"Man is not what he thinks he is, he is what he hides."--- Andre Malraux

November 20th, 2015
Aubrey Parish, Louisiana

Scott Feila opens the door to his hotel room, a large part of his brain expected to be greeted by the bullet he never sees coming but probably deserves. Instead, he sees something slightly more painful. The serious yet compassionate face of Colton Ormond is at his door, which tells Scott everything he needs to know. Scott's shoulder's slump, and he wants desperately to reach for the booze while he still can. He needs it to get through whatever happens next.

"I'm lookin' for a man by the name of Scott Feila. The kind lady at the front desk was tellin' me how he's got this room for some time now. You him?" The Sheriff's voice was still pleasant, even though Scott sensed some sort of interrogation or arrest was about to go down.

"Yeah,I'm Scott. Sorry, you took me by surprise. I'd been napping." That part isn't untrue, and he wishes he could go back to the world of dreams. The thing about the world of dreams is that if he stays there long enough, everything painful disappears, and eventually Eleni finds him and leads him through the forest and a maze of glowing doors. It's all quite nice. The waking up is the shitty part.

Colton smiles a bit but his mannerisms are serious. "Scott, you got a girlfriend who lives in the the beach cottages on Ivy Lane?" 

"She's not my--" Scott stops himself, shoulders slumping again. "I do. I stay in that house sometimes, but it's her place. I've lived in the hotel since I came to the Parish." He pauses a minute, knowing he shouldn't ask questions to which he'd rather never know the answers, but he needs to know. "Is she alright? Did something happen?"

Colton motions for Scott to step outside the room. "I'm gonna need you to come with me so we can talk about what happened at that house. I'm sorry to say nothin' good occurred. That's a new part of town and there needs to be some better security, I'll tell you that."

Scott turns to go inside the room, retrieving his wallet and keys from the table, and taking a long swig from the bottle of Jack. He can feel Colton's eyes focusing disapprovingly, but the Sheriff doesn't say a word. Scott is a thirty-five year old alcoholic, and it's not likely to change anytime soon, unless he ends up in jail. He does, however, manage an apologetic smile. Knowing the truth about what you are and having few regrets over that truth are two different things. Scott has many regrets and yet not enough to change. C'est la vie, he thinks to himself with an internal shrug.

"Is she alright? That's a stupid question. You don't come here to say that people are alright, do you??" Colton's face is the sort that is scary in its lack of emotion. It is the calm but regretful face that police and doctors and priests have before they tell you someone died or you have cancer, or some shit like that. Scott doesn't like looking at it. His heart beats more quickly and the other reason Colton would be here hits his body like a shock of cold water. "Wait, did you come to arrest me or something? I've just been here."

Scott gestures to the crowded, whiskey-scented room that still smells faintly of Ali's cotton candy body spray shit within the booze. Attempt to not look freaked out and overly defensive failed, Scott sighs internally. He isn't the one who is normal when life goes wrong, and it had gone very wrong. Fuck. Now there's a Sheriff.

"Only if you did something to get yourself in trouble, son. If you did, that's another matter for another time. I'm here because I got you down as the emergency contact for a young lady named Alisaundra Andel." Colton's face still has that look that makes the blood in his veins feel like ice.

Colton clears his throat, a bit nervously. It's the voice of a man who hates these difficult personal situations as much as the person he's talking to hates listening. "I can't say she's okay, no. I'm sorry to tell you there was an incident at the house. Three young ladies were taken to the hospital, along with two men who were fortunately not harmed but gave eyewitness accounts. It was your standard break-in. The perpetrator was kinda bold and reckless. Thinkin' drugs, most probably. "

Scott's brow pushes together. "Three young ladies? It's just Ali and her roommate who live there. Did they have someone over?" Anger bubbles up inside him thinking of Lala, and the likelihood she called Iona. It is a good guess.  "The house was robbed? Okay, we can fix that, but is Ali okay? You said you were here because of Ali. Can I see her?" Things aren't making sense in a lot of ways, and he just wants to hear the Sheriff say everyone is fine.

Colton looks at his notepad. "Three young women between the ages of nineteen and twenty-six, and two men in their early thirties were all taken in for treatment and questioning. Another woman, aged forty-three, was not hurt and slept through the attack. She isn't considered a witness. These sound like your neighbours?"

He nods his head, not wanting all the little details. Scott wants to know about Ali. It occurs to him a moment later to process the fact that Lala was also in the hospital. I didn't touch her. I just looked at her. He remembers with strange clarity, his hand wanting to reach for the bottle it doesn't have.  "I guess. I don't really know the neighbours. I mean, I know the woman next door, she's nice. We live in the house on the end and it's kinda isolated for being social." Scott didn't look like the bring your neighbours cookies kind of guy. He wasn't.

The Sheriff chats, almost amiably, on the way out of the hotel. "The three that were able to give statements all described the same things. There were voices shouting, glass breaking, high-pitched screams, and figure of a man with a bag running away. It's the typical home invasion, something I've seen way too many times. It's always regrettable when people get hurt,"

Colton pauses, and it registers in Scott's mind that he said hurt, which meant not dead. "If you're not there with those girls all the time, I'd be sparin' money for an alarm system. In this case, you were damn lucky to be out. One girl has plenty of defensive wounds, but she couldn't subdue the guy. Think we're lookin' for a big fella who don't know any of y'all. Do you see the girls bringin' men like that home?"

Scott is quiet as they walk outside the hotel, his mind whirling. The police think there was a break-in, and they're looking for not me. Ali must have told them it wasn't me. He thinks a mile a minute. Why would she do that?  "The girls don't bring men home at all. They're there with me." It isn't the most intelligent thing Scott can say to help himself. It definitely isn't the least suspicious. Somehow, pride makes him say it.

An amused smile clicks over Colton's face as if Scott's answer explained a lot to him. "Son, you're awfully quiet. There somethin' you need to add to the account of what happened?" There is a brief note of compassion in his voice. "The girls went through some trauma, but all external injuries. Nothin' of a more..erm..personal nature, if you're frettin' over that."

Scott nods his head slowly. "Yes. I mean, no. I don't have anything to add. I was just thinking about Ali. I'm hoping she's okay and not in pain." His face contorts slightly. "What happened to them, the girls at the house? They're all alive, right?"

"Son, that's why we're walkin' to the hospital. The two girls who were in the house suffered blunt force trauma to the head. The dark-haired one is very uncooperative and unwilling to have her blood drawn. She keeps calling the nurses "Dracula". Maybe you can get her to settle herself."

Scott chuckles a little. "That's Lala. She's Romani. She believes in all kinds of curses and spirits and voodoo and shit. She probably thinks that if you take her blood, you'll create a blood spirit to haunt her." He smiles, thinking of Lala and her bouncy figure and crystals and herbs that smell like home. "She's feisty but she means well. She's a free-spirit, you know?"

Colton's face finally breaks, and his more relaxed guffaw escapes. "Yeah, she's a handful. If they're both yours, I'd have a room somewhere else too." The Sheriff laughs, shaking his head a bit. "The blonde one is sweet as pie. She looks way too young to be away from home, but we get that a lot here. Neither of them is remembering' a thing about what happened, which is the damnedest thing. Unfortunate for the case, but amnesia isn't uncommon with head injuries. We're hopin' they get their memories back and can identify the suspect."

The Sheriff looks up at the sky,  picking up the pace as he notices the clouds darkening to rain. "The blonde had surgery to reduce the swelling in her brain and the brunette lost a lot of blood. They both had a lot of glass removed but neither was needin' a plastic surgeon. It's a damn shame this goes on here but they'll be right as rain before you know it.

When Scott doesn't say anything, Colton pats him on the back. Scott feels it in the way he would watching a movie of himself. "The blonde girl isn't very communicative. It's like someone went and took all the fightin' from her. The other one, she makes up for it. Like I said, she's easily agitated. She needs to be sedated, but good luck with that. Her body is still fightin' somethin' that ain't there anymore. We see that a lot with the tougher ones, soldiers and the like." The Sheriff lapses into silence, before adding, "Son, these girls went through a lot, so don't push them. Be gentle.Just a warnin'. Not everyone handles the hospital stuff as easily as others."

Scott nods his head, rushing to keep up with the Sheriff. He wasn't used to so much walking and exercise. "But they'll be okay, won't they?" He asks the question breathlessly. "And who was the third girl? Was Iona there?"

Colton snickers. "Iona's been in and out of the hospital visiting. She's a real pill, that one. No, the other girl was the neighbour next door. Name's Eleni, a pretty little widow. Met that one before. I think my Deputy is a bit sweet on her, tell you the truth. I never took her for the brawlin' type, bein' as thin and proper-like as she is. She heard the girls callin' for help next door and tried to subdue the robber. Mostly defensive injuries on her, and she checked herself out AMA as soon as we checked her in. That means "against medical advice". She ain't one for listenin' much, but a fearless lady. Might make a good cop."

Eleni. Eleni made everything look like a robbery, and fought with Lala. A smile crosses Scott's face. She erased their memories so it's like that night never happened. He can't help but feel his heart open and want to hug Eleni tight. She always protects him, even when he doesn't deserve it.

As Scott sees the hospital, he's practically running. Colton wants to beat the rain, but Scott would prefer the rain to exercise. Fuck, it was a lot of running. He might have to check into the hospital, too. "Okay, I get it. You hate the shit weather here. We're almost there. Can we slow down?"

Colton laughs heartily. "What's wrong? Can't keep up with an old man tryin' to beat the rain?" He does slow down, walking at a more deliberate pace toward the hospital. "Remember what I told you about not upsettin' the girls? They're in a fragile state of bein'. A heart attack, that would upset 'em."

Emmaline Ravenel isn't cultured or elegant about the way she enters and exits rooms, but when she agrees to meet Marius for lunch, she is wearing ripped jeans and a tight fitting t-shirt. She hides much less, and instead, looks like your average teen who likes the alternative scene and has a Hot Topic nearby. Her sneakers squeak as she walks by, a noise that makes her grit her teeth.

She chose to meet him at Luigi's, the local pizza joint. It didn't get much attention, being on the wrong side of town and surrounded by industrial spaces, a repair shop, and other less than aesthetically pleasing things to keep them company. It felt dirty and gritty and Emmaline liked that. She also liked the street art that decorated abandoned buildings and old cars that were more like works of art than functional items.

Emmaline orders two slices of pizza and a beer and slides into a booth, waiting for Marius. He is late, which makes her impatient. She is only here because of him, and she hopes he doesn't have any intention of being stood up. The crazy adventure with the bartender and the weird dude and the wicked hangover she'd had for two days after had turned Emmaline's sadness to a general anger at the world. She is tired of being overlooked.

Marius comes running by, dressed in a pair of shorts and sneakers that aren't in much better shape than Emma's, and this makes her laugh. When he sees her, he puts on a shirt. She responds in a teasing voice, and says, "You don't have to be modest for my sake. You want pizza?"

She doesn't wait for an answer, and points to her lunch, indicating she'd like to order another. Luigi, or whoever works the pizza place, doesn't go out of his way to make chit-chat. He just nods.

"I think I do, Em. It's good to have manners." Marius flashes his bright smile, and puts bills on the table. "For the pizza. It's my treat, you just didn't wait for me! Since when do you drink beer in the middle of the day?" His eyebrow lifts in inquiry.

"Since I decided I felt like drinking fucking beer. And people call me Emma now, not Em. If you let the world shorten you too much, no one sees you." She enjoys the defiance and the pizza, not feeling like being polite to the man, no matter how many times he flashes the dimple in the corner of his upturned white smile.

"Emmaline! Ladies don't speak that way." Marius shakes his head. "I get it. You're angry, and you have every right to be. I'm sorry I haven't been---more available for you since you got into town. But I called and texted and made sure you were okay. It's more than I've been doing for most people. I've been going through some stuff."

Emma just stares, taking a sip of her beer. "Yeah? I've been going through some stuff my whole life. And I'm not a lady. I don't plan to be. Life is too short not to be real."  Her eyes glare pointedly at Marius.

He simply sighs, not oblivious to how difficult she is being, nor that she wants to be. "You know, Emma, I think you're right about that. I've been struggling with that idea myself. It's why I wanted to meet with you today, to talk about something."

Emmaline's head lifts up. "Talk to me? I thought you were going to fill me in on the things I needed to know about the Parish, the people, the history, and all of that. I've already met two crazy dudes." Her chin juts out as if she is proud of this place. "It was actually kind of exciting. I did shots and met a psycho dude with a mask like in the horror movies. We went to a place that looked like an abandoned crack den."

Marius is obviously making an effort not to take the bait, though his hands flex together and his knuckles crack. "I think you'll meet a lot more, which is why it's important to be careful out there. I do want to talk to you about that. I can't be with you all the time, and you're old enough and independent enough that I shouldn't be. I do want you to be careful. You saw the choices your mother made and I'm not saying I didn't make some of the same ones. Don't go down that road, Emmaline. You can rebel without self-destructing."

Emmaline slinks down into her seat, not saying anything. "I've been fighting with myself since before you got here, Emmaline. I wanted to tell you, but I didn't know how. Instead, I tried to make myself do the right thing but it only made me miserable. I wasn't being, as you would put it, real."

Her eyes gaze at his with sudden interest, the hazel showing a spark of light. "Oh, yeah? You've got a secret? What kind of secret have you been keeping?" The playful tone returns to her voice, though she doesn't know she sounds like an immature young girl trying to be flirtatious.

"Emmaline, be serious. You have to stop that. Please, Em. You can't talk to me like that, like we're--"

"Like we're what? Lovers? Mates? Husband and wife? Pledged to each other?" Her eyes are hard as they stare in his direction.

"Yes, like that. You are too young to have anyone thinking an old man like me--it's just not right." A blush colours his cheeks, and he amends, "It's normal for young women to flirt, but when it seems like more, it's improper. People get arrested. Some have their lives ruined. This is what I mean by behaving like a lady."

Emmaline sighs dramatically, taking a bite of pizza, and pulling the pepperoni apart. "Okay, fine, then. Eventually, though, you're going to flirt back. It's how it works." She pauses, not liking the awkward silence. "If I stop doing that in public, will you tell me your secret?"

Marius exhales, visibly relieved. "Yes, and thank you, Emmaline. Emma." He smiles and picks up his own pizza, newly arrived while he was fretting over her behaviour. "I've been alone for a long time, Emmaline. Never a one-night stand or a love affair or so much as a woman who has spent the night at my place. Believe me, I've wanted to, but I couldn't. It hasn't been easy. I'm no saint.The honourable things in life aren't easy."

She narrows her eyes, a little jump of excitement in her heart.. "First you tell me I'm too young to flirt, and now you tell me you've been celibate and saving yourself for shit--for me? Does that mean you're finally ready to make it all official?" She goes back to her playful mannerisms, wiggling her ring finger.

"No, that's not what I meant. Emmaline, please. This is very difficult and it would be easier if you let me finish." Heat rises into Marius' face, which Emma thinks is adorable. Even though he's a little old, he's still very handsome.

"This is what I have to tell you. It wasn't planned but it was bound to happen at some point. I met someone, and I pushed her away so many times she may never want me. But, Emma, I love her." He stops suddenly, his body jolting at the heaviness of his own statement.

He looks slightly pale, a nervously apologetic sort of man. "She is this beautiful, compassionate woman I can talk with for hours on end. She is a widow, and so she understands how things can be very complicated with families. I don't know how she feels about me, but she has been very patient. I have made her feel rejected and unwanted and I want to apologise to her. But first, I need to apologise to you, Emmaline. I'm sorry if waiting for me has caused you grief. I tried to think of you having a happy life all these years."

Emmaline toys idly with a piece of green pepper, not meeting his eyes as the words start to make sense. "I plan to ask her to be a part of my life, to be more than my friend.  I know that for her that involves physical intimacy as well as the emotional aspect of life. I couldn't have that knowing you would be coming to me soon". Marius breathes in, heat radiating from his body. "I think she would love you like a sister would, and that would be good for you, Em. It would be something close to normal for all of us. "He shrugs, as if indicating he isn't sure what normal is anymore.

She sits unnaturally still. It is the calm before the storm and it's almost frightening. "It sounds like you have your life and mine all figured out,then. What do you want from me? It doesn't sound like you want my opinion on anything."

He lets out a small sigh. It was unfair of her to say, but nothing about this situation was fair. "I want your blessing, Emma. It is important to me to know I haven't wronged you. I want you to be a part of my life, more than anything. I am not abandoning you. I never would do that. You are my family. It isn't in the way we always thought it would be. I want to call you my daughter, Emmaline, because I'd be proud if you were."

Emmaline drops her pizza, almost flying across the table at him. "Are you fucking kidding me? That is not your choice to make. You act like you're just a regular guy with no obligations. What about me? I am your obligation, or have you forgotten that too?" Anger surges through Emmaline, as she hears words that tell her once again, she's being tossed to the side. "There's a lot about what you want in there. What about what I want? I want to be important too. Did it ever occur to you that I want to be loved by someone, and not looked at like a child?"

Marius nods his head, seeming less than surprised by her response. "I have thought of that. I have thought of how it is right to find that love with someone your own age. There is someone out there you will choose, not someone who was assigned to you before you even took a step."

Emmaline's hand crashes against the table with a surprising amount of strength. "It is the blessing of the Goddess that declared us bonded. That can't be erased because you want to live like a normal guy and fuck pretty girls. You know you don't have the choice and I don't have the choice. You can never walk away from me. Never. Think of me as your own personal albatross."

Her hazel eyes burn like fire. She doesn't remember the last time she felt so angry and so helpless at the same time. He has no right to reject me. It isn't even his decision, but now I'll spend my life knowing I wasn't enough. The fury is laced with pain.  "You want what? My permission to act like I never existed? You don't have it. I deserve better. This is not why I came here." She folds her arms across her chest, her whole demeanour echoing hostility

She stares in something approaching hatred, watching as Marius frantically runs a hand through his hair. He looks like a man trying to comfort himself. Emmaline sees a man who only wants to handle the uncomfortable situation and have it done with, and she hates him for not crying. "I will always take care of you, Emmaline. I will love and care for you like a daughter. In my mind, that's what you are and always will be. I can't love you differently, no matter how many years pass. Temptation, I can avoid that. Love is something different. Love has a way of making you see the truth."

Emmaline bites her lip, her face red with emotion. "And you don't love me? You still wear your ring. We are still connected. We were made for one another and you can't undo the link you're born with." Tears pooling in her eyes, she chugs what's left of her beer. "You mean to tell me that whole "You need to come and meet your father" bullshit, that was supposed to be real? That's how you were going to play it? I'll be seventeen in three months. I thought we would be married here, where we are accepted and could build a life."

Marius' voice explodes suddenly, louder than he planned it to be. Luigi's head turns before he has the discretion to look like he isn't listening. "I don't want that life, Emmaline! I've been a good man and done right by you and that promise all these years. It's not about not wanting you. You've grown into a beautiful and intelligent young woman who speaks her mind. You are the best of the people who created you."  A sort of helplessness takes over, and it's obvious he doesn't know how to explain.  Emmaline wants to hurt him.

"It's not just that you're young, it's that I waited for you the way some watch children grow. I was denied happiness twice. I didn't get to see a daughter grow, and I didn't get to see a beautiful young woman become my wife. Instead, I've lived a life of loneliness because of some blessing? It's a curse, Emma."

It is becoming harder and harder for Emmaline to hold in the tears. "That's it, then. You brought me here to tell me I'm a kind of curse and you're done with it?"

His voice lowers, and he speaks more calmly. "It's not you who is the curse, Emmaline. You're beautiful and smart and going to do wonderful things. It's this whole idea, the way we live, waiting for a child to grow into a soulmate. It isn't natural, Emmaline, it just isn't."

Emmaline's voice hits back at him, the hiss of a snake. "Natural is exactly what it is. It is ordained by nature and by the Goddess. I am not your daughter, I am your wife. No one gave you the power to pick what I mean to you. You do not even have to say the words or agree, it already is. There's not a damned thing you can do to change that."

He looks exhausted, as if he'd aged five years in less than an hour. "Emmaline, it is nothing to do with who you are. It is not a rejection of anything but an antiquated tradition. I'd feel this way about anyone in this situation. When you wait for someone long enough, you hear about her growing up,  you feel that connection to her and want her to be safe and happy and loved. You can't imagine loving her in a different way when she's grown to feel like a daughter. I can't treat you as a wife when you feel like a daughter. It's not right. Can't you understand that?"

Marius toys with his ring, the feeling of tears threatening to push at his eyeballs. "Imagine what it is like to be told your future wife is almost seventeen years younger than you, but true love waits. Imagine suspending all your desires and needs for love and companionship for that many years. I know you understand, but most of your life, you've been too young for those things to be a part of your life. Imagine waiting for something for the next seventeen years."

Marius' eyes look sad, as if he is reliving loneliness. "I'm not a bad person, Emma. I did wait. I did love. I am sorry my love didn't take the form you were told it would, but no blessing or curse can dictate that. "

Her face is red and struggling to keep the emotion in check. She is her father's daughter, even if Marius is not truly her father. "You waited, and then when I grew up, you decided you didn't want me. Instead, you planned to do your thing around town and tell everyone I was your daughter? Do you not honour the old traditions at all?"

Marius puts his head in his hands. This is going very badly, worse than he expected. "Yes. Emmaline, that's what I planned. Although I am not your father, I think you need one. I care about you the way a father would. We can't be bound together as husband and wife by some outdated concept when everything about it is unnatural. We can't change what we feel. "

Emmaline bites her lip, trying her best to keep her fury contained. "You mean how you feel. I grew up waiting for you, my whole life. I turned everyone away who wanted me, made it seem like I was going to enter a fucking convent because you can't tell your friends you're promised to some old dude who sounds like Prince Charming."

Her voice quivers, full of rage and sadness and loss and even more rage. "Did you ever think of how I felt? Did you ever think I wanted to go on dates or pick colleges? I did. It didn't matter because there was you and there was the destiny I'm meant to fulfill. My mother wasn't strong enough but I am. Now it seems like you're just as weak and selfish."

His face says enough to tell her he hadn't thought of how her life had unfolded in a little bubble, but now there is regret spelled out plainly on it. "I am sorry, Emmaline. I know it has been a tough road, for both of us. But it cleaned up my life, took me to the military, and made me a decent person. It made sure you finished school, turned into a beautiful young lady."

The Navy man's eyes drift to the table, a sort of wistfulness in them. "Yes, Emmaline, you are a lady whether you want to be that or not. This made sure you didn't get knocked up by some junkie and pregnant before you could finish school, like your mother did. Maybe it was that promise that saved us. That is a blessing. You, Emmaline, are a blessing. The promise given to us saved us for different lives, not one together, not as husband and wife. That would turn it into a curse."

Emma tries to say something, but the words simply don't come out. Instead, there is a lump in her throat and her arm brushes over her eyes. What the fuck is she supposed to do now, alone?

Marius sighs, and looks at the heartbroken girl across from him. "Emmaline, imagine you could choose. If you had been raised as a normal human girl who could choose anything, you would not come here to choose me. You're angry because you've lived an entire life being told your life was all planned out. I do understand. I lived the same way."

His eyes are open, sincere. "It doesn't have to be. I don't want to live that way, Emmaline. Maybe I don't uphold the old traditions as much as I should, but it's why I like it in the Parish. A world full of people who think they have no choices suddenly do."  Marius offers Emma a soft, reassuring smile, taking her silence for calm consideration. "For all you know, I am your biological father. Fate has cursed people in such tragic ways before. How do you know it's not true?"

She shakes her head viciously. "No! It can't be true because I have faith in the bond that connects us. I would not be destined to marry my own father. I get it, my mom was a crazy junkie whore and it could be a lot of guys. But Luna knows the truth, and she knows it's not you." Emmaline folds herself up, feeling as invisible as when she arrived. "How old is she? The woman you supposedly love who wants you in her bed? How do you even know that's not all she wants?"

A smile moves across Marius' lips, and Emmaline hates it and him. She can tell it's because he's thinking of the other woman. "She is twenty-three, but I suspect that like us, age is something different. She seems much older, and she has been through a lot in her life. I think you would like her, if circumstances were different."

"So she's not even--" Emmaline's head shakes no, to everything. "I don't know what happened to you, but you can't decide you don't want me anymore as soon as some witch casts a spell on you. I'm a person too. I am the one meant to be your wife, the mother of your children. You and I continue a legacy. No, you don't have my fucking blessing. I did not get to choose you. So what? That doesn't give you the right to choose someone else."

Marius looks at her with a face full of regret. It appears almost painful for him as he removes the ring he has worn for almost seventeen years, and slips it into his pocket. "I am sorry, Emmaline. With or without someone else, this will be the right choice for me. I will always value our bond and wear this as a reminder of a promise when you're ready. For me, it is the promise of a father to a daughter. I hope, in time, you can forgive me and accept it as enough."

When she doesn't say anything, he tries to reach over and take her hand in his. She pulls away as if his touch is toxic. "Em, I never meant to hurt you and I have never disrespected you. I know now that I do have the right to choose and I want to. If it makes me a rebel or outcast for not wanting an arranged marriage, I accept that. But remember, Emmaline, you can choose too. It's possible to choose love and honour obligation. We are still a family. One day, I will hold my grandchild in my arms and know it all worked out for the best."

Once again, she feels as if she were created only to be discarded and invisible.Emma glares at him, and though she holds the tears in, it is an effort. She manages to utter a simple, firm word, before storming out of Luigi's.

"No."

Colton makes his way into the hospital, exhilarated by the fact he beat the rain today. He doesn't like running either, but he hates the rain and the wet socks and the yellow poncho more. Trying to hide the fact he's breathing slightly harder than he should, he smiles a little at the nurse behind the desk. Sophia. The name tag announces who she is. For some reason, Colton always notices name tags.

The Sheriff points to Scott, and says, "He's here to see the girls in room 711."

Sophia's pink lips perk up into a coffee-fueled smile. "Oh, that's nice! That room is busy. Those girls have more flowers than they know what to do with."  She lifts her gaze to Colton, and offers two manila envelopes.  "These are the results you've been waiting on. Sorry for the delay. It would be nice if everything could be handled in-house, but we just haven't got the resources."

Scott shuffles nervously at the desk. "I..well...I already fucked up. I forgot to bring flowers or a teddy bear or shit like that. I didn't get much warning." 

Colton laughs as the perky Sophia stares at Scott, with his tattoos and colourful language. Her expression suggests he's an alien from another planet. "Son, I doubt they care much, but there's a gift shop down the hall. Just turn right."

"Thanks. I'll go find something cheerful." Scott doesn't really look like the example of a guy who should be left to figure out "cheerful", and Colton's amused look lingers as the aging rocker ambles down the hall. :

Looking up at Sophia, he nods. "Thanks for everything, though. We'd know nothing about anything without you guys."

She lowers her voice, and says, "The lab left a third envelope for you, one with the anonymous patient. Do you want that one too?"

Colton nods his head, his throat suddenly dry and his palms itching oddly. "Please. I'll take them all back to the office with me." He is dying to open the envelopes, all of them, but he doesn't trust himself to do it here. The Sheriff takes the third, thin envelope from Sophia, and nods his thanks.

His heart beats faster and everything feels unbearably hot, even though the hospital is one of the few places with decent air conditioning in the Parish. Colton puts the briefcase up on the counter, the one thing he never lefts out of his sight. He sticks two of the envelopes into one of the file pockets. The third, he pushes into a file within a file. That pocket is well-hidden, though if anyone were close enough, they could see the maps and a travel magazine pushed in there.

Colton feels slightly dizzy as his eyes dart around, looking for signs of Scott. Behind the travel magazine, clear as day, is a blue file folder like so many around his office, records of everything that happens in Aubrey Parish.

This folder isn't like the others. In faded but neat block lettering, the tab shouts at Colton before he quickly pushes it and the new envelope down. With a click, the briefcase closes.

It's a shock to his system every time he sees it. It is boldly labeled, and the name feels like it haunts him.

"Avendon, Ava."