic reclined back in his chair in thought. It had been about a month, but that sounded worse than it needed to, so instead Mic said:

"About three weeks."

"So a month?"

"No, three weeks."

"Three weeks is a month!"

"Most months are four weeks, actually."

Ellie stood up in a huff and stormed out of the den. Mic listened to her feet retreat towards the back deck, where she would no doubt be going to relay their conversation to Gillian and have a similar confrontation with her. As Mic turned back to look at the muted golfers on the television screen, wondering if the dinner they had planned for that night was still on. Underneath the TV was a physical calendar that still got replaced every year even though it never got used. There was something about today's date, May 6th, that he couldn't get out of his mind.

With a sinking feeling, he realized what it was. Today was Sarah Mackenzie's birthday.

1830 EST
MACKENZIE-RABB RESIDENCE
FAIRFAX, VIRGINIA

Even though her party wasn't until the following evening, Harm was taking Mac out for an exclusive, parents-only birthday dinner that night to celebrate her birthday on the actual date. That meant their three children had the house to themselves, something that would usually end in disaster if they didn't have the task of preparing for their mother's birthday to keep themselves occupied.

Being the oldest meant that Clara automatically became in charge of any parent-centered holidays. Since middle school she'd made sure no father's day, mother's day, or birthday card went unsigned, and that each parent had presents for those holidays, as well as Christmas. It wasn't necessarily a task she enjoyed, but one that she handled with pride and a mild enthusiasm - after all, it was an excuse to micromanage her younger siblings.

"Here," she walked over to Adam, placing a card she bought from CVS on the way home from the diner on the counter in front of him. "You write the card."

He looked up at her with wide brown eyes. For some reason he was eating a bowl of cereal at 6pm, but Clara decided not to question it. That wasn't her jurisdiction. "Why am I writing the card? You know I have the worst handwriting."

"Because Lily's wrapping the present and you're worse at wrapping than you are at writing. She's also doing the cake writing, and that's more important than the writing on the card."

"What should I say? Also I need a pen-"

"Here," Clara took the pen she had tucked behind her ear and handed it to him. "That's the pen I use at the diner, so give it back."

"Okay, okay, I will," Adam clicked the pen and opened the card. "But what should I say?"

"Let's see," Clara opened a cabinet in the kitchen, not quite sure what she was looking for. There was something missing, she just didn't know what. From her back pocket, her cell phone buzzed. She pulled it out to see another text from AJ. She stuffed her phone back into her pocket - whatever disaster she'd started down under would have to wait. There was something she was forgetting.

"Just say Dear Mom, Happy Birthday. We all love you so much and hope this is the best day ever! Love, Your Children, and then we'll all sign it. How does that sound?"

"Okay….could you repeat that a little slower?"

"It's like two sentences, you can remember that-"

Lily emerged from the dining room, a tube of lavender icing in one hand. Her hair was still pinned up from ballet practice. "Where's the cake?" she asked.

Clara turned away from the cabinet. Adam lifted his head up from the card, where he had managed to carve out of the D-E-A in Dear Mom.

"What do you mean?" Clara asked. "It should be in the refrigerator in the garage?"

Lily shook her head. "It's not there."

After checking for herself to see that the cake was indeed not in the refrigerator in the garage like it was supposed to be, Clara found herself faced with a predicament. A major one. "I thought Dad was supposed to go get it this morning," she said as she returned to the kitchen.

"He was, but then something came up last minute and he asked you to," Adam said.

Clara wrinkled her nose. "No he didn't."

"Yeah he did," Lily nodded in agreement. "You just had your headphones in and did that thing where you act like you're listening and you just said yeah, and then left for your run."

With a sinking feeling, Clara realized that they were both right. The memory of that interaction came flooding back to her - well, at least the part where she said yeah and left for her run did.

She turned to look at the microwave clock. "The Wegmans bakery should still be open, right?"

Adam shrugged. "I don't know, I guess?"

"Okay, hold on," Clara grabbed her lanyard and keys, which were on the counter next to the vase of flowers. "I'll be right back, just don't kill each other while I'm gone-"

As if she didn't already have enough going on, the doorbell rang.

"Do you want me to get it?" Adam asked. "You can sneak out of the garage door."

"No, it's fine," Clara huffed as she yanked the front door open. "It's probably something stupid - Oh. Hi, Finn."

Finn was standing there - surprisingly not in uniform. This fact was only surprising to Clara because she had never seen Finn out of uniform before. He was wearing jeans and a faded Capitals t-shirt that looked like it had been through the wash one too many times. All of a sudden he looked like a real person and not just someone who existed in her dad's Navy world. It was like she was seeing him for the very first time.

Whatever newfound feelings Clara had were quickly brushed aside. She had a birthday cake to get before the bakery closed.

However, she couldn't help but look down. In Finn's hands was a present, neatly wrapped in silver wrapping paper.

"Hey Clara," he held the present out to her. "It's for your mom."

She slowly took the present. "My mom?" she raised an eyebrow. "Umm…thank you? You really didn't have to-"

"I didn't," he replied quickly. "It's - well, the Admiral - Harm -"

"My dad."

"Your dad. He picked it out, I just ordered it and picked it up and wrapped and now…I'm dropping it off."

Clara turned the parcel over in her hands. "Wow…" she looked up at him. "You wrapped this yourself? This is….this is really good, wow."

"Thanks," Finn replied. "It's a long story but my grandma - anyway, while we're both here I was wondering…well, I found out from the SecNav that the Surface Warfare Officers Ball is happening at the end of June and I was wondering - well, I know you think all this Navy stuff is boring, but - would you be okay with being my date for it?"

Clara's eyebrows shot up. The grip she had on the present tightened so she wouldn't drop it. "Would I mind?"

"No because I completely understand if you're busy or if you don't want-"

"I mean I'll have to check my calendar, but I can probably call out of work if I have to," Clara offered a small smile. All the while her mind was racing. What is going on? "But yeah, I'll go to Navy prom with you, Finn."

"It's not really a prom, it's actually a pretty important Navy tradition - but, you know what, that's not important."

Clara's brow furrowed. "My dad's going to be there, right?"

"He should be. He just doesn't know about it yet because the SecNav just called about it this afternoon and your dad was already out of office."

"Right yeah," Clara briefly glanced down at the impressively wrapped present in her hands before looking back up at Finn. This is crazy, she thought, this is absolute insanity. "I don't think our first date should be with my dad in the same room. Why don't we grab…coffee…or pizza…or something sometime before then?"

Finn's eyes widened, and Clara was shocked at herself for finding it endearing all of a sudden. "Oh I didn't know - a date? Are you asking me out?"

She laughed. "Didn't you just ask me out?"

"Well I didn't to assume it was a date if you didn't want it to be-"

"Oh my god, Finn, do you want it to be a date?"

"Yes, I do."

The conversation only got more awkward from there.

"Then great - we'll get food or something sometime."

"Right. Yeah. Sure that's - that's great. Do you want my number?"

After an awkward few moments of typing their numbers into each other's phones, Clara didn't wait for Finn to reach the sidewalk and climb back into his used Honda. She retreated back into the house to the kitchen, where she was met with the wide eyed gaze of Adam and Lily.

"What was that about?" Adam asked.

"Who was he?" Lily asked.

"It's nothing," Clara sat the present on the kitchen counter, feeling a blush rise to her cheeks. "Just hide that so Mom doesn't see it. I need to go to the grocery store."

THIRTY MINUTES LATER

After picking up the second cake she laid her eyes on that looked like it would do the trick for the amount of people coming to the party tomorrow, Clara took her shopping cart around the aisles of Wegmans, trying to see if there was anything else she needed. Even though she was fortunate enough to be an adult (at least in the legal sense) and still have her parents provide for the majority of her needs (with the pretense that she remained in school and got decent grades), Clara still felt the need to take care of herself, at least when it came to some things.

Hey, sorry for making you pay for rehab - I can buy my own fancy snacks, coffee, and period products. I'll take that burden off your shoulders.

Some of the things in Clara's bedroom were remnants of her year of living in a college dorm - something she did not out of locational necessity because her college was twenty minutes away from her home, but out of a preservation for her sanity. One of those things included a simple wheeled shelf from Target, where Clara kept the snacks and drinks she bought for herself - partly to keep them from her siblings, also to show to herself she was capable of some kind of autonomy without self destruction.

Ahead of Clara in the snack aisle were a pair of girls who made her feel like she was looking into a murky mirror. They were wearing matching Volleyball jerseys with sweatpants, hair twisted up in intricate braids with strands of glitter woven in. They were no doubt on their way to an away game - or maybe senior night, it was about that time of year.

Clara would have a matching, if not slightly outdated, uniform buried somewhere in the bottom of her closet, and she remembered how much of a pain in the ass those glitter strands were to braid into your hair. She never got a senior night, though - partly because of the pandemic, but not really. Clara's volleyball career, which was not remarkable but still pretty damn good, was cut short halfway through her junior year, because narcotics abuse didn't mix well with being a varsity athlete. She had been able to manage things pretty well when she was just smoking weed and drinking on the weekends, but then things quickly got out of hand, as things usually have a way of going.

She was so focused on which flavor of popcorn she wanted for that week and the two girls at the other end of the aisle that she didn't notice another blast from her past walking down the aisle towards her - ironically someone also related to her volleyball career.

"Hey, you."

Clara looked up from the popcorn. Her eyes widened, and suddenly in the pit of her stomach was a mix of feelings she couldn't quite decipher.

"Oh, hey Zach," Clara, looking around for an escape, or for a reason why this could be happening.

Zach smirked. He looked just as Clara remembered, only a few years older, because that was about how long it had been since they had last seen each other. Despite it being that long, Clara suddenly felt like she was sixteen again.

"What are you doing here?" Clara asked, realizing it as soon as she asked what a dumb question it was. It was Wegmans. There were only so many things you could be doing in a Wegmans.

Zach nodded down to Clara's cart. "The same thing you're doing," he replied. "Who's the cake for?"

"My mom."

"Oh no way. Tell her I said hi."

"She wouldn't want to hear from you," Clara replied instantly, the phrase slipping out before she could stop herself.

"Come on," Zach laughed. "She can't still be upset about that, can she?"

You were the main source of me getting drugs in high school, I guarantee you she's still upset about it.

Clara forced a smile. She really just wanted to leave - the fancy snacks could wait. "Well she's not happy about it."

Zach raised his hands up in mock surrender. "Hey, listen, I get it," he said, and the memory of that habitual deflection came rushing back to her. "But I'm clean now, would she be happy to hear that?"

Clara shrugged. "Yeah, that's good. Happy for you."

"Finally joined you on the other side."

"Yeah ... so, what have you been up to?"

"Oh, I don't know. Traveling around, doing whatever. Spent some time in New York, then Boston. Tried to start a band, but that didn't really work out."

Clara had to fight back a snort. Of course you tried to start a band, she thought, fucking loser.

"What about you?" he asked. "What have you been up to?"

"You know, going to college, waitressing on the side, still living with my parents. The American Dream."

Zach laughed. "Yeah, yeah, that's great. Do you still talk to my sister at all?"

Obviously you don't. "No not really," Clara answered slowly. "We kind of lost touch after the whole addiction and rehab thing."

"Oh damn, really?"

"Yeah, really."

Zach Boyle entered Clara Mackenzie-Rabb's life by way of his younger sister, Paige Boyle. Paige and Clara had been best friends during a time in Clara's life that she liked to refer to as the before times. They were both on the volleyball team and shared a similar talented trajectory. They were both the only eighth graders who made the high school JV team and the only sophomores who made the varsity team. It was also a running joke between their parents and the other members on the team that they were hard to tell apart on the court - if you didn't know their jersey numbers, you probably couldn't. They were both tall with long brown hair they wore in almost identical high ponytails. As much as she denied the resemblance before, Clara could admit now with hindsight that it had been uncanny.

Her interactions with Zach started out brief. He was the typical older brother who was four years older than them; casually hanging around the house sometimes when Clara came over, occasionally picking them up from practice, and things like that. But one night, Clara found herself at a college party that Zach also happened to be at, and soon enough she found herself going to a lot of college parties. Her parents both thought she was with her older cousin, which wasn't exactly a lie. She and AJ were at a lot of those parties together, but did he know what she was doing? Probably not.

Clara wasn't sure if she had a crush on Zach back then or what they had going on, but she wasn't sure about a lot of things that had happened during that era of her life. All she knew was that she didn't talk to Paige anymore. She'd sent her a polite but distant Hope you get better soon! card while Clara was in rehab, and that was that. Paige was now at Vanderbilt on a volleyball scholarship, living some version of the life Clara had once imagined for herself.

Clara had also been certain she'd never see Zach again.

"Hey, so would you wanna catch up sometime?" Zach asked suddenly, and Clara found it hard to believe she was going through the exact same situation twice in one hour, with two guys who couldn't be more opposite from each other. "Maybe grab dinner?"

Clara watched him for a few moments, her tongue curling against the roof of her mouth to say the word 'no,' but she found herself pulling out her phone against her better judgment.

"Just dinner?" she asked, preparing to hastily stuff her phone back into her pocket.

Zach put his hands up again. "Just dinner, I promise."

She supposed it would be interesting, at least. Something she could laugh about later, probably. At least he's sober now, Clara thought as she typed her number into his phone.

1945 LOCAL
THE MALAYA
SYDNEY, AUSTRALIA

Gillian picked out the restaurant. Mic would've preferred something a little less touristy, but the view from the boardwalk was nice. He also had to remind himself that AJ had been here only a few months, and was still classified as a tourist, at least partially.

Mic was also the designated driver for the evening, so he was painfully, abysmally sober for one of the most awkward dinners he'd ever been to.

Everything came to light that afternoon, which was inevitable but Mic would've appreciated having a little more control over the situation. Now everyone knew everything, which made things a lot less confusing and way more awkward.

They'd all sat down in the living room that afternoon, Gilian taking on the role of a pseudo-moderator, though she herself was not completely innocent in the situation. The main vein of conflict was, unsurprisingly, between Mic and Ellie. Gillian tried her best to let Mic explain himself and keep Ellie from storming out of the room, with AJ just sitting there with a deer-in-the-headlights expression that reminded Mic way too much of Bud.

But yes, now everyone knew everything. AJ now knew that the random Australian guy that he had the vaguest, most minimal memory of was the father of his girlfriend, Ellie now knew that her father was absent from her life for the first two years of her life (unknowingly so, but still absent nonetheless) because he almost married her boyfriend's aunt.

Now, the man of the hour was prepared to cover everyone's dinner as an apology, completely regretting a fair amount of his life decisions up until that point.

Oh, and everyone now also knew about Mic and Gillian's little 'vacation' coming up, which went over about as well as you'd imagine.

While Ellie and AJ were preoccupied with their own conversation, Gillian placed a hand on Mic's arm and leaned over. "Are you sure you don't want something?" she murmured. "I can drive home."

"No," Mic shook his head. "I deserve to sit through this sober."

Occasionally, throughout the dinner, Gillian would try her best to steer the conversation in a more positive direction.

"So, AJ, have you ever been to New York?" she asked.

"I've been a couple of times."

"Oh fun. Ellie went to NYU."

"Yeah, we've talked about it a few times."

At the mention of her name, Ellie perked up. AJ and Gillian turned to look at her expectantly, waiting to see if she had anything to share about that era in her life. Instead, Ellie locked eyes with Mic.

"I really find it funny that you were there the day he was born," she gestured to AJ. "but you weren't there when I was born."

AJ and Mic both winced.

"Maybe you shouldn't phrase it like that," AJ said. "It's really weird when you phrase it like that."

Gillian sighed, sitting her fork down. "Technically, your father not being there is my fault for not telling him. I take responsibility for that part."

"Thank you, Gillian."

AJ's eyes widened at Mic. "Oh so you-you didn't know about her, okay…" he sat back in his chair. "That makes more sense, because I was wondering how-"

Mic shrugged. "It was a long time ago."

"Not that long ago," Ellie replied. "I'm only twenty-three."

"And we worked through all of this when you were twelve," Gillian interjected.

Ellie's mouth dropped open. "I have a right-"

Gillian gave AJ an apologetic smile. "Sorry," she said. "Family drama, you know how it is."

AJ looked at the three of them. He gave a nervous laugh. "Glad you guys were able to figure it all out."

Mic gave Gillian a look. Had they been able to figure it all out?

TEN HOURS LATER

After dinner, Ellie was insistent that she needed a good night out to get her mind off everything, and AJ wasn't going to let her go out by herself. When they finally stumbled out of the club to get their Uber, he was surprised to see that the sky was still light.

He stopped in his tracks on the sidewalk. "Wait - the sun hasn't set yet? There's no way-"

Ellie, who wasn't quite as drunk as him, turned around to give him a confused look. "What do you mean? The sun's rising."

"Oh shit, you mean - but your parents -"

She shrugged. "I texted them and said we were both alive a few hours ago. Don't worry about them."

However, when their Uber dropped them off at the beach instead of the Brumby household, AJ grew increasingly worried that her parents would suddenly begin to think of him as the boyfriend who kept their daughter out at the club all night. He expressed these concerns to Ellie as he picked up one of her shoes she'd accidentally dropped.

Already ten steps ahead of him, Ellie laughed. "They'll know this was my idea. You're fine."

They ended up laying down on the sand, the breeze and sound of the nearby waves making AJ doze off a little.

"I feel weird," he said.

Ellie snorted. "Spending the whole night in the club will do that."

"I had fun, though."

"Me too."

Ellie leaned over to rest her head on his shoulder, and AJ looked down at her. "I'm sorry about all my family stuff," she said. "It's…a lot."

"Oh, that's okay," AJ said. He looked up at the sky, which was now turning a paler shade of blue with the rising sun. "My family has a lot of stuff too, but I guess you'll find out about that pretty soon."

Maybe it was the alcohol, but AJ felt compelled to share some of his own family stuff in an effort to make Ellie feel better, but he was a little confused as to where to start. Should he start with his dad almost dying overseas and losing his leg? Or Sarah? Or Clara and James having their own respective party phases? Or how his mom could be a little too neurotic sometimes-

"Yeah…guess my parents will too because they're coming with us-"

"It'll still be fun, though," AJ reassured her. "We can just do our own thing while they…sort everything out."

Ellie sighed. "This is all just so weird," she said. "Our parents know each other AJ, isn't that so weird?"

He shrugged. "Oh, I don't know, I mean - I'm kind of drunk -"

"Me too."

"But I think," AJ smirked. "Maybe them knowing each other makes this kind of perfect."

Ellie's eyebrows shot up. "Perfect?" she said. "You're crazy."

"No, but hear me out. Maybe in the grand scheme of things this was all meant to be, like it was meant to work out like this."

"What makes you say that?" Ellie turned over so she could look AJ in the eye.

He looked at her, feeling the words on the tip of his tongue. Maybe it was the alcohol, but he'd also thought about saying this sober, too. Now he just had the liquid courage.

"I love you, Ellie. Like, a lot, I think - or wait, I know. I love you a lot."

Ellie blinked at him. "Wait, really?"

"Uh-huh."

"That's so crazy because I kinda love you a lot, too."

"Really?"

"Uh-huh," Ellie smiled, looking over her shoulder at their nearby surroundings. The area they'd stumbled upon was somewhat secluded, and it was still early enough that no one else would be around. "AJ, have you ever had sex on the beach?"

"Yeah, that's a good drink - ohh, you mean -"

LATER THAT NIGHT

0215 EST
MACKENZIE-RABB RESIDENCE
FAIRFAX, VIRGINIA

A lot had changed over the years, but Mac's uncanny sixth sense and her perfect sense of time hadn't. So when she woke up with an all-consuming dread in the pit of her stomach, she knew it was exactly 2:14 in the morning - 2:15 now. After checking the alarm clock on her bedside table for confirmation she didn't need, Mac gently turned over to see Harm still sleeping soundly beside her. His back was to her, but he looked fine.

She'd had a dream, the details of which she couldn't recall, but the memory of it was unsettling enough and left Mac with such a sense of impending doom that she knew it had to mean something. She didn't know what it could possibly mean, which only made her feel worse about it.

Another thing that had followed Mac through the years was her poor sleeping habits. By this point she had mastered the art of moving about the house in the middle of the night without waking anyone up. Soundlessly shuffling into her slippers, Mac left the bedroom and headed out into the hall. The second floor of the Mackenzie-Rabb home was an L-shape, with Harm and Mac's bedroom in the bottom of the "L" with the linen closet and the kids' bedrooms went down in the hall in age order - something that had happened unintentionally when they moved. Silently, Mac nudged each bedroom door open, checking on Adam and Lily to make sure everything was okay.

Mac knew this anxiety to make sure all of her loved ones were where they were supposed to be and that everything was okay was definitely something stemming from childhood, but she saw the silver lining; it made her perfect for motherhood.

Past the bathroom at the very end of the hall was Clara's bedroom. Hand hovering over the door knob, Mac noticed a glow of light under the door. She paused. Clara was still awake. Instead of pushing the door open like she had done with Adam and Lily's room, Mac gently tapped on the door.

"Hey," she said softly. "It's me, can I come in?"

There was shuffling behind the door, and it opened. Clara was wearing sweatpants and an old Navy sweatshirt she'd had since they lived in San Diego. Her hair was tied up into a bun on top of her head and she had a confused expression on her face.

"Is everything okay?" she asked.

Mac suddenly felt like she was being way too intrusive. Clara was twenty, she didn't need her mother checking in on her randomly in the middle of the night after her own bad dream.

"I just had a really weird dream and wanted to see if everything was…okay."

One part of parenthood Mac hadn't been prepared for was the stage when she would become the needy one.

Clara shrugged. "Yeah, I'm fine. What was the dream?"

"I don't know…it just….wasn't good."

Much to Mac's surprise, Clara opened her door wider. "Do you want to come in?" she asked. "I have snacks."

Clara wasn't going to lie; her mom coming into her room at two in the morning was a little weird, but she wasn't necessarily mad about it. It was certainly better than the point in time where they could barely talk to each other.

They were sitting on either side of her bed, backs against the headboard; Clara had moved her laptop and throw blanket to her desk chair to make some extra room. Between the two of them was one of the bags of popcorn Clara had bought the day before.

"Did you like the party?" Clara asked through a mouthful. "How does it feel to finally be thirty?"

"Very funny," Mac replied. "But it was fun. I liked the card."

"Thank you. It was a collaborative effort. So was the cake."

Out of an absentminded habit, Clara reached down to check her phone. Sitting in it were two texts that had still remained unanswered. One of them was from Finn, the other Zach. Zach had texted first that morning at four; Clara had woken up to the text. Finn had been the second to text, waiting until noon. Clara resolved that she would reply to both of them tomorrow, using her mother's birthday as an excuse for her absence - which, technically, wasn't a lie.

"Am I keeping you from something?" Mac asked.

Clara shook her head. "No, it's nothing important. Actually - you know Dad's yeoman?"

"Petty Officer Gregory?"

"Yeahh…" Clara ducked her head down, feeling her cheeks get hot. "When he dropped off your present yesterday he uh….gave me his number?"

Clara watched as Mac's eyes widened in surprise. "Oh really?" she asked, her shock evident. "I didn't know you two were-"

"We're not," Clara quickly replied.

Mac raised an eyebrow, and Clara raised her hands to her face. "Does he have a crush on you?" she asked, her tone suggestive.

"Maybe? I don't know. He asked me to whatever officer ball is happening in June."

"The surface warfare one?"

"Yeah."

"Oh well then we can go on a double date," Mac playfully nudged Clara. "Wouldn't that be fun?"

"We are absolutely not doing that," Clara replied, nudging Mac back. "We'll be at the same event at the same time, but we will not be going together."

"Gotcha."

It was on the tip of Clara's tongue to tell her mom about the other person she ran into on Friday, but thought better of it. If she was already having weird dreams without knowing that, Clara didn't want to add to her troubles.

And there was nothing to worry about anyway.

ONE WEEK LATER

1530 EST
EN ROUTE TO DULLES
VIRGINIA

As he accompanied Bud to the airport to pick up AJ and Ellie, the Admiral had someone on his mind he hadn't thought of in years. Ted Bundy. He stumbled upon a documentary about the man the night before, and having quite literally nothing else to watch, he'd watched it. He'd now reached the age where historical events he remembered vividly were being made into countless books, documentaries and docuseries, and movies starring Zac Efron.

Bundy had been sentenced to death in 1979, the same year Francesca turned ten. AJ would read about updates on the trial in the morning newspaper while she would sit across from him, eating her bowl of cereal. He also watched news coverage of it, seeing the killer who fancied himself a lawyer with his suit and tie masquerade around a courtroom, pleading innocence to the most heinous crimes.

While the press was debating his charm, charisma, and other delusional people were calling him handsome, AJ would watch him and think of the women he'd killed, and then think of his own daughter.

Watching the documentary the night before, AJ was still confused by the sensationalization of it all. Was he really some cunning mastermind or just a small man who brutalized women to feel better about himself? AJ believed that assigning him any kind of intelligence would be giving him too much credit.

AJ had fallen asleep towards the end of the documentary, at the part talking about Bundy breaking into the Chi Omega sorority house at Florida State. He'd beaten two girls to death with a wooden club, and almost did the same to a couple others. Falling asleep to that gruesome description was what AJ attributed to his dream.

He was in a dark room. A cellar or basement of some sorts. In the corner of the room was a young woman sprawled out on the floor, the position of her body unnatural. As AJ walked over to her, he felt a collection of small pebbles under his feet. Peering down to get a closer look, AJ realized what they actually were. Teeth. Teeth covered in blood.

The woman's curly hair was matted down with blood, and AJ turned her over to see her face - or what was left of it - completely bloodied and mangled, boderline unrecognizable.

AJ woke up in a cold sweat.

He'd had plenty of disturbing dreams in his time, but AJ had thought he'd left most of his demons behind when he'd retired from the Navy. Still, as Bud pulled up to arrivals and departures, that image of that young woman stuck with AJ.

"There they are," Bud said. "Well, there's AJ."

The Admiral saw his namesake standing at the curb a few feet ahead, surrounded by luggage. The Admiral would wager that the singular navy checked bag and gray backpack were his, and the matching beige set belonged to the young lady everyone had spent the last month dying to meet.

"Ellie just had to run to the bathroom," AJ explained after giving both of them hugs. "She should be right back-"

"Here I am!"

The Admiral turned around and came face to face with the same young woman from his dream. If it wasn't her, it was a damn good resemblance.

Between small talk, the Admiral spent most of the drive home trying to rationalize it. He'd just watched the Bundy documentary, and he'd already seen plenty of pictures of Ellie - the dream was just his brain playing a cruel trick on him, trying to scare him for no reason. Bundy was executed in 1989, ten years before Ellie was even born. There was no way he could come back from the dead with a wooden club in hand.

Still, the Admiral would occasionally look through the rearview mirror and catch a glimpse of Ellie, and he would wonder if something wasn't right. Could it really have been a dream? Horrible things happened in real life all the time.

First of all, apologies for this being almost 7,000 words, but I wanted this to be a transition chapter into the next phase of the story, and I couldn't find a good enough place to cut it in two. This story isn't going to get super angsty and serious right away, but it is something that I'm building up to - if the somewhat heavy handed foreshadowing here wasn't obvious to that. For awhile I was debating whether or not to take the story in this direction or to just leave it more lighthearted, but I decided to go with my gut and take this route instead.

So yeah. Looking forward to seeing what you guys think and I'm interested to see where this story goes.

Thanks for reading this incredibly long update,

-Harper