"Please come in"

The blonde woman replied and her voice came out low and uncertain. Detective Rowbin took a moment to scan the room that he found himself in. It was certainly spacious and had the particularity of being designed with the structure of small apartments, with an anteroom and bathroom. He gazed over the large wooden bookshelf standing tall across a velvet sage colored couch. The bookshelf was decorated with multiple historic books and art deco furniture. With a quick look he immediately realized that the accommodation couldn't be cheap, but it didn't surprise him considering that Grace Berk herself was the very person that rented it.

Next to the bookshelf he noticed the walls of the bar that were adorned with paintings. One of them, the one that was hanged in the middle associated with the Portuguese empire, and portrayed the coats of arms of the colonies at the time and its symbolism associated with the period of the discoveries. Across the couch, a rounded glassy coffee table laid on top of a dark red carpet. The room was the combination of rustic and modern at the same time. He looked around the spacious area seeking for any sign of Rita but the only thing that he could identify as hers was a pair of black lacy gloves. He remembered her wearing them once, during one of her meetings with detective Vern that he had the "audacity" to interrupt back at the time.

He slid his left hand in one of his pockets and grabbed a pack of cigarettes again. He glanced over Grace and the woman looked at him with wide eyes.

"May I?"

He asked when he had already positioned the cigarette between his full lips.

"Of course."

She responded quickly and gave him a quick awkward grin.

He lit up the cigarette and inhaled a heavy bang. He paced towards the tall window standing tall next to the right side of the bookshelf and took a look outside. The room eyed straight forward towards the Olive St. It was always that much crowded throughout the morning time of the day, he thought to himself. He took another bang and Grace's nerves were over the edge now. She construed his long pause and hesitation to speak as a terrifying reply. Silence spoke volumes to her.

"What's going on?"

She finally managed to ask impatiently.

"Where is Miss Rita Castillo? Detective Loomis informed me that she should be here."

"And he knew that how exactly?"

She quirked a thin blonde brow and pressed her pinkish lips against each other to hide her nervousness.

"His wife made sure to inform him about your secret accommodation."

His baby blue eyes glued on hers. A pair of ocean blue ones that squinted at the sound of his reply. She cleared her throat and crossed her hands under her chest. She nodded her head in understanding and it took her a moment to find her voice again as sheer fear took over her body and made her limbs go numb.

"It's alright. Your late solitaire nights are none of my interest. I'm not working against you Miss Berk."

He responded with as much sincerity was left in him. And something in his eyes reassured Grace about the truthfulness of his words.

She grinned slightly and walked closer to him next to the window. She needed the fresh air.

"Back to my question... Where is Miss Castillo?"

"I don't know."

Again too rapid.

"Oh?"

He frowned and run his fingers through his short hair.

"We attended a doctor's appointment earlier together, but ever after that... she left. To an unknown destination."

"I see. She shouldn't be roaming the streets on her own."

He stated and exhaled the grey mass of smoke outside the window.

"She's not handicapped. It's not my job to keep her restrained."

"I'm aware Miss Berk."

"So why are you really here? It's not a regular check up as it seems."

She spoke in a hoarse voice.

"Detective Loomis has a very good reason to believe that it's not safe for Rita Castillo to be walking around town by herself. There are sources that exclaim that Alma Filcot remains as a threat."

Grace let out a light sardonic chuckle in response. But when her eyes met his, she witnessed the seriousness in his gaze. The man couldn't be joking.

"How? How is she a threat? That lunatic is locked up in jail awaiting for her death sentence to release her from her demons. Excuse me detective... I don't really see how is she truly a threat to us."

"Allow me to disagree. I have a good reason for trusting Vern's suspicions. I'm not saying that you should lock up Rita in this hotel room. All I'm asking you is to keep a closer eye on her."

He put out his cigarette on the ledge leaving a black stain on the very spot the lit up tobacco was extinguished.

"Very well. Do not hesitate to contact me in case of any updates."

"I won't. It's better to be safe than sorry, am I correct?"

He gave her a lopsided smile and put his hat back on his head.

"Yes... I was only hoping that we would be done with any possible threats in this town. We can't afford any more scandals."

She announced and her lips drew back.

"You can't predict the future Miss Berk. Neither can I."

He nodded and paced towards the front door. Grace didn't move. She leaned against the ledge looking lost in her thoughts for once again. Her fingers fiddled together but Rowbin didn't dare to comment on her nervousness. After a series of unpredicted and horrifying events that occurred months ago, he couldn't blame the woman for being petrified. He exited the door and made sure to shut it on his way out. He walked down the long staircase that lead back to the lobby, walked past the receptionist that gave him a quick smile and left the building. He walked down the main street and turned left when he stopped.

Vern Loomis put out his cigarette real quick on the sole of his black oxfords and Rowbin patted his shoulder to greet him.

"How are they holding up?"

The taller dark skinned man clenched his jaw and rubbed his freshly shaved chin.

"Miss Berk was by herself. She claimed that she didn't know where Rita was."

"Did you warn her like I told you to?"

"You left me no choice. Earl is going to kill us both in case he finds out that I let you interfere in this case again."

Vern immediately tossed the man a warning glare and his well rounded black eyes narrowed.

"Earl doesn't have the proper judgment to conduct his job properly as it seems."

"I tried to talk to him."

"Don't bother. He's a very pigheaded person. I just don't get all this sudden fondness over Harry. That man is a psychologist, he keeps referring to those criminals as his patients."

His hands formed two fists and slid in his blazer's pockets slowly.

"Psychologists can't understand our work and we can't understand theirs."

"I refuse to believe that science's work is more important than preserving security in this city. As long as Alma Filcot is alive and breathing, her victims will never sleep peacefully at night."

"Are you referring to Dee or Rita?"

Rowbin tilted his head and wet his lips as he took a moment to examine his old pal. He knew Vern better than anyone, years of working together and being partners in war created a bond between them. Vern didn't have to exclaim his main thought in order for Rowbin to understand. He already knew that his main concern was all about Dee and his son.

"Both of them."

"Liar."

"Dee wants to see her. She wants to visit her in prison Rowbin."

"And you want her dead before she has the time to disobey your instructions and scar herself completely for a lifetime."

Vern nodded in response and let out a heavy sigh.

"That woman almost ruined our family..."

"You can't go through that again."

Rowbin continued his sentence like a mind reader and wet his bottom lip.

"Exactly."

"Do what you have to do, but be discreet. Justice shall be served soon and it will be all over."

"For now, keep an eye on Rita. I think that I should take another look on Harry's resume."

"What are you up to?"

"Something doesn't feel right man."

Vern spoke and checked on his wrist watch. It was almost 6:30 by now.

"I'll give you a call soon."

Rowbin shook his head in agreement and the two men separated. Vern Loomis was a hardworking man. A very honorable one too driven by the sheer will created by constant unfortunate events that gathered throughout the years. It was the first time in forever throughout his career path where he felt quite tangled between right and wrong. The only thing he knew for sure was that once upon a time ago he gave Dee his oath to keep her safe and happy no matter what. And now he could feel a threat coming their way, and he felt helpless.

Earl got up from his chair and sipped the final drop of leftover coffee that remained in its cup unattached for the past two hours. He discarded the cup in the trash can and proceeded to gather a bunch of paper work from the surface of his desk and place them in his backpack. Today's shift turned out to be a lot more nerve wrecking than what he had expected. Ever since he had to put Vern Loomis on suspension after Harry's persistence on the matter he felt a huge burden weighting down his shoulders. He felt guilty for technically betraying an old friend and partner. But his superiors were beyond crystal clear when they instructed him to hand over Alma's case to science until her final moment on that deadly chair would take place. A knock on the door interrupted his thoughts and self-pity .

"Come in."

He murmured unamused by the very fact that he would have to spend one more second in this office. The door opened and Harry's masculine figure paced in the office confidently. He shut the door behind him and by the confident grin on his face Earl knew that it couldn't be good news.

"Can I help you mister Jaworksi? I do believe that your shift ended hours ago, and the next one doesn't start for at least the next 12 hours."

Harry only smiled in response. A wide sinister smile spread on his lips revealing a wide set of bright white teeth.

"I have an idea."

"Great another bright idea."

Earl husked in response and sat back down on his chair realizing that this conversation wouldn't be a short one. Harry proceeded to take a seat down across him and folded his hands on top of the desk.

"I'd like to conduct an experiment. A very short one."

"An experiment? I hope you are aware that this not a laboratory facility mister Jaworski. This is the local prison."

"Which is constituted from a great number of guinea pigs."

Harry smirked and his index finger tapped against the surface of the desk impatiently.

"What an interesting way to call our prisoners..."

"Patients!"

Harry corrected him and his face turned rapidly serious.

"It looks like we have our own unique way to refer to them."

"In fact we do."

"Are we talking about Alma?"

Earl asked.

"Bingo."

"Please enlighten me."

"I would like to test her behavior on a personal level. I want her free and before you refuse this opportunity I would like to state that her temporary release would only occur under tight restrictions. You have the right to set patrols around her house and keep her restrained and handcuffed. I am personally willing to follow the protocol thoroughly in order not to cause any trouble... All I need is your approval so I can start the experiment and return her the soonest."

A wide confident smile spread on his lips. Earl on the other hand didn't look convinced. He frowned in reaction to Harry's request. He leaned back on his leather chair and folded his hands under his chest before he let out a low chortle.

"What makes you think that I'm going to let you conduct such an absurd plan? What makes you think that your reasoning sounds rational?"

Harry pressed his full lips against each other and took a moment to process the odds of his succession after this conversation. Truth is that he wasn't here to make a request. He was planning to make a crystal clear demand.

"It's for the greater good. Think of all the patients we'll manage to heal after figuring out Alma's condition."

"There's absolutely nothing to understand! That woman is completely bonkers! I'm not going to sacrifice all the progress this unit made recently by arresting her for science's greater good!"

Earl tried to will the anger out of his voice but he realized that he couldn't. Harry showed up only a couple of days ago and he had already managed to elude Earl into making absurd decisions for his unit, always in the name of science. This time his guilts and his passion for justice didn't allow him to fall for Harry's extended ideas. Real life shouldn't be an experiment.

"What did your superiors told you detective Earl? They supposedly sent me here to scrutinize her mentality, you can't stand as an obstacle to my work."

"This is absurd! Absolutely absurd! Fuck her mentality, and screw your psychological nonsense! What is the press gonna say? I can't possibly set a murderer free into this society for once again, risk her victim's lives and justify my irrational actions in the name of science!"

A pair of his balled fists landed on the surface of his desk as he tried to make a point. Harry didn't even flinch. He just chuckled.

His laughter always disturbed those within earshot. Some said it resembled the laughter of a hyena during a dark night. Others swore that it sounded like howling of a wolf at a full moon. Still others stated that it was a mixture of both interspersed with keening and barking of a rabid dog about to attack. In Earl's ears it sounded mortifying. He considered the sound to be as much deranged as Alma's laughter was.

"But you will. I'm fairly certain."

Harry continued and said in response. His eyes soon darkened, and his lips drew back into a thin line. There was something about his confidence that made Earl think that the man had already figured out a way to convince him. He was just trying to delay the use of his final ace.

"Why?"

He asked and cleared his throat to mask his inconvenience. Harry bit his bottom lip and finally stood up. He pushed his chair back and stood on his feet looking towards Earl from above. He wanted to look confident. He wanted to be feared, he missed the sense of self confidence Rita provided him with every single time he made her plead for his mercy.

"What is the press gonna say if they find out that the so courageous Earl, head of the police, a hardworking detective that constantly aces and thrives in all of his missions sleeps with detective Jones?"

Harry's sinister smile returned on his face for once again. This time he positioned his hands on the top of the desk and lowered himself in order to look at the other man straight in the eyes. He yearned to witness his fear and despair. Earl froze. For a moment the look on his face seemed puzzled and concerned... but he took a moment to process this new information. Harry Jaworski, stood across him and threatened him in his very office.

"What are you talking about?"

"You know very damn well. You can either let me conduct my work freely, or lose your job and a pious position in this society. It would be a shame... two strong men like you only share one weakness. Their unnatural lust for one another."

Harry's voice lowered but came out softly. Like sweet notes in Earl's ears that promised his eternal nightmare to arrive. The man's rival speech didn't concern him that much... what frightened him the most was Harry's ability to uncover people's secrets so discreetly.

"What's for you to win? Why all this sudden bargaining?"

"I only justify my actions in the name of science. I am myself a hardworking and dedicated scientist. I work with people to figure out how society works, and trust me this one is quite complicated."

"You make me think that I've done a terrible mistake by hiring you mister Jaworski."

Earl responded through greeted teeth and tightened his grip around the chair's handles.

"Which leaves you no choice. Release her, and I'll make sure to escort her back to the electric chair in no time."

"I can't possibly-"

Harry cut him off before he had the time to finish his sentence. The man lifted his index finger up in the air to silence him and clenched his jaw.

"Would you prefer to lose this job Earl? If you get kicked out of this department... and when these rumors about your spread around, no sensible employer will ever hire you again. It will be all over."

Earl felt like he had no choice. If he handed him over those keys his career would be done already. His fear of losing his dignity and social status didn't give him the excuse to cover up a crime. But what would he become without his social status and self respect? He would be a piece of garbage. The blonde man swallowed hard and inhaled sharply. His shaky hands palpated the surface of his desk seeking for his pack of cigarettes. His eyes never left Harry's. He was afraid to blink, thinking that it would cost him the opportunity to prevent chaos before it occurred. He grabbed one cigarette and positioned it between his lips. He lit it up real quick and almost chocked at the sensation of the bitter smoke filling his mouth and entering his lungs.

"You're the kind of man who's not afraid to climb over people to get what you want in this business."

"This is how society works."

Harry returned with confidence and winked playfully only to tease him further. Earl inhaled one more bang from his cigarette to regain his composure even thought he felt like nothing could fix this. No drug, or alcoholic drink would be able to numb his guilts from now on. It would be just him fighting with his demons that would slowly devour him. He opened up the final drawer at his side and grabbed a set of keys. He removed one from the shiny chain and squeezed it in his palm before he decided to hand it over to the older man in surrender.

Harry accepted the small item gracefully and shoved it in his pocket.

"I shall carry your secret to the grave detective Earl."

"Leave my office!"

He snapped and his glossy blue eyes shot deathly daggers at him.

"Have a wonderful night detective. You better prepare the paperwork for the procedural process."

Harry chirped before he left the office and slammed the door closed behind him leaving Earl frozen on his chair staring at the blank wall in loss of words.

It was 8:30 when Rita stood tall outside the hotel room door. Her body still felt numb and sore, but the amount of liquid she had previously consumed didn't allow her to experience the pain she was suffocating for all these hours now. She gave up on her pride for once again and fell for the tricks of a man that took advantage of her fragile state. She wanted to laugh at the route things had taken.

Months ago, she would be the one using Scooter Polarksy for his body and excellent looks. She only considered him as a piece of meat who managed to satisfy her needs to the fullest when the rest of the men surrounding her failed to do so.

And now he was the one who got her drunk in first place, took advantage of her pained heart and offered her a night of passion that she would be unable to delete. She felt like a whore... after all these years of struggling to create a persona that would meet her standards she felt closer to her truest self than ever. She leaned against the door frame and pinched the bridge of her nose in an effort to fight the terrible headache that now took over. Scooter kicked her out of his penthouse the minute Annabetha reached the front door. He treated her exactly like the way she treated him every time Carlo came near to exposing her secret. She swallowed hard and tried to keep her gaze steady in order to unlock the door but her feet couldn't keep her steady.

She focused on the door lock only to see double. And when she tried to shove the key in the whole she almost stumbled on her feet when the hotel room door opened up wide open and revealed Grace's sleep deprived face. On her way "home" she had managed to come up with a perfectly good explanation to justify her disappearance but she couldn't remember any of it at this very moment. Grace grabbed her hands to steady her and her lips parted as she witnessed the woman's terrible state.

"What on earth did you do?"

Grace exclaimed in pure agony and dragged the woman in the room to give them both some privacy to speak. Rita remained silent. She leaned against the back of the couch and stared at the wooden floor processing her most recent mistake. To fall for the lies of the man she so much craved.

"Rita where the hell have you been?! It's been five hours! Five hours since you left and disappeared without giving me a further notice! A silly argument like the one we had after the appointment is no excuse to your childish behavior! You could have gotten hurt! Something bad could have happened and I would be unable to reach you!"

The blonde woman paced across the couch nervously and bit the tip of her long red fingernail. The conversation she shared with detective Rowbin didn't leave her apathetic. She found herself growing more anxious through the passage of time.

Rita hummed something in gibberish and held onto the back of the couch for dear life. She desperately tried to keep herself back from sinking to the ground.

"You're drunk."

Grace acknowledged and her comment made Rita finally look at her and husk.

"Isn't it ob-obvious?"

The brunette woman responded with a snarl and run her fingers through her long dark curls.

"Considering the way you look and the stench of alcohol surrounding you I'm gonna go with a strong yes."

Grace rolled her eyes and extended her hand for Rita to hold and stand.

"Wiseass."

"Spare me the sarcasm Rita. Where have you been?"

Grace insisted and lead them woman carefully to the couch in order for her to sit. The moment they both landed on the soft material the brunette let out a low grunt, leaned her head back and squinted her eyes closed.

"I'd rather forget but this goal is unattainable."

She murmured.

"What goal?"

Grace furrowed.

"The amount of alcohol I consumed wasn't enough to keep me from forgetting..."

"Did you see him?"

Grace slowly realized and her lips parted.

"I did."

Rita admitted. She found no use in lying considering that Grace would spend the rest of the night trying to fish for any further information. The blonde had become something like a bad itch. Rita couldn't get rid of her.

"Did you sleep with him?"

"You have a lovely way to put it."

Rita croaked and wet her lips that felt unusually dehydrated.

"What about his wife?"

"Oh- she returned! And he kicked me out like I was some kind of a whore!"

Grace's eyes immediately softened. She hesitantly extended her hand and took hold of Rita's. She held her gently in an effort to support her but not cross her boundaries at the same time. Alma made sure to share information about Rita's past profession with the ladies of the garden club. Grace wasn't shocked when she found out. She considered a woman like Rita capable of absolutely everything, but now that she heard the woman saying it with so much sorrow in her voice she felt her heart break for her.

"You're not that person anymore... you've progressed."

"How?"

The woman shot her an angry glare and withdrew from her grasp. Before Grace had the chance to justify her words the brunette continued.

"I've only progressed towards a worse aspect of this career path. And now look at me! I've lost everything Grace, I'm only getting worse, I never learn."

"You're not all bad. I've seen you making some progress Rita. You're not ruthless, you're anything but ruthless and evil. You seriously have to trust me on this one."

"How do you kn-ow?"

She croaked again and closed her eyes as the room began to spin faster. Her lips drew back as the sense of nausea took over and sent goosebumps all the way down her legs.

"You've learned to accept your mistakes. I've witnessed you judge yourself in a way you never did. You wouldn't have been able to do that if you were still blinded by glory. People do change Rita..."

She gave the woman a supportive smile but the brunette jolted back on the couch all of a sudden and pushed herself up on her legs. She rushed in the bathroom with as much grace she had left in her body. Panting, Rita grabbed the edge of the toilet seat with white knuckles before leaning forward and pushing strongly to alleviate the intense pressure as the overwhelming urge goaded her on. She felt breathless. She fell back on her knees struggling to breathe when Grace rushed in the bathroom and kneeled down next to her. She held her hair back and her free hand cupped the woman's cheek and caressed it softly to confront her.

The brunette inhaled sharply and a muffled cry escaped her trembling lips. Grace shushed her and proceeded to grab a white towel and put it under the faucet allowing a few drops of cool water to dampen the thick fabric. She pressed the towel against Rita's forehead and the woman fell back in her arms in surrender.

"The aftermath is never exciting."

Grace chuckled lightly to break the ice and Rita nodded her head slightly.

"You'll make it through, like you always do. I can assure you."

"I can't... not this time."

"Why not?"

"Because I'm afraid Grace. A woman not driven by sheer will and confidence is doomed to fail."

"I think not."

Grace smiled and run her fingers through dark strays of hair.

"Explain yourself."

"Some other time. When you'll be less intoxicated."

Grace reassured her and helped her stand on her feet. They slowly paced towards the bedroom where Grace helped the woman make herself comfortable under the satin covers.

It was around 10:30 when Harry Jaworski paced triumphantly towards the vast mansion. The first thing he noticed right across the tall gates was a parked white Chrysler. He thought that the owner should be the one and only Katherine Castillo. He walked past the silver gate, paced amongst the flowers of the well groomed garden and reached the tall white entrance door. He gathered his thoughts quickly and knocked. He waited for a couple of seconds that felt like an eternity. No matter how well he had managed to cover his real identity, he found himself nervous at times. What if someone recognized him? The city was much bigger than the small city of Galveston. He checked on his wrist watch when the front door opened up and Katherine's figure appeared hesitantly.

The older woman had her hair up into a tight bun, her face was clean and makeup free, and her attire only indicated that she was either previously sleeping, or that she was planning to go to bed soon. She was only wearing a green velvet robe that reached the height of her knees. She looked at the strange man curiously and tilted her head to the side.

"Is there anything that I can do for you Mister?"

Her gravy voice came out hoarse and aloof.

Harry nodded his head positively and folded his hands under his chest.

"You must be certainly Miss Katherine Castillo."

He grinned and Katherine's curiousness grew bigger.

"What's your name?"

"Harry. Harry Jaworski."

"And what are you doing in my front door in the middle of the night Mister Jaworski? Do we know each other?"

Her dark eyes narrowed and examined him. He didn't look familiar but something about him seemed familiar to her. His name didn't seem to ring a bell to her at that very moment.

"No we don't. I know many things about you, but I'm only interested in one."

Katherine husked and leaned on the door frame. Under different circumstances, a woman like her, shouldn't be chatting with a complete stranger in the middle of the night. She should be worried over her well being, he could have a gun. But fortunately for her, the amount of staff working in her mansion wouldn't allow anything bad happening to her. Especially when she paid them well and offered them all the proper equipment to defend themselves or her in times of danger.

"What would that be?"

"Miss Rita Castillo."

"Isn't that whore dead already?"

She spatted and her eyes doubled in size at his reveal.

"Apparently not. Do you want her dead?"

He lifted a thick dark brow questioning the innocent look that appeared on her face. She took a step back, probably in order to defend herself. Rita's case was closed ever since they captured Alma and the woman admitted her sins. Catherine was safe, the police never came looking for her answers to the topic. To them, she was just the rich heir of her father that appeared as the victim. And she still considered herself as the victim of that ratchet game of power.

"Do you?"

She exclaimed and tried to connect the dots. He was the first one that appeared to her household asking a lady all of these indiscreet questions. He remained so confident and calm throughout their chat that she became more nervous.

"Are we being honest here?"

He asked.

"You came to me. I expect some honesty."

"Then yes. As long as we have the same goal, we are good to proceed."

"I never admitted anything."

She returned and her lips parted.

"You don't have to speak the truth darling."

"What are you? Are you a lawyer?"

She gasped and looked behind her for any sign of her maid roaming the living room. She would need her assistance if things came to that.

"I'm nothing like those scambags."

He smirked proudly.

"Then what do you want from me?"

"I need your services and collaboration."

"For what?"

"To end her for good."

She narrowed her eyes at his answer and then she realized. Harry Jaworski… his name replayed in her thoughts seeking for the source that would reveal to her the truth. She knew that name. She read about him. And then she managed to recall the very day of her introduction to the man's identity.

Isabelle's letter was quite descriptive. That old lady didn't hesitate to reveal his full identity during her exchange of letters with Rita back then. The man was supposed to be dead. Isabelle had admitted killing him right?

"I see… You and Mrs. Castillo have something in common I assume."

She admitted and held the door open for him to make himself comfortable in her living room.

"What would that be except our common past?"

"Your ability to come back from the dead."

She returned and wrapped her fingers around the belt of her robe. She walked towards the white bar at the corner of the entrance and grabbed two empty glasses that would soon be full of bourbon.

"Quite a charming attribute, am I correct?"

"Allow me to disagree."

She handed him his drink and took a seat down across him. She crossed her legs and tugged her robe between her thighs.

"Explain yourself."

"When the police revealed that my papa's death was Alma's doing I didn't feel any remorse for my actions towards Rita. Do not get me wrong, but she deserved to be unhappy. She is no better than Alma, you and me or anyone with a dirty criminal record. She should be dead."

"It looks like we agree."

"What's your motive? Isabelle didn't seem to be willing to write about it."

"Isabelle… where is that old bitch?"

"Dead."

Katherine revealed and Harry's smile broadened.

"Good riddance."

He husked.

"What's your motive Harry?"

She insisted and sipped her drink but never broke eye contact. She knew how much dangerous that man was against a woman, and she wasn't planning to leave him from her sight.

"For the old time's sake."

"Liar."

"All people lie."

He grinned and sipped his drink.

"What's the plan then?"

Katherine returned the grin and waited impatiently…