When Scarlett had gotten into bed, Dinah began to read to her from "Beauty and The Beast." They'd been working their way through what it seems like a lasting chapter, but Scarlett was exhausted from preschool and drifted off before her mother could finish the longish chapter.

Dinah closed the book and sat it to the side on the soft green carpet, and turned out the light and turned the nightlight on. Cool air flowed in through an open window. Dinah yawned, making a sound that reminded her of rocking her daughter to sleep as a newborn. Scarlett's eyes fluttered and she spoke softly, "Daddy?"

"He's working late at the hotel, my little angel bug."

"When's he coming back home?"

"Not that long, I promise."

"How many hours?"

"An hour or two."

"Tell him to come in and kiss me?"

"I will. Get some rest baby girl. You got preschool tomorrow," Dinah knew Franco wouldn't be home in an hour or two. She would had to give Scarlett a second kiss. She had a hatred feeling about lying to her daughter, she couldn't tell her the truth, not yet anyway. There a thick hatred layer between Dinah and Franco and a thin layer between Dinah and Scarlett.

She took her eyes off her daughter and onto her oversized stomach, rubbing it gently. She knew that Franco wasn't at work, he was off screwing women and getting wasted.

She heard her heart pounding and screaming to run away from her abusive husband, but she couldn't. She knew Scarlett loved her father and she couldn't take her away from him.

Just as she wander into her bedroom. Her phone buzzed from an unknown caller, and her heart hammered.
Something was strange...

Bracing herself from the caller, she punched connect.
"Your friend...," a low voice rasped. "He's dead, Jasper is dead."

Sweat beaded on Dinah's neck. The voice was familiar.

Dinah's fingers tightened around the phone. "Who is this?"

"Jasper is dead..."

"Who are you?" A trembling started deep within Dinah. Her neck poured with sweat. Same unknown caller, every night she put Scarlett to bed. The voice was soft, yet raspy. Female? Or prankster on the street?

"I know what you did. What he did...," A raspy breath. "You...you have to pay for what you did."
+++
Sixteen years later...

Scarlett turned her full attention towards America and crossed her arms together at her abdomen. "Sleep is overrated. Sometimes you have to sacrifice the fact that you can do without it. Just like sex," she said hovering her fingers over her cell phone, replying back to her boyfriend Jake Fultz. "For you, you can't live without either of them. You crave it. Sex is your drug," she continued to speak, hitting the send button.

Scarlett stretched her stiff arms and sat down on the uncomfortable and stiff mattress that the University had provided for each of the twelve dorm rooms. The Cafè Barn sat in front of the dorms. This was where everybody attend breakfast, lunch, and dinner.

"Are you going back home to Michigan tomorrow?" Scarlett asked, adjusting her long dark-brown locks in front of the mirror that hung beside her bed and stared deeply at her soft green eyes into the mirror.

America shook her head slowly. "I'm thinking about staying in New York. All that feuds between my family and I...I don't think it would be for the best if I came."

Scarlett flashed a reassuring smile. "It's going to be alright, America. You can stay with my family."

"I don't know," America turned her direction towards Scarlett once again and her smile faded. "Let's head to bed."
..........

Scarlett's body ached as she lay half-asleep. She turned her head and glanced at Annabelle, clutching the latest edition of OK BANDS! against her chest as if it were her own life. "Good, you're up! I can finally gossip at the latest edition," America said squeaking. Sitting up in her twin-size bed, glancing at the magazine in front of her she excitedly squealed, "You should have seen me earlier. I went full crazy over the edition."

Scarlett smiled. "How did you got that latest edition if there isn't a store nearby?"

America closed the magazine and glanced her ocean blue eyes towards her best friend. "Knox went and got me one. He's so sweet and kind."

"Knox?" Scarlett asked, she knew most of the people attending the University and none of them were Knox.

"You never met him before?" America asked.

Scarlett shook her head, agony. "Never have seen him in my life. Have you rethought staying in New York?" she locked her eyes on America, who was tearing through the magazine, eager to consume her monthly dose of gossip news and favorite band. With a gushing look that her favorite band, Fall Out Boy made it in this edition, Scarlett knew America didn't hear her. "America!" she yelled, making her best friend jump from her skin.

"Yeah?" America asked, trying to catch her breath and slow her pounding heartbeat. "Sorry I wasn't paying attention, say again?"

"Have you rethought about staying in New York?" Her voice repeated over and over again. She knew America wouldn't change her mind about leaving Canada.

"Not at all. You know that when I make a decision, I don't change one bit of it."

"So you're not coming back to Michigan?" Scarlett asked America, trying to draw her in.

"No. You sound like a broken record, repeating the same thing."

"That reminded me of how my father would repeatedly say the same words over and over again. It was like his cruel and abusive words were on loop. Being replayed over and over again."

"Don't let those haunting memories taunt your mind. He's a better person now after joining that rehab group. Who watched Lux and Ash while he was in rehab?" America closed the magazine and sat it on the edge of the bed.

"Zander. He's so good with the kids, they all get along."

"And what about Jake?"

"He get along with the kids too. Not as much as Zander and them do."

"I see. Do you remember when our elementary school teachers made us do five things about us?" America asked.

How could Scarlett forget that? It was how the teachers made the students bond with each other. It how there weren't any fights. It how Scarlett became friends with America, and how Scarlett met Zander and Jake. Without the five things about us, Scarlett would have never met America,Zander and Jake. Would never met her boyfriend and best friends.

"Of course I remember that. How could I not remember how we first bonded? It was about how we didn't like-"

"Bananas and that we believe and protested it shouldn't be a fruit," America cut Scarlett off. "How did you and Jake first bond?"

"The bond over Reese's cups and Skittles. It's our favorite candys beside gummy worms."

"Cute. We should get ready, can't be late for this final exams." America stood and stretched as she gathered her books together.

Scarlett grabbed her trusty old blue book bag and headed out with her friend.

Scarlett professor's room screamed anxious and that she didn't belong there.

Scarlett faced her professor and locked her green eyes at Chandra's salt-and-pepper pompadour and fleshy features. She squeezed through the crowd, trying to get to her seat. Passing up a redhead, it jogged her memory and looked familiar from the character in the book she read a few weeks ago.
The air was a little bit of everything, Scarlett could think of. Sweat, voices, and blood. The voices blurred through the air as the professor yelled out names back and forth. Her raspy New Jersey's voice echoes throughout the room.

"Sit by me at lunch!" A voice yelled over the professor's voice and overtop of Scarlett.

"Have you seen Barbara new haircut? She looks peculiar," Another voice spoke while chuckling.

"Where you going for winter break?" The last voice spoke between Chandra's voice.

"Good morning everyone! Your exams are on your desk. Get your pencil and an eraser. You know the drill after finishing an exam," Professor Hilton said.

"Professor, I didn't get one."

"Who said that?"

"Me. Scarlett Chase."

"Please come and get one."

"Omg. It's the girl who survived the attack. Is she the only survivor? I wish she was my friend. She would keep her friends close and safe and her enemies closer," A voice spoke as Scarlett past.

"She should sit by us at lunch. Who knows if she was the only survivor. Let ask her at lunch."

Professor Chandra handed Scarlett the copy of the final exam as she sat down at her desk, reading about an unsolved crime. The women had a noose fastened around her neck with her legs bent in a way that you were able to see the bones. Turning the first page and starting the exam, she stared at the questions and wondered if it was even in the lecture notes.
+++

Scarlett watched a minivan pull into the parking lot that was covered in a blanket of snow from the night before's snow storm. She noted the windows were tilted and a yellow "Child On Board" placard was dangling in the window. Professor Hilton stepped out of the vehicle in her heavy coat, blue ballistic vest, blue jeans, and a baseball cap with the words:

'Grandmother knows best' written across the cap.

"Thanks for coming Professor. Do you think you could drive me to my dorm? It is fully dark outside and would be dangerous to walk alone at this time of the night."

Chandra shook her head. "Scarlett, I can't do that. Professors aren't like friends you can trust and steal a ride from. Professors are there to give you lectures in a class. I'm sorry, I wish I could help but I can't," Chandra said, closing her minivan door and leaning against it. "Besides, I have to get back home so that my granddaughter can be safe and sound with her mother. Again, I'm sorry I couldn't help. I'll see you and everyone else tomorrow."

With that, Chandra got in her car and drove off as the snow began falling heavy and thick.

"Scarlett Chase?" an unfamiliar voice spoke behind her. She turned her head and faced a women in her early twenties with golden blond hair and dressed in a formalwear. "You don't know me but I'm in your friend's pre-law class. Why are you outside on a cold snowy night?"

"I was walking home as night fell. Sorry, I'm in your parking lot," Scarlett said walking off. She hoped she would be asked to come inside. She was frightened to walk in the dead of night with hardly any street lights that could light her to her dorm.

"Calm down, it's all good," the women said, leading Scarlett into the brick and stone building that was one of the few dorms in the University. Like most dorms, the first floor was the lobby and few storage rooms along with a restroom. Scarlett took a glance at the women's revolver that was in her purse, showing it off like it is a piece of masterpiece.

"Training to become a part of the police force?" Scarlett asked, while stepping on the elevator that had a golden metal door. "You never told me your name."

"Wilma Gray and I have this gun from a shooting range I went to. Got to keep myself safe from danger, or what my parents like to call, 'stranger danger.' I'm thinking about joining the Police Athletic Association in Toronto after I finish my major in Pre-Law. May I ask what your major is?" Wilma said pushing the sixth floor button.

"Journalism." Scarlett asked, leaning up against the wall in the elevator. "Wilma, I would appreciate it if you can call America Ackerman to pick me up. I do wish you luck with training to know how to shoot. Do you ever wear those glasses and ear protection?"

"Of course! I can't shoot without them or I be either deaf or blind. Maybe tomorrow I can take you, if you like. Don't want to shoot my eyes out."

"I would love that. The only thing is I have never shot with a gun before," Scarlett said, remembering back to when her father used to go to the shooting range with her grandfather. She always wanted to learn how to protect herself from strangers itself.

"That totally fine. I wasn't a pro when I first started but I learned and I believe every women should be confidence and use a gun," Wilma stated, she raised her hands in the air. "But hey, I don't tell anyone what to do or who to be."

"How far is it from university?" Scarlett asked, staring at the clock, realizing it is five minutes until seven and still no sign of America. "Have you texted America yet?"

Wilma nodded. "No text from her yet. Maybe she is out partying or not near her phone. It's three miles away from the university. When we get there tomorrow, I'll bring you to Trigger. He is the one who taught me how to shoot and got me a gun. I don't think he would mind to teach you or get yourself a gun."

"Is that his real name?"

Wilma shook her head, agony. "He is called Trigger of the way he shoot. A perfectly good aim at bottles and targets. Another reason is that he can go off like a gun in any minute," her phone vibrated, she stared at the message and it was from America. "She is on her way to come and get you, Scarlett."

+++