The weather was getting significantly cold considering that it was still November. People usually didn't have to use their warm coats until December but this year the aggressive weather conditions decided to strike earlier than the usual. Scooter Polarsky was enjoying a warm cup of tea by the window. His bedroom's window faced the flower street which was currently flooded by the rain that found it impossible to exit the city because of the shut up drain pipes. By the time more water gathered that seemed like a mixture of mud and withered leaves.

He brought the porcelain cup closer to his lips and took a small sip to warm himself up. He found himself lost in his thoughts for once again, something that became a daily routine for him ever since he shared that night of passion with Rita. He hated himself for being such an amateur. He always used to date older women, and it was never about their looks or unconditional love. It had been always about their money and the possible heritage that he could possibly inherit one day. Whenever his plans didn't go as planned he was pretty much able to handle his defeat like a pro. He simply packed his things and disappeared determined to start over and test his luck for once again. He never truly expected that the one and only Rita Castillo would turn out to be something more than just an upper crust lover. He got to really know her by the time and eventually he caught himself experiencing actual feelings.

Even though he was supposedly happily married to another wealthy lover he didn't consider his current lifestyle as a success. Annabetha was kind. She was giving and blindly in love with his looks which made her a good target. Her inability to have a good judgment was her weakness. Or maybe she simply needed his company no matter the circumstances or the consequences. Scooter found himself unable to enjoy the advantages of being part of the high society. The goods he kept receiving on a daily basis, the beautiful penthouse he lived in and the high fashion clothes he got to wear didn't seem to fill the whole in his heart. He still felt empty.

He realized recently that this silly game of survival didn't matter anymore. No matter what he did his thoughts remained on Rita and he blamed himself for being unable to approach her and share his feelings with her. He was a married man... and losing everything that he had acquired scared the living daylights out of him. He rubbed his chin skeptically. Annabetha was standing still under the doorframe gazing at his masculine silhouette crouched down next to the window. He was dressed up into a crème colored suit and a nice pair of black oxfords. She smiled absentmindedly and cleared her throat to grab his attention.

"Darling?"

She asked. His full lips parted at the realization of someone summoning him back to reality. He turned to look at her and Rita's image faded away and quickly got replaced by Annabetha's round face. A pair of hazel downturned eyes locked with his brown ones and softened.

"Yes?"

He replied and realized that his throat was drier than he had expected.

"Are you alright?"

Annabetha asked and folded her hands under her large breasts and on top of a dark green satin gown that she was wearing. This time her voice came out genuinely concerned.

"Terrific."

He responded and forced a childish smile that he hoped that it would be convincing enough.

"Are you certain?"

"Absolutely. Hey! You look fantastic!"

He changed the subject quickly and rose back up on his feet. He straightened his upper body to regain confidence and paced towards her to take hold of her veiny hand.

She immediately melted at his compliment. Who wouldn't?

"I do?"

"Yes my love. Green is definitely your color."

He smirked and placed a soft peck on her flustered cheek. The woman bit her bottom lip playfully and tried to suppress a giggle. Even thought she was much older than he was she still behaved like a child whenever he was around. His compliments and ravishing looks made her feel like an overheated teenager.

"Then I should be wearing it more often."

"Absolutely."

He leaned closer to her and whispered sensually in her ear. Annabetha smiled in response and pulled him closer to bridge the gap between them by placing a hungry kiss on his lips. Scooter returned but eventually she pulled away all out of breath.

"My my you're gonna make me late! Lucy cannot wait for me forever."

She giggled and his innocent smile turned into an inviting smirk.

"Skipping tea time is not a crime."

"Oh but it is! You know how impatient Lucy can be. After all, she's going through some extreme hardships with her husband that we need to discuss, but lucky for you I'll be back with interesting gossip to share."

She winked playfully and caressed his soft cheek lovingly. Scooter nodded his head in response.

He placed a kiss on her hand and the older woman rushed outside the room to grab her purse.

He run his fingers through his hair and exhaled heavily. That was his life recently... constant chit chat about Lucy which he couldn't give a damn about and tea time. He sunk his hands in his pockets and stared towards the window for once again. He observed the raindrops racing down the glass and waited for the front door to shut only to indicate that his "lovely" wife was finally gone. As soon she left he walked himself to the bar in the living room to serve himself a glass of well deserved brandy. It seemed like alcohol was his only company throughout the hardships he was going through.

Five minutes later a knock on the door startled him. At first he guessed that Annabetha forgot something at home and came back to collect it but as soon as he answered the door he almost yelped at Catherine's figure staring at him.

The older olive skinned woman stood still holding tightly onto her black fur. She gave the younger man a broad dazzling smile that seemed almost threatening to Scooter.

"Hell no!"

The man exclaimed and took a step back. His eyes widened and filled up with pure horror and despise. Catherine paced inside the penthouse and removed her black fur only to reveal a tight black office dress that she had chosen specifically for the occasion. She knew that she wasn't in position to seduce Scooter, but she wished to make a grant appearance.

"We need to talk my darling boy."

She said in a mothering manner and handed him over her fur. He stood still like a statue staring at her up and down. What could possibly an old lover of his could be yearning this time.

"I'm afraid I can't talk. I'm expecting visitors."

He came up with a random lie and took a seat down on the sofa never letting go of her fur. He hold onto the furry fabric tightly for dear life.

"All by yourself?"

Catherine asked and raised a questioning brow.

"Exactly."

"Didn't your wife tell you that lies tend to hurt people? It's not very demure of you to reject an old friend."

She forced a bright smile and leaned above him to gain more ground and confidence. Scooter shifted on the couch and stared at his shoes nervously.

"I thought that we're not friends. Not after what occurred."

"I'm not the type of person who holds a grudge."

"Allow me to disagree considering that you shot me when you found out that I was helping a "friend" in need."

"You lied to me Scooter and like I said I don't like liars. I taught you a lesson and then I found the strength to forgive you. I came here in peace."

The younger man stared at her in disbelief. He run his fingers through his dark silky fringe and tried to think whether Catherine's motive was actually innocent or not. He trusted people easily and that was a weak attribute of his. That made him an easy prey and a pretty much good lap dog for all the dirty work. Rita proved that to him, but in her case it wasn't only his innocence that made him follow orders or the need for money, there was something extra. A feeling that he hadn't processed carefully enough back then.

"I'm a married man Catherine! What do you want?"

He asked in obvious disdain.

"I surely am not here to make up with you young man. Like I said I'm here as a friend. Truth is that I worry... after the terrifying incidents that occurred in the past, after losing my beloved papa because of that ratchet woman, I changed."

"You changed? How did you change? I hear nothing but manipulation in your words."

He admitted and his face contorted. His facial expression indicated his ambivalence. After a series of wrong decisions he wanted to make the right one this time, feeling afraid that if he messed up again life wouldn't be as generous and give him a second chance.

"You're confused. I cannot blame you considering our past. I treated you poorly but of course you were in a bad position. You were conflicted between the urge to survive and the need to give in your feelings. I call this poor judgment but this time it's not about spiteful plans and manipulation. I want to make it right too."

She tried to sound as much sincere as she could, and by the look on his face it seemed like she was too close to achieving her main goal. She won his trust and caught his attention which she considered that task to be much harder.

"To whom? Me?"

He asked and balanced his elbows on his knees. His body slowly leaned closer to her figure to retain a strong eye contact. If Rita taught him one thing that was the importance of body language. Proper body language reinvents a person and no one can imagine that they were ever anyone else.

"I know you Scooter. You don't hold grudges either. But Rita does... can't blame her. Even thought I strongly believe that prison attire suited her perfectly I must admit that she didn't deserve to be locked up in there. It was a good lesson for her..."

She pressed her full lips together and pretended a frown.

"If you want to apologize to Rita... why are you here chatting with me?"

"She's not answering my calls! Again, I can't blame her... but I really need to see her and make amends for what I did. Have you seen her lately?"

She took a seat down next to him on the couch and turned towards him to face him. Her hands landed on his knees and caressed them in a motherly manner. The man stiffened at her question. His eyes slightly widened and his lips parted. He was a married man, admitting to a night full of sin could only harm him.

"Scooter? I'm not here to judge."

"What's with the sudden interrogation?"

He snapped and pushed himself back up on his feet. He needed to walk, he needed to get closer to a window and breathe for a second. What if Catherine planned to ruin his marriage and make him and up on the streets? He couldn't lose Annabetha... unfortunately he was his savior.

"My dear we're having an honest conversation here. Although I'm not supporting cuckoldry in a marriage it's not my place to point fingers. All I need to know is where Rita is... please help a remorseful woman in need."

Her eyes softened and locked with his.

The man paced towards the window and folded his hands under his chest. He stared outside the vast yard that was now flooded with rain water. The weather seemed to be representing his feelings today.

"The details are none of your concern. If you'd like to apologize to Rita then you should better start looking at the hotels in the city centre. I don't know her exact accommodation but what she shared with me is that Miss Grace Berk hosts her in a hotel room until she recovers fully."

He swallowed hard not feeling proud of himself. Images from that night of passion flashed in front of his eyes making it unbearable to focus on his conversation with Catherine. He was drowning in guilt and sorrow. The worse thing is that he didn't feel bad for his unfaithfulness towards Annabetha. He felt bad for being unable to conquer the woman that he craved so badly. But again... Rita Castillo wasn't the type of woman that any man could conquer.

"I see... it would take me days to look through all these hotels."

She admitted and cleared her throat trying her hardest not to show her disappointment for his lack of information.

"I answered to your question. I told you everything I know, you can leave now Catherine."

He responded firmly and clenched his jaw.

"You're a good boy Scooter. I always knew that I could count on you and your kind heart."

A small smile formed on his lips in response and the brunette woman approached him. He gave his hand a light squeeze and leaned closer. She placed a rapid kiss on his cheek and with a light giggle she left the house leaving him there lost in his thoughts for once again.

It was around noon when Dee finished cooking. The entire house flooded with the scent of potatoes and fresh roast in the oven. She placed baby Bertram back on his baby chair and grabbed his empty bowl. The little man looked at her concerned face with curiosity. He couldn't tell what troubled his mother, either could he phrase it but her antsy movements made him feel nervous. He sucked on his thumb that was covered in carrot juice and a light giggle escaped his lips. Maybe he tried to cheer her up even instinctively. The blonde mother washed up the bowl and wiped her hands on top of the apron she was wearing. She turned to look at her boy and a broad smile replaced the frown that conquered her face throughout the biggest part of the day.

Vern hadn't exactly shared the news with her just yet but she knew better than assuming that everything was alright. Vern hadn't left his office all day. Every time she tried to interrupt his "studying" session he grew irritated without realizing it. She tried to ask questions, got rejected and then decided to give him some space. The man could turn into a huge workaholic when it came to a serious case at work. What worried her the most was the very fact that he was still in suspension so technically he wasn't supposed to be caught up with any case. She approached her son and placed a light kiss on top of his small pointy nose. She caressed his cheek before she exited the kitchen and walked right down the hall. She reached the door that lead into Vern's office. She had to give it another try... Vern rarely asked for her help but she knew that he always appreciated it when she intervened and talked him through a dilemma.

She knocked on the door and waited impatiently. This time she didn't get a reply. He didn't deny her access into the room but he didn't allow her to enter either. She let out a heavy sight and pushed the door open only to find her husband sat down on the floor in the middle of his office surrounded by boxes. She narrowed her eyes in obvious concern and examined the contents of the boxes. She saw nothing but papers. Vern was sitting on the floor Buddha style, hunched over a pile of documents, looking all tired and confused at the same time. He played with a pen as he tried to remain focused on what he was reading and when Dee walked inside he didn't even notice.

"Vern what's going on?"

She croaked and placed her hands on her hips.

No reply.

"Vern?"

She raised her voice slightly and the man flinched at the sound. He shifted on the floor as soon as he noticed her figure and played with the first button on his white shirt.

"Dee... what's up?"

He cleared his throat and looked up at her.

"What's going on in here? What is all this?"

"Nothing."

"Nothing? You're locked up in here for a day! I'm worried..."

"Don't be. I'm fine."

"Honey you're exhausted."

She sighed and made her way in the office. She left the door open in order to keep an eye on Bertram and sat down on the floor next to him. Her eyes roamed the paper he was holding but the faded ink on top of it didn't allow her to read the sentences clearly.

"What's this?"

She asked again and her hand landed on his back. She started caressing the tight muscles in a soothing manner.

"How much do you know about Rita?"

He asked absentmindedly and narrowed his eyes.

"You mean except the fact that she's a cold hearted woman who gave my mother and Scooter a really rough time?"

"Yes except all these concrete facts."

"Well she must be in pain..."

"Meaning what detective?"

He smiled slightly and finally focused his eyes on Dee's. He loved her ability to see through people and understand them fully. She didn't rush to judge, she always tried to think of their background first and possibly justify their actions based on their past.

"I believe that no person is born evil. My mother for example... she wasn't always all bad and deluded. She used to be a happy person or at least she appeared to be one. Until she got hurt multiple times and something within her switched. Same thing with Rita. She's a hideous woman who conducted unforgivable acts but I strongly believe that something or someone lead her to transform into a wicked version of her former self."

She swallowed hard and fiddled with her fingers.

"You're not all wrong."

He admitted and handed her over the marriage certificate.

"Read this."

He instructed her and Dee held the paper and read it thoroughly. Her eyes widened slightly but she couldn't exactly put a finger on the reason why Vern looked that concerned over a single marriage certificate.

"So what? She was married once to another man."

"Exactly. That man was allegedly dead. The police never found the real murderer but the letters that Rita exchanged with her cousin Isabelle throughout the first months of her marriage with Carlo prove that Isabelle is the person that killed mister Jaworski."

Dee shook her head in confusion and bit her bottom lip skeptically.

"So she lost a husband... do you think that his death wrecked her?"

"Nope. She was beyond relieved with the outcome. Harry bit her. Her letters prove that."

Dee's lips parted in awe and her green eyes darkened.

"She was trapped in a toxic environment and then jumped straight into a second one."

"That's not it."

Vern continued and pinched his nose bridge tiredly.

"I'm not worried about her past. What concerns me greatly is what's meant to occur in the future."

"Meaning what? Vern I don't get it... why are you suddenly obsessed with Rita's past and ex dead husband?"

"That man is alive Dee! That man presented himself as a psychiatrist in my unit, threatened Earl in order to gain power and managed to get your mother temporarily out of prison. He's back all flesh and bones and I can't figure out his motive. I contacted an old friend of mine... he works in the department of justice in California. He sent me these in order to help me with my research."

"So Rita's ex husband is working with my mother... Isn't it obvious? He's only here to cause more harm!''

Her bright green eyes widened open in terror at the thought of two destructive people working with each other while having a common enemy. Their secret collaboration could only lead to more death and Dee wasn't exactly sure if she could take any more pain.

"I can't turn him in for a marriage certificate and a bunch of letters... He can easily swear in front of the court that Rita was only trying to frame him. I don't have proof of their toxic relationship and the violent nature of it, I only have Rita's accusations which prove nothing."

"The question is, do you actually believe her?" Dee asked again and her face darkened. There were several moments in her relationship with Rita where she actually managed to witness the good in her, most of the times though Dee was forced to come across a wicked side of Rita that scared her and made her consider her as capable of anything. Even capable of murder, or framing a man. Vern's thick eyebrows furrowed at his wife's question.

"If I'm being honest, yes I do. Don't get me wrong, I've heard the stories about her, I even got to witness how she used to treat people, but Rita is not evil. The main cause of her horrific deeds was the need of survival, which I deeply understand as a man who's been to war."

"Now that's a horrible excuse."

"Are you willing to let her die because of who she was?"

Dee didn't answer this time. She shifted on the floor and fiddled with her fingers nervously like a child that was being scolded. Feelings and rationality fought hard in her head whilst the right decision was struggling to emerge. Her thin rosy lips pressed against each other skeptically before she regathered her thoughts and spoke.

"You need to talk to her. I would offer my services at this point but it would be useless. Rita and I are not under the bestest of terms, which would make it hard for me to approach her again and have a conversation. As for you, denying you this case would force you to go against your ethics... keep her safe but at the same time keep in mind that you have a family Vern. Now is not the time to play hero." She knew that no matter how hard she tried to reason with him that Vern would end up getting involved. Ever since he got back from war, became a private investigator and then proceeded with a career as a detective for the police that it would be impossible for him to refrain from serving justice. What frightened her the most were the opponents in this case. She witnessed her mother losing every single trace of humanity and become a cold hearted murderer that didn't hesitate to turn against her own husband in order to achieve her goal. What could possibly keep Alma from turning against Vern? After all, she was never extremely fond of him...

Dee wasn't planning to let her husband work alone. She would have to refrain from contacting Rita but if there was one person that was dying to chat with her out there that would be her mother, and Dee preferred to believe that perhaps she could reason with her mother at least.

"I'm not planning to die on you dear." Vern responded and a soft optimal smile graced his facial features. He finally put the papers aside and proceed to pull Dee into his embrace. His fingers brushed through a few strays of golden short hair and her familiar scent of vanilla filled his nostrils. He knew for a fact that no matter what happened he wouldn't let anyone harm his precious family.

By the afternoon the wind had subsided for a bit but eventually got replaced by heavy droplets of rain. Heavy rain was pouring over LA for once again forcing the citizens to lock themselves up into their homes or seek for temporary shelter in small street cafes and retail stores. Rita Castillo didn't seem to hesitate. She found herself pacing down the Main Street for once again seeking for the familiar corner flower shop that would indicate her arrival at the hotel. Her clothes and hair were soaked but she couldn't care less. She only wished that Grace would show her some sympathy for once again. Rita wasn't the one to beg, or ask for sympathy, she used to come up with more sinister mind games in for her to get she wanted... but that only worked on lonely rich men like Carlo.

Grace's case was different. They've reached the point in their relationship where she actually felt like they were friends. Something that she never expected to think of Miss Grace Berk. She walked down the street and removed the burgundy satin scarf she was wearing eagerly. She tightened her grip around the soaked fabric only for the rain water that was previously absorbed to exit. Her brown orbs lifted only to come across the familiar hotel that hospitalized her for almost two months now. She looked up and her eyes sought thoroughly for the rounded balcony that belonged to her room. The lights were off, the windows were sealed and the nicely knitted white curtains closed. Grace must have had left. Why wouldn't she? She had a husband and a lover. She wasn't supposed to be waiting for Rita to change her mind like the brat she was.

She let out a long exhale and run her fingers through wet strays of brunette hair. She kept walking towards the stairs that lead to the entrance, hoping that there would be someone there that would recognize her and let her in. When she reached the marble stairs her vision was now clear, the heavy droplets of rain continued falling but they weren't enough in order to blur the familiar blonde figure sitting down on the first step. Rita paused and stared at the woman in confusion. Once again, she felt like people bowed down to their knees when there was no reason to. Grace shouldn't be there, she shouldn't be feeding her ego whilst enhancing her flaws.

She cleared her throat in order to be heard, feeling unable to form a sentence. Grace clenched her jaw and lifted her blood shot eyes to face Rita, a broken woman standing across another broken woman. Her long delicate fingers brushed a couple of strays of blonde curls. Her rosy lips drew back to retain her sadness, she didn't seem to be broken, she didn't ask for pity. She just needed stability for once again. It was the first time in forever that things had gotten so complicated, and she hated being caught up into her own unawareness. Joan's statement tortured her for the entire day, so far she was pretty convinced that her good actions were a simple example of her empathy. Now she was uncertain, was it empathy after all?

Rita shook her head at the sight of the woman and proceeded. Grace didn't move a muscle. She remained frozen on her seat, her body stiffened.

"You're gonna catch a cold dear."

She chuckled in spite of herself and lowered herself next to where Grace sat.

"I needed some air."

The blonde hummed. Her green eyes narrowed and focused on the wet asphalt lying in front of them.

"I can only assume that the garden club meeting didn't go well."

She clicked her tongue in her mouth and let out a light exhale.

"The garden club is the least of my problems."

Grace admitted into a voice that could cut glass.

"Is it? What happened?"

A dark thin brow quirked. She couldn't help but feel guilty about it.

"Joan... Let's just say that we won't be as close anymore."

"Isn't it a bit late for you to be troubled over your marriage? Adultery is more common than you think."

Rita returned sharply and her hand sunk in her fur's pocket. She reached a pack of cigarettes and positioned one between her lips. She lit it up and inhaled a heavy bang.

"It's not about adultery."

"Oh?"

"Joan wasn't just a lover to me. Our meetings were more than a sex act."

"That's an indiscreet way to put it."

Grace grimaced in annoyance and inhaled.

"She can't provide me with what she used to. It's not the same anymore."

The blonde croaked and didn't dare to look at her.

"How come?"

Rita tilted her head to the side and examined the woman closely.

"We had a chat... it only lead to unwanted revelations."

"Grace what's that supposed to mean?"

The brunette croaked slowly losing her patience, cause none of this made sense.

Grace decided not to continue... she realized that she was digging her own grave. She extended her hand towards Rita in despair and the brunette woman passed her the cigarette elegantly. Grace didn't hesitate, she inhaled a heavy bang and let the bitter smoke fill up her lungs. Her eyes narrowed. The sound of silence was making them both alerted.

"Did you know that Harry is back in town?"

The regal woman declared and her hands folded under her chest.

"Who's Harry?"

Grace asked into a grave voice. Obvious confusions formed in her eyes and her rosy lips pressed against each other firmly.

"I thought that you've heard the rumors... that Carlo wasn't my first husband."

"Right..."

Rita made an awkward pause and wet her lips before she proceeded.

"Before I got caught up into that industry, I was married to Harry. I guess that decision was the beginning of my turmoil. Isabelle saved my life..."

Grace's lips parted slightly and she inhaled one more bang of heavy smoke.

"What did he do to you?"

Her throat felt surprisingly dry as she awaited to listen to the truth. Rita's truth. Not just another rumor.

"When he drunk, he got physical."

"Oh my goodness Rita..."

The blonde sighed and put out the cigarette.

"I was planning to escape, but he was smart. He got back home earlier than usual that day. When he saw me he tried to stop me, but Isabelle had enough of him. She tried to shoot him, and until now we thought that he was dead. It wasn't until now that I found out that he's back, looking for me. As you can see, I got no place to go or hide."

She took a seat down next to the woman and gazed at the rainy scenery. The heavy rain had passed and light droplets landed on the pavement every now and then.

"You can still stay in the hotel."

"For once again I don't wish for your pity. I'm not here begging for shelter or money Grace, but I'm asking you to give me time."

The blonde woman swallowed hard and nodded.

"I never planned to kick you out, it was your choice to leave."

"I didn't wish to be a burden or keep consuming your life."

Rita returned sheepishly and Grace took a moment to process her words. She didn't really mind spending her time with Rita, looking after the woman had recently become a pretty good excuse to spend time with her. And when she didn't, she couldn't stop thinking about her. So maybe Joan was right after all.

"What is it?"

Rita asked and glared over Grace's puzzled face.

"It's nothing. Just know that I'll be happy to have you around dear. That man won't get to you."

Her tone softened and her eyes warmed.

"Under different conditions I hope."

"Such as?"

"You make sure to spend some quality time with your people, I'll be fine."

"Always so independent."

Grace joked and her arms folded on her lap.

"You know what I mean."

"I do…"

The woman hummed and got up on her knees abruptly.

"Let's go in, it's cold out here."

Rita nodded...