"I'm just not a 'kiss and tell' kind of guy."
"So, you did kiss her," Sam replied, starting to wonder if he would ever get the truth out of his friend.
"I'm also not a 'not kiss and tell' kind of guy. You should give it a rest."
Though his words sounded of frustration, the truth was Lucas was in a great mood that morning. He had dreamed of Tilly the previous night- a dream that had stayed with him in his waking hours. Their kisses had been all he could think about. And now, he and Sam were on their way to pick up Lucas's tuxedo for the ball.
"You are supposed to tell your best friend everything," Sam said as they walked down the Manhattan sidewalk. Suddenly, he stopped. "Or maybe I'm not your best friend," he said, stopping and looking at Lucas, who simply looked back at him and rolled his eyes before again picking up pace. "That must be it. It's alright, I'm not offended."
The words were said with a pretend huff, bringing a smile to Lucas's face. He hadn't given it any thought, but in his life since the amnesia, Sam was definitely his closest companion. They were, in many ways, opposites, but he was a good man and a good friend. Had he ever had a best friend before? A moment of sadness briefly caused him to grow sullen as he wondered about his past.
"And now you are frowning," Peterson said, interrupting his thoughts. "Did you two have a fight?"
Bouchard let out a sigh, and Peterson continued, "You did. I can tell. It must not have been too bad, though, since we are picking up your tuxedo. She was awfully upset when she left the library, so something turned that around."
"Has anyone ever told you that you talk too much?" Lucas asked as they crossed the street.
"All the time." Snapping his fingers, he continued, "I know! You had a fight and then made up with a kiss."
The unending barrage of ideas about Lucas's love life finally brought a laugh. "You're tenacious, I'll give you that," he said, slapping Sam's shoulder as they arrived at the Raptis Tailors.
"Come out and let me see."
"No."
"No? Nathan, we are attending a ball, and you will be wearing this in front of a multitude of people. I'm your wife. Now let me see what you look like."
"Jenny, maybe this was a bad idea." His words were a bit muffled through the tailor shop's dressing room door, but Jenny could make them out. She was beginning to get irritated. Glancing at the owner, Matteo Raptis, she took a deep breath.
"Nathan Grant, you march yourself out here and show me your tuxedo."
Finally, the knob turned, and her husband slowly emerged from the small room. Jenny stepped back and let out a small gasp as her towering husband walked out in black tie and tails. "Oh, Nathan! You look wonderful."
"Wonderful? In this monkey suit?" He replied as he tugged on the neck of his shirt. "Do I have to wear this bow tie?"
Her hands went to her hips as his wife replied. "Well, of course, you do, silly man. You look splendid."
Grant took a deep breath. "Good. Can I go change now?"
Raptis walked over and examined him, nodding. "It's a perfect fit. I was concerned because you are one of my taller customers, but the cuff length and the trousers – they're perfect."
"Good," Nathan responded again, disappearing back into the changing area.
"Is he always this difficult?" The man asked Jenny with a puzzled expression.
"You have no idea," she replied as she stared at the closed door. Moments later, he exited in his regular clothes.
"I'll get this packaged up for you right away, Mr. Grant," Raptis said as he took the hangers from Grant.
Jenny picked up a seersucker jacket and held it up to her husband. He immediately raised an eyebrow and then shook his head no. Undeterred, she continued to shop while they waited. "I've seen several flyers posted across town," she said as Grant took a look at his watch.
"Yeah. The Pinkerton's are all over this. And the NYPD is looking also." Nathan spoke softly, knowing how concerned his wife was about her brother. "If he's here, we will find him," he added, gently taking her hand in his.
"I hope you're right. I can't help but wonder what he has been doing all this time."
Lucas and Sam walked up to the door at the tailor shop and were about to go in when Lucas stopped, his hand on the door handle. "Wait!"
"Wait, what?" Sam responded. "What's wrong?"
"I need to get Tilly a gift."
"Now? I thought we were going in."
Lucas looked in the window and saw Matteo Raptis packaging Nathan's tuxedo and shook his head. "He's got a customer. We'll just be a minute."
"Okay," Sam replied. "You're the boss." He raised his eyebrows. "A gift, huh? This is starting to sound like a date," he grinned.
Lucas turned away from the shop and began walking the other way. "There is a little specialty shop around the corner. It has some unique pieces of jewelry there."
"Well, hello! Jewelry? Definitely a date."
Lucas sighed as Sam continued. "That must have been some kiss..."
Sam chuckled at Lucas's slight eye roll.
"Are we back to that again? I was thinking of maybe a comb for her hair or perhaps a bracelet. Something with a bit of sparkle."
The two reached the corner and were about to turn when Lucas looked back at his friend and then over Sam's shoulder. Sam continued to walk, but Lucas stopped in his tracks and watched a tall, slender man exit the tailor shop with a dark-haired woman. As they walked the other way, Sam finally noticed that Lucas was motionless and came back to him.
"Ly! Are you coming, or do you want me to pick something out for your girlfriend?"
"I thought I saw..."
"You saw?"
"I thought I saw….something. Never mind." Shaking his head as the couple turned a corner and disappeared, he looked at Sam. "And, who said she was my girlfriend?" he asked as they continued on their way.
Tilly stood in front of the mirror, nervously smoothing down the bodice of a dress that she had loved from the moment she saw it but had kept hidden in her closet ever since an inebriated Michael had told her it made her look cheap, causing her to cry.
Prior to the war, Tilly's relationship with Michael had been formal and cordial, just as one would expect of an arranged marriage-to-be between the daughter of a king and one of Europe's wealthiest nobles. But afterward, it was anything but. After being released from the hospital, Michael's fighting days were over, so he turned the fight to her. He was verbally abusive to Tilly and controlling of her – demanding to be aware of everything she did at every moment of the day and forcing her to say goodbye to almost all of her single male companions. It was an awful period, and Tilly was miserable at the thought of marrying him, but she hid it from her parents because the pressure they were under following the war, especially with the Bolshevik influence in their country, was immense, and she did not wish to add to their burden.
And then a miracle happened – the dress. Tilly's brother Gregori saw her tears after the incident and forced her to tell him what happened. He then went to Michael personally to discuss it. She was never sure what was said to him, but Michael soon went to the king and announced that he was moving to Spain and would not be marrying Tilly. The king was not pleased but, again, was too tied up in political pressures to pursue such a controversy and released him from the arrangement. Within weeks of Michael's move, the man married Dona Sancha Hernandez, an heiress in her own right. That was the last she heard from her would-be-fiancé, though she later heard that his relationship with Hernandez began well before his breakup with her. She had dodged a bullet, that was for sure, and it all started with this dress. She never did tell her parents about what actually happened with Michael, even though she saw worry in her mother's eyes. But it was enough for her to know that Gregori knew. With that, she knew she wasn't alone.
"Found it!"
Sophia Falkenberg entered Tilly's bedroom without knocking, breaking Tilly away from her musings.
"Thank you!" she said as the woman raised a handbag up to show her, one that matched Tilly's outfit. "Are you sure this doesn't look too tawdry?"
"For the twentieth time, yes, I'm sure. You look lovely and sophisticated, and if that Lionel doesn't swoon over you when you come downstairs, he's not worth having." Tilly still sensed some caution in the older woman's voice where Lucas was concerned, given his lack of a history, but she also knew she was warming to him.
Tilly smiled. "Thank you, Sophia. I do hope he's pleased."
"He will be. How could he not be? You're adorable," she responded. "Run along, now. You mustn't be late for the play."
A few minutes before it was time to go, Lucas stood at the foot of the steps, adjusting his tie for the thirteenth time and rehearsing in his mind how he planned to ask Tilly out for dinner after the play. On his recent excursion along the island, he discovered a small French restaurant near Smithtown Bay that seemed to have just the right ambiance for a date.
A date. That's what this was, wasn't it? He thought to himself, considering the fact that he was, in fact, planning on courting Tilly despite any misgivings about his past. He still struggled with the risk but couldn't help moving forward due to the strength of his feelings. I couldn't be married. He thought. I would remember a wife, surely. I don't feel married. Nor do I feel guilt that I might be being unfaithful to another. But who was the woman? And why do I still feel drawn to her and her son?
Before Lucas could carry those thoughts any further, he heard footsteps on the stairwell next to him. Turning, he literally felt his heart begin to race and all of the thoughts of anyone or anything else went scurrying out of his mind. She was….
"Stunning!" he said raspily, his eyes roaming as he looked her up and down before returning to her face.
"Thank you," she said softly. "You don't think it's too risqué?" she asked, turning around and unveiling a back that dipped sweetly low, revealing her soft ivory skin that just begged to be touched.
Lucas swallowed, fighting a primal urge that he hadn't felt this strongly since….well, maybe since ever, and then hearing the voice of his father speak, although he could not picture him in his mind,
"Son, you must always treat a lady like a lady and endeavor to be a gentleman worthy of her trust."
He cleared his throat. "No, you look….you…" He looked down. "I'm afraid I can't find the words other than to say you're beautiful, Tilly." He looked up into her eyes. "And I'm very honored to be your date tonight."
She smiled. "Then this is a date?"
His heart sped up. Here it is, the moment of truth. "Only if you want it to be." He waited anxiously for her response and inhaled sharply as she stepped closer to him. She placed her hand on the back of his neck and then closed the gap between them, giving him a soft kiss next to his mouth.
"I would love nothing more."
Bouchard felt a silly grin grow on his face and he just stood there gazing at her, enjoying her beauty, her smell, her warmth.
"Perhaps we should be going?" she said, looking toward the door where Thomas was waiting to drive them.
"Yes," he replied, offering her his arm, "We mustn't be late."
"Now, stick close to me," Nathan said, taking Jenny's hand as they entered the theater a full forty minutes before showtime.
"Really, Nathan. You worry too much."
"About you, yes, I do," he replied.
"You don't need to. I can take care of myself."
"Listen, Jenny. I have no doubt you can take care of yourself. You've done so all of your life, but you are a beautiful woman, my beautiful woman, in a strange city, and there are all these people…."
Jenny stopped in the middle of the foyer, her eyes scanning the tall ceilings and long hallways gilt with wood and gold.
"What is it? Is something wrong?" Nathan asked, seeing his wife was going nowhere.
"Golly, Nathan! It's so grand!"
Grant looked around, then tilted his head, squinting his eyes. "You've never been in a theater like this before?"
"Not exactly," she said. "Mother and Father took Lucas and me to the circus when I was a little girl, and there was a time when I was a young child with the Drakes that Lydia would sneak David and me off to see a play or concert in one of the small Canadian towns, but they were nothing like this."
Nathan grinned. "Then that makes two of us."
Jenny's eyes widened. "You too?!"
Grant shrugged. "Rock Creek was kind of far from civilization when I was growing up, and we didn't really have the money for entertainment."
"So, it's new for us both," she said, squeezing his arm.
"I guess it is."
"How exciting!" she smiled, bouncing up and down on her heels.
Just then, an usher walked up to the couple, noticing the particular color ticket in Nathan's hands.
"May I help you, sir…madam….?" He asked.
Grant handed him the tickets. "How would we get to our seats?"
The man looked at the ticket and nodded. "Right this way."
The Garrick Theater held over 900 seats and was in the heart of Manhattan. However, it wasn't particularly fancy by Broadway standards. Still, it had staged a number of notable plays and was a noteworthy venue for George Bernard Shaw to showcase his latest work. It had a balcony but no box seats like those found in the grander theaters and opera houses, but that was just fine. Nathan and Jenny didn't know the difference as their eyes took in the atmosphere surrounding them.
As the couple were brought to their seats in the first row of the balcony, looking down at the stage directly below them, Lucas and Tilly found their seats.
"I hope this is okay. I mean, it's pretty far back," Lucas said, concerned Tilly wouldn't enjoy the play because she couldn't see the show.
"It's fine," she replied. "I actually prefer it rather than being up in some fancy seat away from everyone else. It's an entirely different feeling."
Bouchard nodded. "Well, you can switch seats with me if that one is not okay."
She took his hand. "Lionel, sit down. You worry too much."
Lucas sat in his seat, looking around, taking in the landscape. "It's larger than it looks from the outside," he said, fidgeting in his seat. "It must sit at least five hundred."
Tilly nodded. "Probably more like nine hundred or a thousand."
Lucas raised his eyebrows. "Really?"
She turned and looked around, then squinted as she calculated. "Nine hundred."
"How do you know?"
"My mother was always quite active in state events and planning them and used to bring me along as well so I could learn what to do."
"And knowing how many seats were in a venue was part of that?"
She tilted her head back and forth. "Truthfully, the planning usually didn't take much time at all for Mother, and once she was done, the wives of the various dignitaries that we entertained and she would get into the most tiresome conversations. As a fifteen-year-old, I found it all so very boring."
He smiled. "And so, you counted seats."
She nodded. "Seats, and measuring spaces, and then some daydreaming."
"About what?"
"Being someplace like this….with you." Tilly reached her hand over and placed it on Lucas's thigh, and he studied her. Smiling, he put his large hand over the top of hers and then kissed her fingers, laying her hand back down on his thigh, firmly clasped in his while they waited for the play to begin.
The lights dimmed, and both couples leaned into each other. Nathan wrapped his arm possessively around his wife, and Lucas and Tilly held hands, her head on his shoulder and his cheek on her head. Occasionally, when she would laugh, Lucas's heart would feel so happy that he would kiss the top of her head or lift her hand to his mouth and place one there. It felt wonderful just being by her side.
At intermission, the lights came up, and Tilly turned to Lucas and smiled.
"Lionel, this is all so fabulous. I'm so happy that Sam got us the tickets. Aren't you?"
"Indeed," Lucas said. "But I must confess, I do not want this evening to end. Would you like to perhaps accompany me after the play to dinner? There's a quiet spot on Long Island that I discovered near the beach, and I would like to take you there."
She smiled broadly and squeezed his hand in both of hers. "I would love to."
He smiled, and the two leaned forward and kissed.
A few minutes later, Bouchard decided to stretch his legs and pick up some refreshments for them while she went to the powder room. Tilly entered the room and immediately checked her makeup. She usually didn't wear much, but given the deep hue of her dress knew that she'd look like a ghost without it, so she wore more that day – hoping that she didn't look clownish to Lucas. Of course, she didn't. She was beautiful. But old insecurities died hard.
"What a beautiful dress!"
Tilly had been washing her hands and thought the woman's voice behind her was talking to someone else until the beautiful brunette with jade-green eyes touched her shoulder.
"May I ask where you purchased it?"
Tilly looked at her with surprise and smiled. "This? Oh, it was custom-made in Europe."
Jenny smiled at her. "I see. And that's where you're from? I, um…noticed your accent."
Tilly nodded. "Yes. I'm from a small country called Dashma."
Jenny nodded. "Oh, I've heard of that. It's in the Baltic region, correct?"
"That's right."
"I knew I remembered it. My son, Luke, and I learned about it when we were studying his geography lessons." Jenny reached into her purse and pulled out a photograph. "See, here he is."
Tilly looked at a more recent photograph Jenny had taken with Luke and Jo after being reunited with her parents. The image showed the two children, herself, and Martin and Helen Bouchard.
"Are both of them your children?" she asked.
"Yes. Lucas Martin and Josephine Helen. They are something else."
"And their father?" Tilly asked, noticing the diamond ring on Jenny's hand but not seeing a husband in the image.
Jenny lowered her head. "He's gone."
"I'm sorry," Tilly replied, reaching out and touching her arm.
Jenny looked down at the photo. "Life can be difficult, but then there are the blessings."
Tilly smiled, thinking about what drove her to America in the first place and the blessing of having met Lucas. "This is true. I didn't catch your name."
"Jenny, you can call me Jenny."
"Jenny. My name is Tilly."
A bell rang in the hallway, letting the audience know that the show was soon to resume.
"I'm pleased to meet you, Tilly! I'd better be going. Don't want to miss the second act."
"I am pleased to have met you as well. Enjoy!"
Nathan washed his hands and then exited the men's room, adjusting his cuffs as he waited for his wife to exit the room. As he stood there, he began to look around, his eyes finally settling on the back of a man at the other end of the hallway - a man with dark hair and a build similar to….It couldn't be.
"Excuse me…."
Tilly brushed past Grant and continued walking toward her date. As she traveled in that direction, audience members scurried across Nathan's line of vision, blocking his view toward Lucas. Bouchard had just paid the cashier for a couple of drinks, and Nathan strained to try to get a better look. He almost had it when a hand touched his arm.
"Are you ready to go back upstairs?" Jenny asked, startling Nathan.
"What?" he asked. "Oh, oh…yeah."
She furrowed her brow. "What is it? Is something wrong?"
Nathan turned his head toward where Lucas was standing just in time to see Tilly and Lucas walking back into the theater together, their backs toward him. He saw from afar Bouchard kiss the top of Tilly's head before they disappeared, but he again did not see his face.
"Nathan?"
Grant turned toward his wife. "Um…no. Everything is fine. I just thought I saw something, but I guess not."
"I see," she replied. "Well, let's go back to our seats before they turn the lights out, and we won't be able to see where we are going."
"Sure. You were in there a little while. Everything okay with you?"
"Splendid. You know I met this beautiful woman in there in a red dress…"
There were no more near encounters between the couples that evening, and after the play, Jenny and Nathan ate at a restaurant further in town while Lucas had their driver take him and Tilly to a quaint little place by the seashore on the North end of Long Island. The two discussed the play and then took their shoes off and strolled along the sandy coastline.
"You know you are going to have to save me a dance tomorrow night," Lucas said.
"Save you a dance?" she asked. "I thought we'd be dancing exclusively."
He grinned. "But you will be on duty," he said. "And I'm sure there will be no shortage of men vying for your attention. I don't mind. It comes with the territory. I just ask that you save the last dance for me."
She hugged his arm. "I'm certain you are overestimating my appeal."
He stopped and looked at her, brushing the back of his fingers over her cheek underneath the glow of moonlight and a nearby lighthouse. "And I am certain I am not. Tilly, you have no idea how beautiful you are – inside and out. You're mesmerizing. Bewitching."
She cast her eyes down, but he immediately raised her chin up again with a gentle touch of his fingers.
"I believe we could have something special here," he said. "I know we need to take things slowly, but the truth of the matter is that I already feel like I have known you my entire life and can't imagine being without you."
She smiled gently, then stepped closer to him, touching his face. "I feel the same about you. Throughout my life, I have learned to distrust people. But there is none of that here. We just seem to…."
"Fit," he finished. "Yes, we do." He leaned forward and kissed her, and for several long seconds, the pair became lost entirely in each other. For Lucas, there was no feeling of guilt or trepidation. There was only safety in her arms.
They took a walk along the beach hand in hand, watching the waves roll in. Sitting down in the sand, Lucas wrapped his strong arms around her shoulders and kissed her gently, and they were content. Later, a distant tugboat sounded its whistle, and immediately, Lucas had another flash of memory. Tilly noticed the change in his demeanor.
"Lionel?"
He looked at her and smiled. "I just remembered something from my childhood."
"Really?" she said, sitting up and giving him her full attention.
"Yes. I was just a boy, maybe ten years old, and we were somewhere warm. We were near some fishing vessels."
"We?"
"Yes. I was with some other people; I believe they were my parents, though I seemed to be the only child. I believe we were visiting someone."
Tilly frowned as it sounded lonely.
"It was someplace warm because people were fanning themselves, and I stepped away from my parents toward this dock. The fishermen had a trap full of mudbugs sitting on a dock."
"Mudbugs? I have not heard that term."
Lucas thought for a moment. It wasn't necessarily commonly used, except in one place. He looked toward Tilly. "A mudbug is the same as a crawfish or crayfish. Sometimes, they are called crawdads, too. But they are mudbugs to the locals in - Louisiana. Tilly, I think I've lived in Louisiana before, somewhere near New Orleans."
Tilly's eyes grew wide. "Lionel, really? Are you sure?"
He shook his head. "Yes. I'd be willing to bet on it…" Immediately, another thought came to mind; it was of him playing poker. He tilted his head as the memory flooded in, then he laughed. "Oh, my."
"What? What is it?"
He looked at her warily, then swallowed. "I'm not sure that you want to know."
Tilly looked incredulous and then shoved him. "Of course, I want to know! What is it?"
He lowered his chin and then looked at her. "Alright. When I said I'd bet on it, I saw myself at a card table playing poker. I believe I was quite good at it, in fact, and…well…" he scrunched his nose. "I may have been good enough to make a living at it for a time."
She raised her eyebrows. "You were a professional gambler?"
He shrugged. "Maybe. I think so. Are you disappointed?"
She sat back. "N…no," she replied. "Just a little surprised."
"How so?"
"Because you have such a good mind for business. Ari has even remarked on how good your instincts seem to be. Surely that wasn't all you did."
Lucas considered the thought. "No, you are right. It wasn't all. But I do think it was part of what I did in my past, and I enjoyed doing it."
"Well, I'm sure you were an honest gambler. I wouldn't expect you to be any other way."
He nodded. "I can't imagine cheating…except once. I think I cheated once. But it was for a good cause."
"Which was?"
He closed his eyes. "I'm afraid I can't remember. It's gone."
Tilly sighed. "I'm sorry. But it's wonderful you remembered some things. It's all coming back."
"Slowly but surely," he replied. "It certainly is. It's getting pretty chilly out. Would you like to go back now?"
Tilly smiled. "This is nothing. You should see what Winter is like in Dashma."
"Oh, yeah?"
"Yes. In fact….are you up for a challenge?"
Lucas furrowed his brow and tilted his head. "I…suppose…so."
And with that, Tilly kicked off her shoes and ran knee-deep into the chilly waters off Long Island Sound.
"Come on in! It's fine!"
Lucas raised his eyebrows. "Me? In there?"
She laughed. "Unless you're afraid."
Bouchard took off his jacket and laid his pocket watch on top then kicked off his shoes.
"Hurry up! A little water isn't going to hurt you."
He shook his head. "It might hurt this suit, though, and I don't have the wherewithal to replace it at the present moment." A minute later, Lucas tiptoed across the narrow sand toward the water, immediately recoiling the moment a wave touched his toes.
Tilly laughed. "Don't be such a baby."
Lucas threw her a look, then took a deep breath, walking as fast as he could toward her despite the fact the water was so cold that it physically hurt to walk through it. Still, he stayed at water's edge, not willing to go any further than ankle-deep.
"Okay. I passed the challenge. Do we go now?"
Tilly grinned broadly. "Only if you can catch me."
"Tilly!"
She bent down, scooped some water in her hands, and tossed it on him, and he narrowed his eyes as she began to run.
"You are certifiably insane, you know…." He said, giving chase through the water, expecting to catch up with her at an outcrop of rock at the end of the beach. All the while, he went no further than ankle deep, but he kept pace with his lady.
When she reached the rocks, he put his hands on his hips, knowing she was cornered.
"Give up," he said. "You are vanquished."
Tilly looked around and then decided to go around the rocks, much to Lucas's consternation.
"Now, Tilly…this is far enough. You're going to get sick if you…"
Suddenly, she slipped on the mossy rocks and screamed. Falling into the water which went over her head. She began splashing with frantic motions. "Lionel! Help!" Her head went under again.
His eyes widened. "Tilly!" He ran out into the water, ignoring the chill around him. All he could think was to save her. "Hold on, darling. I'm coming."
"Li…." Her head went under again.
Lucas's heart was pounding as he finally made it to the rocks. "I'm coming," he said as he ventured deeper, calf length, knee length, lower thigh. Finally, he turned the corner by the outcrop where Tilly was and leaned forward, reaching out his hand to save her. She grabbed onto it and then easily pulled him down with her into water no more than three feet deep.
Lucas was shocked, stunned, and a bit angry. "You!"
She laughed. "See, it's not so bad."
"I thought you were drowning!"
"Well, I did fall."
"Into three feet of water!" he replied. "I thought you were in trouble….I thought I might…thought…." A pained expression appeared on his face, and Tilly realized that tears were beginning to form. She had gone too far.
Lucas turned and walked back toward the restaurant, not even feeling his soaked clothing, which was clinging to his body.
Tilly rushed out of the water after him. "Lionel…Lionel wait. I'm sorry! I didn't mean to scare you."
Lucas continued to walk.
"Oh, dear," she said as she reached his shoes. "Don't you want your shoes and jacket?" He didn't answer, so she grabbed them and ran to catch up with him.
"Please talk with me," she said. "Lionel, I apologize. This is scaring me. Please say something."
Finally, he stopped. "I was afraid I was going to lose you, and it dawned on me that it has happened before. It was a feeling that I was familiar with, and I felt…..I felt it ripping me asunder."
She gasped. "Oh, Lionel!"
She reached forward to touch him, but he resisted her. Seeing the pain in her eyes, he took his jacket from her and wrapped it around her shoulders, then put his arm around her. "Let's just go."
The ride home was quiet as the soaking wet couple sat in the back of a cab, Lucas's arm protectively wrapped around her and Tilly resting her head against his shoulder. She felt terribly guilty to have scared him, knowing instinctively that despite what a gentleman he was at present, he was truly terrified over her. And she wanted more than anything to make it up to him, to hold him in her arms to apologize again. But she didn't. She just sat there. And when the cab pulled up outside of the estate and they got out of the car, she looked at her mess of a dress and frowned. For a first date, it had started out well but had then turned terribly wrong. And it was all her fault.
She stood as Lucas paid the cab and gave her a gentle smile. "We best get inside and put on something warm."
She nodded. Walking inside, the two were quiet because they knew it was late but there was a light on in the library. Slowly, they walked in that direction and then turned the corner together. Tilly immediately stopped.
Standing by the fireplace, drinking a glass of brandy, was a tall man with blond hair in a fine suit. He turned when they walked in, giving her a once-over with his eyes, and then, with a smirk on his face, he stepped forward.
"Ottillia, you've finally gotten home. I was beginning to worry something had happened to you."
Lucas looked at her with confusion, but she stared straight ahead.
"Michael," she said, swallowing. "What are you doing here?"
Michael rushed over to her. "My dear, what has happened to you? What have you done to her?" he asked, turning toward Lucas.
"What have I –?"
Michael put his hands on Tilly's arms, and she shrugged them off, walking to Lucas's side. "I'll ask again, Michael. What are you doing here? Shouldn't you be with your wife?"
The man backed up. "I have no wife – or at least, won't have once the annulment goes through, which should be in another month."
"What has that to do with Tilly?" Lucas asked, eyeing the man suspiciously.
Michael smirked. "I don't believe we've met. Michael Melrose, of the Melroses of Kent, the man Ottilia was promised to marry. And you are?"
"Lionel. Tilly's beau."
Tilly smiled and then looped her arm through Lucas's. "You still haven't said why you're here."
"Lionel, what?"
"Answer the lady."
Melrose stepped away, walking toward the fireplace. "I'm in town on business for your father. I spoke to him of my situation and of the unfaithfulness of Sancha to our vows, and he completely understood. He has agreed that I should accompany you to Armistice Ball."
Tilly furrowed her brow. "But I already have a date."
"Then break it. The king has agreed," Michael replied. "He would like to reestablish relations between our families. I have made some very beneficial business connections that can help him manage Dashma's resources. It's essential for the war effort that your family is trying to survive. You wouldn't want to be seen as not supporting the kingdom while you are living on this Island retreat. Besides, I'm sure Lionel will understand, be a gentleman, and step aside."
Lucas looked at Tilly, who appeared disturbed and conflicted.
"Tilly is free to do whatever she needs to," he said. "I will still be here."
Looking up at him, Tilly saw Lucas's gentle eyes with a childlike goodness therein that it almost broke her heart. She smiled up at him softly, then turned to Michael. "Then it's decided."
Michael smiled, and Lucas tried to school his disappointment into neutrality.
"I had already arranged who I would be going to the ball with, and I'm not going to change that. Being with whom I wish to be should not affect any matter of state, nor is it a sign of lacking support."
"Ottlia."
"Furthermore, if you have an issue with that, then I shall speak to Father further about the real reasons we did not last. I'm certain his conversation with your parents would be difficult, but you made your choices, and I have made mine. The answer is no."
Michael pursed his lips. "Of course. I understand. But I was going through a difficult time back then after the war and would like to sometime have the chance to explain…"
"No explanation is necessary, nor is it desired. Now, if you'll excuse us, we need to get out of these wet clothes before we catch a cold. Good evening."
Lucas glared at Michael with both triumph and warning, even as his heart lept within him at Tilly's response. One of the wealthiest men in Europe wanted to be her date, and she chose him instead. He was full of joy.
After they left, Melrose downed his drink and then made his way to the telephone. As a business associate of Ari's, his hosts allowed him to stay in the library to await Tilly's return, and therefore he had somewhat free reign to the house. Picking up the line, he placed a call back to his hotel, one that was quickly received.
"Yeah. I'm done. You can send a car," he said, looking around the room of his colleague's house and admiring its opulence. "It went as we thought it would. She's stubborn as always, but I will control that once we are wed. But there's been a complication. Yes, I know that time is of the essence, and I'm working it – but there's this man named Lionel. He wouldn't give me his last name – Barrymore, for all I know. Yes, well, I need you to find out who he is and what he's doing around her, fast. The last thing we need is for her to fall for someone local and ruin our plans….what? Got it. Hey, don't worry. Her inheritance is still fully intact, and her father is fully on board. We just have a little impediment to progress that, if you do your job, should amount to nothing."
The next day, things were hectic. Lucas and Tilly had breakfast together with Annie and the Falkenbergs, and then the entire house exploded with energy as they finished preparations for the Armistice Ball that evening. Tilly had several official calls to make associated with the crown's work in America and Lucas had his own errands to run. But first, he went to his room.
Taking the hanger from the closet, Lucas lay his tuxedo across the bed, brushing away a bit of lint that had somehow collected on the pants leg. Pulling the watch from his pocket, he checked the time and then walked to the mirror. He still had several hours.
Smoothing his hair and straightening his tie, Bouchard left his bedroom and went downstairs.
"Where are you going, Mr. Lionel?" The sweet voice caught his attention as he turned toward Annie. "Aren't you going to get ready for the ball?"
Walking over to the girl, Lucas knelt in front of her. "I am indeed, but I have someplace to go first."
Dramatically looking back and forth to make sure they were alone, Annie leaned in and whispered. "Aren't you going to get Aunt Tilly some flowers? She really likes flowers."
A smile and slight snicker escaped Lucas as he put his hand on Annie's shoulder. "That's a wonderful idea. I will do that while I am out. Thank you for the reminder. Mum's the word," he said, putting his finger to his lips. No sense in telling the girl he had already ordered a red and white corsage and was going to pick it up.
Tilly had given him little indication of what she would be wearing other than it was a light blue with sparkling beads. She had loved the antique locket that Lucas had purchased for her from the specialty shop prior to the play, especially the photo of the two of them together that he placed inside. She said she would wear it tonight 'just for him.' He had to admit to himself that he was eager to see her in her new gown. She looked stunning when they went to the theater, and he could only imagine what she would wear that night.
Michael was getting ready as well, as he still intended on going, and was surprised and annoyed when his right hand man, Sid Payne, returned with the news that Tilly's houseguest was named Lionel Berrymore.
"Has she turned idiotic? Of course, that's not his real name. I want you to find out what it is so we can stop this fraud in his tracks. She was promised to me since birth. Some confidence man is not going to take what is rightfully mine."
Lucas hopped into the passenger's seat of one of the delivery trucks for the event and rode back into town with them. It saved him some fare and, given the vendor spoke little English, allowed him time to think more about the evening. For some reason, he was a little nervous about the event, which, to him, felt odd. It's just a ball. Had he been to one before? He felt he had. No big deal, right? Then, maybe it was Tilly. Yes, that was it. Tilly – his girlfriend, Tilly. Things were changing. He was nervous because he wanted to make a good impression. He wanted her to be pleased. And why is that?
"Because I've fallen for her," he said out loud to only himself as he exited the car.
Lucas took a deep breath and straightened his cap. Just take this one step at a time. No need to get antsy. He made his way down the street and then rounded the corner, heading toward the florist's shop. Then, he stopped just outside the door. Here he was, picking up a corsage for Tilly. He felt like a giddy teenager. What was wrong with him?
There had been a lull in business that morning, and the florist had taken that moment to go outside to get some fresh air, pick up a newspaper, and talk to his friend. From the newspaper stand, he kept an eye on his shop, and when he saw Lucas rounding the corner, he recognized him as one who had dropped in a few days prior to place the order.
"I have to go, Leo. A customer is coming," he said, handing the street vendor a nickel for the newspaper.
Leo stared at the nice-looking man walking in their direction, then turned to a flyer hanging on his post that the Police had placed there the day before. He then looked back toward Lucas. "Hey, George, I'm pretty sure this is the same man the police are looking for. What do you think?"
George tucked the newspaper under his arm, watched Lucas for a moment, and then turned toward the poster. "Sure looks like the same man. I think you're right. Let me stall him while you find a copper," he replied as he turned to follow Lucas into the store.
"That was such an exciting time," Jenny said as she and Nathan entered their hotel room and set their things down on a chair. All of those men marching in formation, the bands, and the atmosphere—it almost makes me wish I were an American."
Nathan smiled. "The New Yorkers definitely know how to throw a parade. I still can't believe we get to meet Pershing tonight. That was so nice of your folks to do that."
She walked over to him and wrapped her arms around his waist. "Well, you deserve it. For making their daughter so happy."
Nathan hugged her closely. "I hope to keep you that way," he said, kissing the top of her head.
Jenny closed her eyes and relaxed her head against his chest. "You know what would make me happy?"
Grant grinned mischievously. "Um…what?"
"A nap."
Nathan furrowed his brow. "Oh. Of course. Sure," he replied. "Just let me hang up my clothes, and I'll be right there."
While Nathan slipped out of his dress shirt, Jenny took off her skirt and crawled under the sheets in just her full slip. They had been out early that morning, first to pass out a few more flyers and then to watch the Armistice Day Parade, and they hadn't stopped. Jenny had hoped that perhaps in an event with so many people, she might see her brother amongst the sea of faces, but it wasn't to be. She wondered where he was. Was he still in New York, or had he moved on? She closed her eyes and said a prayer that if he was there, they would find him on this trip.
"Yes, I know they are busy, but I need to speak to them. It's urgent! Please tell Ari or Sophia that Lionel Berrymore is on the phone, and he needs to speak to them right away….What? Yes. I'll hold."
Lucas stood at the front desk for the 7th precinct making a phone call to the Falkenbergs to alert them to the fact he had been detained. He knew there had to be some mistake as the police had just apprehended him without telling him why, and he felt he had a close enough relationship with Ari that he had no qualms about calling in the businessman to help straighten it out.
Bouchard waited and waited and waited for Falkenberg's servant to return to the line. Meanwhile, he looked over at the desk cop, who was looking at him with amusement.
Lucas looked at him with confusion. "What?"
The man smirked. "That must be some good stuff you drank."
Bouchard furrowed his brow. "Excuse me?"
"I was just thinkin', maybe instead of telling them Lionel Barrymore is calling, you could say it's Santa Claus. Nobody refuses Santa."
Lucas inhaled, then rolled his eyes. Come on! I'm going to be late for Tilly over this nonsense, he thought. Seconds later, the man at the house came back to the phone. Lucas listened for just a moment, and his frustration ramped up. "No! I'm not up in my room dressing; I am right here at the pol…..ice." He closed his eyes. This was no good. The Falkenbergs hadn't even bothered to check his room and assumed he was getting dressed. He had used his phone call and would now have to sit in detainment until someone realized he was gone. In all likelihood, he would miss the ball.
Tilly's heart was full of joy. She was three hours away from entering the ball with the handsomest, sweetest man she'd ever met, and he seemed just as eager to be with her as she did with him. This is it, she thought to herself. This is the man that I'm going to marry. Oh, how I love him so already.
Her thoughts drifted to what he might be doing at that moment. Getting ready? It was a little too early for that, even though she, herself, had done so. Maybe he was resting. She wanted to go check on him, to perhaps get a sneak peek of what he might look like that evening, but she needed an excuse. Looking around the room, she couldn't find any legitimate reason that his assistance might be needed, so she made one up.
"Wow."
"Wow? That's all you have?" Jenny asked, walking out of the spacious en suite in their hotel room. "I worked hard to get ready for this ball and I get wow?" she teased.
"Jenny, you look...splendid."
A smile crossed her face at his reaction. Her dress was green satin and really brought out the color of her eyes. She had managed with some difficulty to pull much of her hair on top of her head and secure it, leaving a few stray curls on her neck and in front of her ears. Jenny enjoyed the way her husband was looking at her.
"You will definitely be the prettiest woman at the ball," he said, placing a kiss on her cheek.
Jenny savored the moment but then noticed the bow tie situation and reached up to handily correct the mess Nathan had made of things. "There! Better!"
"Thanks for your help," he added, not able to take his eyes off of the vision in front of him.
"That's what I'm here for. Can't let my handsome husband leave the hotel looking like a slob."
Grant smirked at her banter. This shindig might be fun, after all.
"Well, what's he in for?"
A lieutenant at station 7 glanced over at Lucas, who had been sitting in a detainment room for three hours. They had thus far given him water to drink but very little information as he sat handcuffed to a table. Listening closely, he hoped to perhaps get a clue. He hadn't done a thing, and this was clearly a case of mistaken identity if only he could get them to listen.
"I don't know. The Pinks have been looking for him, and the chief told us to keep him and don't let him go. Something about a murder in New Orleans, I think."
"A murder? You mean the guy's dangerous? How come he's not in a cell?"
The officer shrugged.
Lucas, however, did not shrug. Instead, he tried to gain his balance as the room began to spin. Murder? New Orleans? It seemed so familiar. He closed his eyes as a new vision appeared in his head. He was on the ground, and Elizabeth was standing over him with a plank. He saw the plank come down, and then he saw a flash from a gun barrel light up the room as a bullet lodged in her chest. He saw Elizabeth lying on the ground and then heard in his head Bill's proclamation, "She's gone."
Bouchard began to shake uncontrollably as he tried to catch his breath. "No. No. What have I done?! What have I done?!" he said as his emotions spiraled out of control.
Tilly tapped on Lucas's bedroom door with a jar of cold cream in her hand. She absolutely didn't need it but it was the only thing she could think of that she might need his help on, so she tightened the lid as tightly as she could and made her way down to his room. In retrospect, it felt silly for her to be doing this, but she couldn't help herself. It was as if she knew that this was the man she was fated to be with, and she wanted to spend every moment in his presence.
She stood in the hallway for several seconds then tapped again, and then she frowned. Opening the door slowly, she could see where his tuxedo was laid out nice and straight for the evening, the black tails and white vest and tie exactly what she had imagined he'd be wearing. But there was no Lucas. She walked further into the room and then turned to go.
"Whatcha doin'?"
The child's voice stopped her in her tracks.
"I…I was looking for Mr. Lionel. I was going to have him open this jar."
The little girl nodded. "He isn't here."
Tilly looked at her with curiosity. "He isn't? Where did he go?"
Annie lowered her head and stuck her finger in her mouth. "I'm not allowed to say. It's a secret."
Now, Tilly was even more curious. "A secret? What kind of secret?"
"I can't say."
Tilly took a deep breath, heaven forbid she push the child to divulge a secret. "Okay, can you say how long ago he left?"
Annie nodded her head. "Big hand was on the three, and little hand was on the two."
Tilly raised her eyebrows. "Two fifteen?"
"Yes, ma'am."
"But that's three hours ago!" she responded. "Did he say how long he'd be gone?"
Annie shook her head. "No. But you're going to like it."
"I'm going to like it? Did he go to get something for me?"
Annie giggled, then put her finger to her lips and blew.
Tilly smiled at the child and then looked toward the hallway. Nothing he would have been getting her should have taken three hours to get. She decided to call Sam.
Nathan and Jenny's driver pulled in through the gates of the Falkenberg estate a little after five thirty in the evening. The pair made a striking couple and could have passed for anyone within high society ranks had it not been for the fact that both of them were taking in every bit of the space surrounding them, from the lush grounds now bedecked with the final leaves of fall to the water's edge seen just beyond the main house.
"I don't know how people live this way," Nathan said as their car pulled up to the front of the building. A male servant stood waiting to show them in.
"It is certainly a far cry from how we grew up," Jenny said. "But not far from where we're going."
"Your parent's house?" Nathan asked.
Jenny nodded. "Father has been a wise investor through the years. Lucas takes after him."
"And yet, you'd never know it," Nathan said.
"No," she replied. "Does this sort of lifestyle bother you?" she asked as the car came to a stop.
Grant considered the thought. "I wouldn't say it bothers me. It's not something I'm used to."
She shook her head. "Nor I. Not for a very long time."
He looked at his wife. "Is this something you would want?"
"Heaven's no," she smiled, touching his knee. "But my parents have offered to give us a house as a wedding gift."
Nathan furrowed his brow. "I thought this was our wedding gift."
"It is," she replied. "It's just, my uncle Cedric passed a few years ago and his house went to mother. It remains empty."
The chauffeur opened the door. "This way, Mr. and Mrs. Grant."
"Thank you," Nathan said, then offered his hand to Jenny. "I don't think we could really deal with a mansion."
"It's not a mansion," she replied. "It's a simple country farm house outside of Montreal, with enough acreage that we could grow our own food and the children could ride horses, and there would even be room for us to build another house, if when Allie gets married…."
"Who says Allie is getting married?" Nathan replied. "She's not allowed until she's at least 50 years old."
Jenny laughed, then looked at him seriously. "It was between this and their home in London, which is not unlike this, except it's not on the water. I told them that we would consider it but that I wouldn't do anything unless you wanted to."
Nathan smiled. "Tell me about it more," he said, handing their ticket to the front door servant before being allowed inside.
"Well, it's a sound structure. It has five bedrooms, a barn. It hasn't been lived in for about four or five years and prior to that my uncle was infirm so it may need some repairs."
"And you like it?" he asked.
"Very much."
"Then tell them we accept."
Jenny's smile grew, "Really, Nathan! It's really okay!?"
"Sure," he grinned, accepting a warm hug from her and then looking up at the grand hallway in front of him. It was beautiful and unlike what he was used to. His eyes scanned the room, and just as Jenny was about to kiss him, he grabbed her by the arms. "There he is!"
"What?"
"Pershing! Over there!"
"Oh, my goodness. Well, let's get over and see him."
"Let's."
Sergeant Fields happened to be walking by the detention room just as Lucas began to become disturbed. He noticed that Bouchard had gone pale and was shaking and became alarmed. "Hang in there, buddy…"
Buddy…..the name flooded his mind, the little boy's giggle, his mother's face. She was beautiful. They were happy. What had he done? Lucas needed air. He need to get out of there, needed to leave. He started to rise, but was reminded that he was handcuffed to a chair. It was then he remembered some of the skills of his favorite performer.
"Hey! Where'd he go?"
Fields had brought a glass of water back to Lucas's room only to find it was empty. The cuffs had been unlocked and a window opened. Lucas was gone. The officer rushed out of the room to report an escapee and immediately, the New York police began a manhunt for Lucas Bouchard. Meanwhile, Lucas ducked into a cab and had it take him immediately to his apartment.
"Have you heard from him yet?"
Tilly met Sam at Ronnie's, and from there, Ronnie took them in her car to the boys' apartment. Sam had been trying to call but there had been no answer.
"Not yet. I'm sure he's fine."
"It's been three and a half hours. Something is wrong," Tilly said, controlling the urge to tell Ronnie to speed up her car so they could get to the apartment in faster time.
In Greenwich Village, a determined Lucas slipped into the building and grabbed the hidden key from where they stored it. Entering the apartment, he grabbed a duffle bag and began to pack, his mind reeling as he considered the thought that he might have killed his fiancée. Tilly. His heart shattered at the thought of leaving her, particularly since he'd just found her, but he would never do anything to harm her. If he was guilty of this crime, she was better off without him. Within five minutes of his arrival, he was gone.
Nathan and Jenny stood in the greeting line, edging closer to General Pershing. Pershing was a handsome man and quite dignified in his appearance. On this particular occasion, he, too, was in a tuxedo, making him look much more aristocratic. He immediately noticed Jenny from across the room, and she quickly let him know that she was with Nathan by grasping her husband's arm. She didn't want to damage the image of Nathan's hero in her husband's eyes, but she felt like Pershing could be a bit of a ladies' man, which she was definitely not interested in. Finally, they reached the head of the line, and an attendant next to the Falkenbergs announced the couple.
Mr. Nathan Grant and his wife, Jenevieve Bouchard Grant.
"Bouchard!" Ari said. "You're Martin's daughter?!"
"Yes, I am," Jenny replied. "And it's Jenny." She gave Sophia a hug as a greeting while Ari shook Nathan's hand and then hugged Jenny as well.
"You're the spitting image of your mother," Sophia said. "With dark hair, of course. Please, come and meet our general."
Jenny and Nathan stepped forward, with the former smiling politely when Pershing kissed her hand.
"How lovely," he stated. "And I'm pleased to meet you as well."
The Falkenbergs explained to Pershing who the Bouchards were and that Jenny and Nathan were on their honeymoon in New York.
"I'm a great admirer," Nathan admitted. "When I was a Mountie, we studied some of your tactics in our training for when our regiment would go to some of the more dangerous parts of the NorthWest territories. Brilliant."
Pershing nodded in acknowledgment. "What do you do today?"
"Oh, I'm a Pinkerton…" Nathan said, but before he could say any more, event security approached the hosts.
"Mr. Falkenberg, we just had a call from the New York Police. The gentleman who called before who claimed he was Mr. Berrymore, well he's escaped."
"Oh, my!" Sophia gasped.
"We have security handled pretty well here so I don't think it's an issue but just thought you should be aware."
"Thank you, Higgins," Ari replied.
"What's that about?" Nathan asked.
Ari shook his head. "A young man called here earlier today who had been picked up by the police and was claiming to be one of our guests, Lionel Berrymore."
Jenny raised her eyebrows. "Lionel Barrymore is staying here?"
Sophia chuckled. "No. A young man by the same name. He spells his name differently. Sad case, really. He's an amnesiac. Hasn't a clue who he is."
"Speaking of, have we seen Lionel tonight? I'm sure he'd like to meet our general," Ari added.
Nathan and Jenny immediately looked at one another, each of them thinking the same thing as the other.
"Your guest, this Lionel…" Grant said. "What does he look like?"
Sophia thought a moment. "Well, he's tall…about your height. Very handsome. Dark hair."
"Mr. Falkenberg," Thomas said, walking up to his employer.
"What is it now, Thomas?" Falkenberg said, impatiently.
"Miss Tilly is on the phone. She wanted me to tell you that Mr. Lionel is missing."
Ari looked at Thomas, then Sophia. "Good heavens, that means…."
It suddenly dawned on Jenny that she had a photograph of Lucas in her pocketbook. She immediately dug it out.
"Thomas, tell security that it really was Lionel. Get the message to the police that he is not dangerous," Ari said. "My goodness, what has happened?"
"Is this him?" Jenny said, handing the photograph to Ari Falkenberg. Sophia looked on.
"Why, yes!" Sophia said. "That's Lionel."
Jenny's eyes whelmed up. "That's my brother! He's been missing for several months."
"Lionel, is your brother?" Ari asked.
"Yes, only his name is not Lionel. It's Lucas. Lucas Bouchard! Oh, Mr. Falkenberg, we need to find him right away. We've been so worried about him."
Ari walked to call security. "I'll get my men on it."
"Mr. Falkenberg," Thomas said. "Miss Tilly says they found a newspaper at Mr. Lionel's apartment that was open to the train schedules. They believe he's going to Grand Central.
"Grand Central Station?" Nathan said. "He'd be leaving town. We've got to stop him."
Ari turned to Thomas. "Get the Duessenberg and drive these two into town. Grand Central Station, as fast as you can."
Lucas stood in the train depot dressed casually in a white shirt and suspenders with a newsboy cap pulled low. He was trying to look inconspiculous as he awaited the train to Chicago. He hadn't really planned to go there, but took the first ticket out of town he could find to a big city he could disappear in. He needed time to think.
With a mind still reeling from his memories of Elizabeth's death, Lucas was nevertheless aware that his memory was only fragmented. He didn't know her name and hadn't actually seen himself pull the trigger. He also had lingering tidbits of dreams and memories from earlier which were confusing the message. Could he have killed her? Was he that kind of a man?
While he waited, Ronnie dropped Tilly and Sam off at the other end of the station and the two of them walked quickly, Tilly ignoring the stares she got over her beautiful attire as Sam walked in his tux.
"Do you see him?" Sam asked.
Tilly shook her head. "No. I…."
Lucas shifted in his seat so that his head poked out from behind a heavy-set man who was blocking their view of him.
"There! There he is!" she said, grabbing Sam by the hand and leading him toward Bouchard.
"Lionel!" she cried out.
Lucas looked up, the expression on his face like that of a caged animal. He immediately stood and began to back away. "No. No Tilly. You need to go!"
"Lionel, please! What's wrong?"
Lucas shook his head. "I'm not good for you. Please. Please, just go."
"But, Lionel!"
"Hey! There he is!"
The voice of a New York City cop who had been brought there to search for Bouchard was heard coming from the other end of the line.
Lucas turned around and saw them. And then began to run.
"Stop! Police!" One officer yelled as two took up pace and began to chase Lucas down the platform. From the direction he was running two more cops appeared.
Outside, Jenny and Nathan's car had just pulled up and the Grants rushed from their vehicle into the station.
"Give yourself up!" One of the officers yelled as Bouchard stopped in the middle of the platform, one set of police officers rushing at him both ways. A southbound train passed by in front of him and Lucas did the only thing he could think to do. He ran towards it.
"Lionel, no!" Tilly yelled, watching as Lucas leaped through the air, his hands barely grabbing onto the handrails of the passing train. The police yelled stop, and one of them pulled his weapon.
"Stop, or I'll shoot!" the man yelled.
"No! Don't!" Tilly said, running toward the scene.
"Everyone, get down," the officer yelled.
At the end of the Platform, Jenny arrived. Seeing her brother, she screamed.
"LUCAS!"
Lucas turned his head and saw her. "JENNY!" He reached out his hand. A shot rang out. Lucas crashed to the ground.