The letter brought tears to Evelyn's eyes. Her fingers gripped the paper, though she immediately felt guilty for wrinkling it. "I love you too, dad." She whispered, placing the paper on her vanity. "So you're Mr. Schmidt, huh?" Evelyn asked. She couldn't even feign a smile when she shook his hand.

"Yes ma'am, I am. And I want you to know that I'll do everything in my power to make sure your father gets as little time as he possibly can." The man declared. It technically wasn't lying, but if they couldn't convince the court that he was insane at the time of each and every murder, then Cody was going to be locked up for life, since the state they were in didn't have the death penalty. One might argue that being locked up for life was even worse.

To Evelyn, it sounded like an indication of her father's guilt. "Don't tell me you think he did it. How could you?" She snipped at him, her hands balling into fists. The man noticed the behavior, and offered a kind smile. He figured that his client would prefer discretion in terms of his daughter knowing the truth just yet. What she didn't know was that right after the meeting between the lawyer and his client, he'd filed a notice with the court. Thirty days before a trial in this state, if someone wanted to plead insanity, they had to put in that notice. That meant that unbeknownst to Evelyn, her father was already going to go to court, pleading not-guilty of all charges.

"Ma'am, I'm not saying I do or don't believe either side. My loyalty is strictly to your father, though. Alright?" He tried to calm her by relaxing his professional demeanor. "As for now, however, my job entails being sure that you're going to be alright. So I'll have a few things to discuss with your aunt before I leave."

Before Evelyn knew it, the two adults had left the room, and disappeared down the stairs. How unfair was that? Cody was her father. This lawyer was hers, and her dad's. Aunt Pepper wasn't even related to Cody.

She just wanted to lay on the bed, and cry. So, she did. Until she managed to fall asleep. Hours flitted by. The afternoon melted away into the dark pelt of night. Stars twinkled overhead, unseen and unappreciated. The glow of the moon, the only light spilling into the room. Without realizing it, she'd achieved peace just by resting, and allowing the troubles of her life to flip upside-down into nothingness.

By the time Evelyn woke up, it was already the next morning. She still wasn't hungry. The young girl sighed, and held her legs together under her folded arms. When there was a knock at the door, she groaned.

"Aunt Pepper, if this is about that lawyer dude, or dad, or makeup, I don't want to hear it." She marched over to the door, and flung it open. In front of her, a dark-haired boy with vivid green eyes, shrouded in a cloud of mystery. Until he smiled. She soaked him in, his unblemished dolce-tan skin, his defined arms, his friendly demeanor. Wait, that smile wasn't one of 'I missed you', it was an attempt not to laugh at her!

Viktor tried to hide his amusement, but it danced through his eyes. His lips were pursed up until he spoke. "What's with the uh, heh, the fancy getup?" He asked, eyes twinkling faintly. She could tell he wanted to laugh at her. "My stupid aunt did it to me." She turned away, face burning bright. "Blue eyelids?" "Because they 'make my eyes pop'." "Sparkly cheeks?" "To catch the light, or something." The two stood there, a little awkward now. "What's with the mouth color?" He asked, approaching by just a couple of steps. "...Supposed to make me more 'kissable to guys', or something. She knows I'm not seeing anyone." Evelyn mumbled, her head hung low in embarrassment.

She noticed a darker hand nearing her face, before gently caressing and lifting her chin. Viktor carefully observed her flushed expression, before dropping his hand again. "I think the gloss does it better that the lipstick, but that's just me. Professional opinion as a dude." He smirked at her, leaning nonchalantly on his hind leg.

The two smiled at each other, pushing away their awkward feelings. It was nice to have someone she actually cared about in the room with her. "Thanks for coming, Viktor." Evelyn grinned at him. There was a strange flutter inside of her. Maybe it was the feeling of being understood. Maybe it was just an overwhelming sense of relief that somebody was able to make her smile. Perhaps it was just his presence, a shield of comfort from the world around her. Perhaps it was something greater than all of this.

Evelyn stepped over to Viktor, and took his hands in her own. Her hands were small, dainty, and soft. His were much larger, and had power in them. They were callused, and muscular. To be honest? His hands were kind of hot.

Evelyn shook the thought from her head, then smiled at him. She hardly noticed his flattered expression. "I never got to thank you for what you did to Trevor. I don't know his condition, or if he hurt you in any way, but... the cops told me you rescued me, and I'm grateful. Thank you." She gave his hand a tender squeeze. Her eyes were soft, and adoring. His, even more so.

Evelyn was... enjoying herself? Her mind was clear for the first time in what felt to her like years. Her attention had been honed, and it was all on Viktor. He was here, in the flesh, ready for her. "May I have this dance?" Viktor asked, and held his hand out to her. Evelyn chuckled quietly, and shook her head. "No, I seriously cannot dance. That's why I rejected you at your sister's garden party." She held her hands up in innocence.

"So? This is your room. And for the record, I think it's cute that you can't dance." He smiled, and took her dainty hands safely in his. Embarrassed but willing, Evelyn allowed him to lead her around the room in a  square waltz. Three times she stepped on his feet. More often than that she went in the wrong direction. He never complained. She was uncertain for a few minutes, but eventually, allowed herself to succumb to the beating of each other's hearts.

It was a wonderful dance when she stopped trying to do... anything, really. In the end, they were swaying back and forth, hand-in-hand. It was the first time she'd allowed her torso to press against his. She felt so secure, with her head tucked under his chin, and his hands never wandering, and just with the peaceful movement of the sway.

(Cutesy romance! Cutesy PEACE in all their storms . . . Remember, there can be calm in the eye of the storm, even if life is difficult. Be blessed in your comings and goings, troops.)