A/N Hello, dear readers. It's been too long, and for that, I apologize. A tsunami of troubles swept me away from fanfiction and turned my world topsy-turvy. While drifting through the wreckage on my unicorn-shaped pool floaty, I did not forget my promise to finish this story.

I'm happy to announce that Prey for the Wicked is now complete. Chapters will be posted weekly to allow time for editing and polishing. Thank you to all who read.

Huge thanks to my beta Saritadreaming.

Happy Birthday, Jo.

. . . . . .

Prey for the Wicked

Chapter 26

Yant'äwi

. . . . . .

A concrete landscape is the only view Leah's hospital room window provides. The sour-yellow security lights birth amorphous shadows. They hunch around the few vehicles like ominous sentinels shifting with impatience.

Bella shivers in the chilly, medicinal air. She hates hospitals.

Behind her, one of the monitors hooked up to Leah emits a steady, tonal beep. Another rasp on her nerves. She tugs her phone out of her pocket for what feels like the hundredth time and stares blearily at the screen. No texts. No calls.

They've been here less than an hour, but it feels like an eternity. A whirlwind of tests and examinations have already taken place. For a small-town hospital, Forks General is efficient.

Shifting an ache out of the small of her back, Bella scrolls through the texts she's sent to Jake's phone.

Call me!

Let me know if you're okay.

Jake, I'm the hospital with Leah. This is important. Please call or text…

Rm# 203. She's ok 4 now but u should come…

Her thumbs hover over the keyboard, her brain refusing to supply a new way to word the plea. She switches to the text she sent Edward, still processing that he placed his cell number in her phone without her knowledge.

Edward?

That he hasn't replied fills her with anxiety. She tries to think of another message to type. Don't hurt him? No. She won't give that unuttered plea any room to breathe. She has to hold onto her faith in him, limited as it is.

I'm w/Leah at the hospital. If u r with Jake, bring him here. Rm# 203.

Someone down the hall coughs, and the hospital intercom system pages a doctor to the third floor. The sounds sneak into her psyche, past her guard, triggering memories she usually keeps at bay. Renee, on a bed, pale, still and fragile. Concerned faces hovering and suspicious. The need to lie, lie, lie… "No, my mother doesn't drink too much. Yes, she takes her psychiatric medications. Honest, doctor, she's a good mom. She'd never do anything to harm herself; it was an accident. She's not suicidal or unstable!" A slew of words and terms no kid should know.

Bella makes a mental note to herself. Upgrade disliking hospitals to loathing them. Check.

As if her thumbs have a will of their own, she taps out the words, Come back to me, then hits send and stares at the screen, willing a response that doesn't happen.

. . . . .

"Let's cut to the chase, bloodsucker. What the hell are you doing with Bella Swan?"

The inevitable question brings a swarm of irritation that buzzes in Edward's ears, a nuisance he can't swat away no matter how much he wants to.

"Keep in mind, your answer is going to directly reflect how the rest of this conversation goes," Black says with a snap of his pearly whites. Even without canine incisors, his teeth look razor-sharp in the gloom.

"Interesting that you assume you get to govern my answer with poorly veiled threats, pup. I was willing to attempt an amiable discussion, but now I'll say it's none of your business." Edward leans forward as Black scowls. "Before you utter another word, keep in mind I could've killed you."

"See," Black says, a grin devoid of humour honing out the vowels, "judging by the state of your arm, I'd say I likewise could've killed you."

Edward copies and pastes the grin, gloating. "Hardly a mortal wound."

"A few inches higher, that arm would be on the ground, followed by your head. After that, all I'd need is a fire."

Edward mutters an oath, disconcerted at the knowledge of vampires Black conveys. His arm burns anew, reinforcing the truth. "I'm tired of this conversation. In respect to your ancestor, who I once considered a friend of sorts-"

Black laughs. "Oh, I doubt he thought the same. Not from what I've heard."

"I was there. I lived the history you believed a fable."

A snort of derision is Black's response. Edward doesn't give him time for more. "As I said, in respect, I will answer your question. My intentions with Isabella Swan are none of your business, but I can assure you, her well-being is not in danger."

"But you admit you have intentions." Black's features settle into a mulish expression. "Answer me this, Cullen. Do you know what she is to me?"

"Yes."

"And do you get that the front porch I found you on tonight is mine?"

"Part yours in name only. As you no longer reside there…"

"Bella matters to me!"

Edward inclines his head, struggling for patience, willing to concede only because he reads the truth of it in the dog's brain. "She matters to me as well, Black," he replies quietly, quieter still when he adds a warning. "It would be advised that you understand exactly how much she matters to me before you say another word."

. . . . . .

Jake feels like the leech punched him. He might as well have. Reeling back on his heels, he stares hard into those weird, copper-ringed eyes and curses. "No. Fucking. Way. You are not standing there staking a claim on her. She's human, you damned parasite. Human. And she's going to stay that way or so help me…"

"Or so help you, what?"

"Break the treaty, harm one hair on her head, and you'll find out."

"Empty threats."

"So, you admit you plan to kill her?"

"What?" It's the vampire's turn to reel back, and Jake closes the new distance, surprised to see the genuine shock cross the cold one's face. "I admit no such thing. I have no intention of hurting her!"

"Changing her?"

"That is a discussion you will never be a part of."

Jake feels his heart sink. "You son of a bitch. You attached to her somehow. How is that possible when she's human?"

The vampire drags a hand through his hair roughly. It's the first sign Jake's seen that the cold one's composure isn't ironclad. Aiming into the chink in the armour, Jake slams the flat of his hand into Cullen's chest. "Answer me!"

"I don't know!" Cullen yells, then lets out a hard breath and moves faster than Jake can track to a distance of ten feet away.

"Motherfucker." Jake breathes the expletive like a sigh, but what he says next is in a tone that's loud enough to rise above the thick canopy of trees. "You're in love with her? No, it's more than that. You think she's your… what? Mate? Damn it! I knew something was up with her. I knew she was in some kind of messed up situation. Stupidly, I thought it was Newton…" He snaps his gaze back on the leech, understanding a tidal wave in his brain. "You're the reason Newton vanished. Aren't you?"

Cullen shrugs. "I'm not going to answer that on the grounds I may incriminate myself," he replies. With an eerie air, he crosses his arms casually and drops his chin to fix an icy stare and a hellish smile on Jake. An air of controlled violence oozes back in. Dracula donning his cloak.

"You just did!" Jake's back molars grind as he outwardly ignores Cullen's mercurial mood swing. He isn't immune to the hot twist of his insides ramping up in favour of flight over fight. To curb the chicken-shit instinct, he sets to pacing. "Holy crap," he mutters to the ground. His angry footsteps kick up a thick patch of dry foliage and dirt, exposing the protruding roots of the Redwood closest to him, thick as his bicep.

"He was a threat to her, Black." It's a matter-of-fact statement delivered in a tone that conveys Cullen isn't open to hearing different.

Not that Jake is going to disagree. "No shit, Sherlock. God damn. This is a mess. You know that, right? The cops are all over this. Bella's dad is all over this. You know he's the Chief of Police?"

He watches Cullen dip his head in a barely-there nod, back to being the silent, controlled, creepy-as-hell asshole he was before Jake rattled him.

"Of course you do."

"There is nothing I won't do to keep her safe, Black."

"Is that a warning?"

The vampire has the balls to roll his eyes. "You are not a threat to her. But there will be consequences if you try to keep her from me. I don't need to end your life, dog. I'll just make it miserable."

Jake barks out a mocking laugh, then asks, "She knows what you are?"

"Yes. She knows what I am."

"This is such a mess."

Surprisingly, the vampire arches an eyebrow and lets out a sound that could pass for a chuckle if it wasn't so menacing. "Tell me something I don't know."

. . . . . .

"Any answer yet?"

Bella turns to find Leah putting an emptied cup of water on the side table with the others she's been told to drink. Stuffing her phone back in her pocket, Bella shakes her head.

"Still think everything is fine?" Leah asks, blandly sarcastic. "They're just what? Hanging out in the woods late at night? I know, maybe they're practicing their fire-making skills. Getting ready to roast marshmallows and become besties." She sags back against her pillows, fingers plucking restlessly at the blanket that covers her lower body. The way it's smoothed flat over her abdomen makes the small bump of her pregnancy appear alarmingly prominent.

Wandering to the other bed in the room, Bella grabs a folded blanket off the end and holds it up. "Are you cold?"

"No. I'm not cold."

"How are you not cold? It's freezing in here." Bella partially unfolds the blanket and wraps it around her own shoulders. She grabs the arm of the one chair in the room and drags it noisily to Leah's bedside, dropping into it. Exhaustion makes her want to close her eyes. Instead, she focuses on Leah. "How do you feel?"

Leah shrugs, the loose-fitting hospital gown sliding off one shoulder with the motion. She yanks it back in place irritably. "The cramping's stopped. Feels like the spotting has, too." She looks at Bella. "That's gotta be a good sign… right?"

"Yeah, it is." Bella offers the reassurance quickly, even though she doesn't really know if it's true.

Still, Leah nods, her ramrod posture easing a bit. "I wish they'd hurry up and get the ultrasound done. If they don't, I'm going to pee myself."

"I'm sure it won't be long. Do you want me to go check?"

Leah ignores the question and says, "You don't have to stay here. You can leave whenever you want."

Watching Leah sweep her hair behind her ears, Bella notices the short strands are lacklustre. She wonders if it's the lighting or a sign that Leah is worse off than she's letting on. "Do you want me to leave?" she asks.

Giving up on her hair, Leah lets it fall back around her face. "Maybe you should go. See if you can find Jake. He could be back at your house waiting for us. Like… his phone could be lost, or maybe he didn't have cell reception and didn't get your messages…" She trails off, one of her hands moving to rest on the swell of her pregnancy.

The tender action creates a weird bridge of constriction in Bella's throat. That, combined with the fact she's been having the same thoughts, spurs an urge to agree. She shakes it off. There's no way Jake would sit at the house and wait for them. He's still with Edward, or he's taken off on his own. She feels a spike of sympathy at how Jake must be feeling. So many years of believing the legends about shapeshifters were stories, all stripped away. Because of her. Because of Edward.

Before she can form a way to say any of this to Leah, a woman enters the room pushing the ultrasound cart.

She smiles brightly. "Okay, Miss Clearwater. Have you finished all your water? Is that bladder good and full?"

. . . . . .

Mosquitos. Jake bats at one aimed for his bicep, grimacing. Every time he wanders too far from the big bloodsucker, the little ones hit him up like tiny heat-seeking missiles. The dark is heavy, and the thick trees trap the heat. He's sweating like he's in a sauna.

He smacks the bug flat with his free hand, flicking it away just as the stream of his urine hitting the tree tapers off. He rubs his palm off on his jeans with a grimace. One little one down, one big one to go. Dragging his zipper up and grinning at the thought, he propels himself back to the life-size mosquito.

"If you've finished marking your territory and trying to come up with clever analogies to compare me with insects, I think we should conclude our time together."

Jake crosses his arms as the bugs vamoose, confirming his suspicion that Cullen is as effectual as a spray of deet. Before the vamp can comment on that, Jake huffs in exasperation. "First," he says, "you really should try to speak like someone from this century. Conclude our time together. Really? I know you're old as hell, but come on. Modernize a little. Second," he continues, uninterested in feedback, "you don't get to decide when we're done here. I need to know more about Newton. What are the chances his body will be found?"

A short exhale is followed by Cullen leaning his shoulder against a tree. "Slim to none," he replies, sounding bored.

"Great. Glad you're unconcerned. I mean, why would you be?"

Jake remembers his last talk with Charlie. The borderline accusations were thinly veiled at best, the suspicion ripe. He watches the vampire's eyebrows go up. "Don't look surprised," Jake orders. "Like it never occurred to you that the cops would look at the ex-boyfriend? Maybe you set it up that way? Good way to get me out of the picture."

"Unfortunately, the thought never occurred to me." The bloodsucker adds, looking as bored as he sounds to the mix, and Jake realizes his mistake. He hasn't been a consideration to Cullen this entire time—not even to frame him. And if that isn't a kick to his teeth, he doesn't know what is. Exhaustion settles over him. He wants a cold shower, a bed, and twelve hours of uninterrupted sleep. And a bottle of extra-strength Tylenol. His entire body hurts.

"Look, I'm not going to pretend I care if Newton's dead. But why kill him?"

"I told you-"

Jake waves off the repeat. "And I heard you. He was a threat to Bella. I get it, but here's an idea. Why not tip off the cops and let them arrest his ass?"

Cullen scoffs. "You weren't there, Black. You don't have my ability." He taps his temple. "I saw his thoughts, his sick intent and obsession."

"He left evidence of it. I'm aware." Instantly, Jake's mind supplies the visuals of that binder of photos Charlie destroyed. The photoshopped evil proves Mike wasn't just a stalker. He was one depraved psycho. He suppresses a shudder of disgust and locks eyes with Cullen, who's gone rigid. Or rigid-er. If that's a possibility.

Jake's muscles clench involuntarily. Aching ribs and exhaustion take a brief reprieve as his body kicks up a little extra adrenaline in prep for dealing with a jealous killer. Keeping thoughts out of his head around the leech needs to become priority number one on his agenda. Giving him a front-row seat to his memories of those photoshopped pictures of Bella and him on La Push beach in flagrante delicto probably isn't the wisest move he's made tonight.

Since it's too late to take it back, Jake projects his next words through thought alone, testing the limits of the vampire's telepathy. Don't get worked up, bloodsucker. Going feral on my ass because my memories have you feeling territorial isn't going to get us anywhere. Bella has a past. It was with me. Deal with it.

Cullen's eyes narrow, and the hair on the back of Jake's neck stands up. He watches the vampire tip his head to the sky, clearly fighting the urge to beat him senseless. Jealousy is a bitch, so he can't exactly blame the leech. He's got a few jealous bones in his body, too. The only thing holding down the green-eyed monster is that he has no right to feel that way over Bella, considering Leah is knocked up. Shit.

Rather than compute that fresh stress, Jake takes a verbal poke at the leech. "You know, a lot of this could've been avoided if you'd bothered to think with your big head and not your little head." Emphasizing little is petty, but hey, it's been a long night. He's entitled to be an asshole.

Surprisingly, the vampire takes the higher road, ignoring the jibe to his dick size and diffusing Jake with a point-blank honesty he half respects.

"You're right." Cullen frowns and gives a glimpse of his agitation with a few ticks in the muscles of his jaw. "I was… enraged. I saw a threat to her, and I lost my mind. I don't regret my actions. But I do regret the mess I've made with them. You have my apology for the effect it's had on you."

Jake smacks his hand to his chest mockingly. "I do?"

"Don't push it, Black. I'm not good at eating humble pie."

"If that means you're an egocentric prick, then yeah, I noticed."

"Takes one to know one, I suppose," Cullen adds dryly.

"You want to throw a 'nah nah' in there somewhere?"

"Sticks and stones come to mind."

Rolling his eyes, Jake swipes away a bead of sweat inching a path down his temple. An odd sensation of pins and needles dulls his nerves.

"You should know, there's more of those photographs, and worse, in a locked box in the basement of Newton's Outfitters." Cullen throws this tidbit of info out casually, though there's nothing casual about the air of menace radiating from his body language. It's also clear this is something Cullen considers a big problem.

Jake groans. "Jesus Christ. That's great. Just awesome. Let me guess. Newton's dad is hiding them?"

Cullen shrugs. "He is."

"How do you even know this?"

"I went with Isabella to terminate her employment and ensure she received suitable severance. The senior Newton was more generous with his thoughts than his money."

Jake feels his jaw clench and lets up on the teeth grinding before he has none left to grind. He has to give it to the bloodsucker. Whatever else has been going on, it's clear he's taking care of Bella. It's the same thing Jake would've done if Bella was still his.

"I hope the severance was hefty," he says grudgingly.

"It was more than he can comfortably afford and less than she deserved."

Jake nods, his brain spinning. "All right, let's cut to the chase. What do you want from me? Why drag me out here?"

"Need I remind you it was your actions that warranted me bringing you here? You showed up tonight, allowing your base biology to rule your impulses. I brought you here to give you time to calm down and find acceptance that your shapeshifter lineage is, in fact, real. You were a danger to yourself and others in your previous state of mind."

"Yeah, well, I never wanted any of this!" Jake automatically gives his head a shake, wishing he could take the childish response back.

"DNA governs your reality, and what you want plays no part. Deal with it." The bloodsucker has the gall to deliver the words in a factual tone that rings judgment-free.

"Fuck you," Jake mutters, no real heat behind the words, an exhausted sigh trailing behind him as he beelines for a nearby stump. His ass hits the damp wood, and he watches Cullen cross one foot over the other, leaning a little more into the tree. It's eerie as hell the way he pulls off human.

"Legend says you and your…" Jake pauses to put feigned quotation marks around his next word. "… family, feed off animals and donor blood. That you don't kill humans. So is Newton a one-off, or has that all changed in the past hundred years?"

. . . . .

Edward watches Black sit, noting the positioning of his body, tilted forward, the heels of his feet placed at the perfect angle to launch him back into motion. This isn't the position of a man at rest; this is a wolf, ready to pounce. It's rather impressive.

"My family continues to live that lifestyle."

Black's eyes narrow. "Your family does. But you don't."

It isn't a question. Edward calculates the risk and decides to be honest. "Correct."

"Not the answer I wanted to hear, leech." The growl in his vocals knocks a few of the words into a snarl.

Edward inclines his head in acknowledgement, ignoring the ferocity. "I'm not going to explain beyond telling you that Newton—and human males like him—make up my… diet."

"What? Like, are you some kind of Dexter? Hunting down psychopaths and serial killers?"

Rolling his eyes at the reference to the popular television show, Edward chooses to match Jake's mindset. "I'm better at it than the fictional Dexter. I read minds. I can separate the wolves from the sheep easily."

"All right, I'm officially on information overload," Black mutters. He drags his hand down his face, betraying his discomfort with a grunt of pain and the quick return of his arm to his side. "Three more questions. Give me straight answers, no bullshit. And save the big dictionary words and fancy phrasing. I'm getting a damn headache."

He stares at Edward, his pupils retracting into midnight-dark slices bracketed with irises that glow like the moon. Edward sees Ephraim in those eyes.

"Other than Newton, have you broken the treaty and hunted in Forks?"

"No."

"According to our legends, when a vampire mates, it's forever. And there's nothing they won't do to keep their mate happy and safe. The same way our kind bonds to our females. True?"

"Yes."

Edward watches Black's shoulders twitch, a spasm of his thoughts matching those muscles as he struggles to assimilate the truth. He considers it a win that Bella isn't in physical danger. He tries not to think of the danger to her soul and succeeds, for now.

"Last question."

Edward swears those wolf-like eyes shoot sparks as Black gets to his feet. It costs him something to do it. Edward is grudgingly impressed at the stamina.

"That box in the basement of Newton Outfitters. It needs to be destroyed. Do you agree?"

"Unequivocally."

Black rolls his eyes. "A simple yes would've worked, but you just couldn't help yourself, could you?"

Edward grins. "Is your headache worse?"

"Fuck you, leech."

"Right back at you, dog."

. . . . . .

Unnerved by the ultrasound tech folding Leah's blanket down and the necessary shifting of her hospital gown, Bella moves to the opposite side of the bed, meaning to get out of the way. Leah thrusts out her hand, stopping Bella in her tracks. The last thing Bella wants to do is hold Leah's hand. She'd like to separate herself from this situation entirely.

Summoning her compassion to the surface, she locks her fingers with Leah's. A faint tremor translates itself through their mutual grasp. Bella thinks it's probably Leah's nerves, but it could easily be hers. Despite herself, she stares at the monitor as the technician completes the smear of gel across Leah's stomach. The woman wields the ultrasound wand like she's about to perform a magic trick, which Bella supposes she is.

"Okay, deep breath, Miss Clearwater. I know you're uncomfortable, but stay as still as possible for me." The woman turns her attention to the screen, where hazy black-and-white images flutter and fluctuate.

An instant rush of noise fills the room, a rhythmic whoosh-whoosh interspersed with static.

Leah's hand clenches so tight on hers that it's painful. Bella barely notices, too busy trying to tell if anything she's seeing looks like a baby.

"Is there a heartbeat? Is that a heartbeat?" Leah asks, a rush of words crammed so close together there is no breath in between.

"Give me a second, Miss Clearwater. Let me find a better angle."

Bella takes her view off the screen and notices deep grooves appearing between the technician's eyes as her eyebrows scrunch down. Concentration or concern? Unease makes her queasy, her stomach rolling with the wand's motion as it moves across Leah's skin, sliding through the slippery gel.

"What's wrong?" Leah demands, her gaze likewise shifting from the screen to the person currently gauging her baby's life.

Zeroing in on the right side of Leah's abdomen, the technician applies a level of pressure that makes Leah wince.

"Sorry," the woman murmurs, distracted. The whooshing noise gets louder and faster, a heavy sound that echoes loudly in the space. There's something else, a second noise that may or may not match the first. Bella finds herself leaning in, squinting hard at the screen again, the ambiguous blobs flexing and moving…

"There's the heartbeat. Do you hear it?"

The crush of Leah's fingers doesn't relent with the news. Still staring at the technician, she repeats her question in staccato format. "What. Is. Wrong?"

A silence so abrupt it feels like a slap swaps out the metronome thrum from the ultrasound machine as the woman lifts the wand away. Economical movements replace it in its cradle.

The technician strips off her gloves, her features shaping into a mask of professionalism. She gives Leah a smile that marginally misses the comforting mark. "I'm afraid I just can't get a clear image. We might have a malfunction with this machine. I'm going to see if I can get our other portable ultrasound. Sit tight. I won't be long."

Bella watches the woman dart from the room, the squeak of her sturdy-soled shoes as she spins hard on her heels on the utilitarian linoleum echoing in the void she leaves. Before Bella can redirect her attention to Leah, she's already aware of the air disbursement caused by the blankets being tossed aside. Leah is on her feet, peeling away the tape holding her IV needle.

"What are you doing?"

"I'm getting out of here."

"Leah, you can't…"

"Bella, for crying out loud, wake up, will you? I should've never let you talk me into coming here. This was a mistake."

"You need medical care…"

Wincing as she frees the tape, discarding it on the bed, Leah glares at her. "Did you or did you not see the expression on that woman's face?"

Bella glances at the empty doorway, her mind racing.

"You saw how fast she ran out of this room? Malfunctioning equipment, my ass. She saw something weird, and it freaked her the hell out. Jake is a werewo …"

"Leah, shut up!" Bella hustles to the open door. After a quick peek down the empty hallway, she shuts it as quietly as possible. Turning back around, she watches Leah inspect the IV, getting ready to yank it out.

She hurries back, stopping her just in time. "Jesus, Leah. Do not pull that out! You need to calm the hell down," she hisses. "And be careful what you say. Do you want to get sent to the psych ward for an evaluation?"

"We don't have time for this!" Leah snaps.

Bella tries to reason. "Didn't Jake's mother have an obstetrician? She gave birth in a hospital, right?"

"No. God, you are as bad as Jake, Bella. You know nothing. His mother used a Quileute midwife! He was born at home on the reservation! No doctors, no nurses, no frigging ultrasounds! Which was exactly the plan for me, by the way!"

"You're right. I know nothing about any of this. But I do know racing out of here like your ass is on fire is only going to make things look more suspicious."

Leah sits on the edge of the bed, breathing heavily.

"Let's think logically." Bella forces a calming tone, lowering her voice to a whisper. "Equipment malfunctions all the time. If something is unusual about your pregnancy, they aren't going to know it's because it's supernatural. Maybe we should stay and complete the ultrasound."

Leah looks at the door and then back at Bella, frozen and panicked.

Realizing she's once again in the position of caretaker, Bella takes a steadying breath and mentally squares her shoulders. Reluctant but resolute, she fixes Leah with a hard stare. "All right," she says firmly. "We'll leave. But we do it the right way."

"What right way?" Leah, thankfully, lowers her voice to a whisper as well.

"It's called signing out against medical advice. Hospitals aren't prisons. They can't force you to stay as long as you're rational and in control of yourself."

Bella moves to the cupboard and snags the hospital-issued plastic bag with Leah's clothes. She shakes them out and unfolds them, then takes Leah's hand and does her best to reapply the tape holding the needle in Leah's vein.

"You are going to have that IV removed by someone who knows what they're doing. And then, and only then, are we going to walk, not run, out of here. Got it?"

One of Leah's eyebrows gets higher than the other, but she nods, letting some of the tension out of her body.

"I'm going to the front desk to get the paperwork started. When the nurse comes in, you are going to tell her you freaked out and overreacted, but you feel much better, and you've decided that you prefer to follow up with your personal doctor in the morning." Pausing, she studies Leah. "You do have a GP, right?"

Leah shrugs. "I haven't seen her in years, but technically, I do."

Tossing the blanket she's had around her shoulders onto the bed, Bella prepares to take charge, a task as familiar as breathing.

She straightens her spine and marches to the door. "All right, practice looking calm. I'll be right back."

. . . . . .