High school graduation is one of those things you never expect to actually happen.
You fixate on it for so long, you always imagine life after school, but you never really expect it to come, and when it does, so many students wind up completely unprepared and flapping in the wind mere months later. Leaning against the lockers, waiting for Scarlett to finish her makeup in the nearby bathroom, Wyatt was looking at his neatly manicured nails when he heard a snicker from beside him. He glanced and noticed Rachel Minnow sitting on the floor - also in her graduation gown - sitting there, doodling. "What?" Wyatt asked, somewhat grinning. "Nothing, just never seen a guy look at his nails the way you are," she replied. "Oh, it's only cause my girlfriend did them so they'd look good today," Wyatt said, "I can see you're not a believer in proper hygiene though." "Hey, my nails are perfectly fine, thank you," Rachel said, setting her pen down in her book and looking up and down the hall, sighing, adding, "it's weird, right? This whole thing is weird? The fact that come an hour or two from now, we'll no longer be students? Hell, we never have to be again if we don't want to. College isn't an outright requirement." "This is true," Wyatt said. "I never thought this would actually happen. School is so long, it just seems like it would go on indefinitely. I never really thought the day would come when I'd be an adult," Rachel said, "it's...scary." "It is scary, yeah," Wyatt said, "but hey, look at it this way, school is full of assholes, right? So at least after today, we'll probably never see any of these people ever again. That's pretty good, right?" Rachel thought for a moment, then nodded. It was good. She didn't like basically anyone at the school, save for Sun Rai, and after today she'd never have to interact with any of them ever again if she didn't want to. If only she knew that, ten years later, she'd be stuck right back with the people she vowed to never see again. Life's funny that way. *** Wyatt pulled up to Calvin's house early that morning. Calvin was disheveled, wearing sunglasses, and had a plastic grocery bag full of snacks. Wyatt smirked as he climbed into the car and Calvin pulled off his sunglasses momentarily, smirking. "What?" he asked. "Didn't realize we were goin' on a picnic," Calvin said. "Hey, we can't just blow him up immediately, it needs to be remote detonated, but it has to happen at the most random time, so we might be here for a while. You're free to have some of what I brought," Calvin said as he buckled his seatbelt. Calvin started up the car and began pulling away, heading to Grudin's first Tuesday stop, his local bank. As Calvin sipped his coffee, he sighed and looked at the styrofoam cup in his hands. It had come from Rachel's place of work, and he smiled. How weird it was, to be here ten years later, with the same exact people. He glanced over at Wyatt and cleared his throat as they pulled to a red light. "You ever think about the fact that we barely spoke in school and now, here we are, about to commit a murder together?" Calvin asked. "Please, let's not call it a murder. It's a mercy killing," Wyatt said. "Whatever verbage you need to use to soften the blow to your morality is fine with me, I just think it's weird," Calvin said, "you know...I just never really thought I'd see you or anyone from school ever again, and yet here we are. Not that we ever interacted much in school, but still. The whole idea is weird, but I guess that's what happens when people never leave the town they went to school in." "I always sort of assumed that I'd have left this place at this point in my life," Wyatt said, "Never wanted to work for my dad, but I couldn't resist the offer, especially once Scarlett got pregnant. He quite literally made me an offer I couldn't refuse." Calvin chuckled as he reached into the bag and pulled out a travel sized bag of chips, pulling it open as Wyatt continued. "Believe me, if I could've just taken Scarlett and run for the hills, I would've in an instant," Wyatt said. "I couldn't stand being that far away from my parents, they're my best friends," Calvin said. "That's sweet." "Especially after losing my wife and kid, they're really the only ones I feel like I can depend on," Calvin said, "besides, what with my sister having run off, I couldn't leave them completely childless like that. It would just be outright cruel. We need eachother." "Well, you're lucky," Wyatt said, "...wish I was blowing my dad up instead." The red light turned green, and Wyatt sped off, heading towards the bank. *** Sun Rai was making herself breakfast when the knock at her door, urgent sounding in its intensity, surprised her. She put the butter dish lid back on and headed to the front door, opening it to find Rachel standing on her porch. Each woman had the look of sheer surprise to see the other, but Sun Rai finally stepped aside and allowed Rachel inside the house. "Your parents aren't here?" Rachel asked. "No, my mother took my father to a doctors appointment," Sun Rai said, "Do you want some toast? I'm making toast." "No, that's okay, thanks," Rachel said, walking down the hallway that connected the foyer to the rest of the house, looking at all the pictures of Sun Rai on the walls and smiling to herself, "...I guess this is kind of weird, right? Just showing up suddenly?" "I did it to you, so it's only fair," Sun replied, making Rachel laugh. "True, true," she said, "uh...god this is hard. Okay, so, like..." Sun walked towards Rachel and Rachel stepped backward, stammering, blushing. She had so much she wanted to say, so much she wanted to admit, and yet she couldn't do it. Despite waiting literal years to have this discussion, dreaming it would never happen, she now somehow found herself woefully unprepared. "You don't have to say anything," Sun Rai said, and Rachel shook her head. "No, no I have to, I have to say that I have been in love with you since high school and that I never could've expected you would feel the same way about me and that I'm terrified and-" "I never have liked a woman before," Sun said, shrugging, "but there's something about you...so considerate and beautiful, so funny, I can't not like you. But you don't need to say anything about it, because I believe you. I believe it's hard to admit it, and I just want you to not feel you owe me any sort of explanation or anything, because you don't." "I'm a screwed up lady, Sun. I...I gave up my dreams, I have some pretty severe mental health issues and I'm involved in some things I probably shouldn't be, but...I can't ignore a decades worth of feelings, you know? No matter how scared I might be, I just can't ignore the fact that you're here, that you actually like me, that we wound up working together. To ignore that would be like giving the middle finger to destiny." Sun Rai threw her head back, laughing, which made Rachel feel better. "I wanna try it," Rachel said, "If you want to." "Of course," Sun Rai said, taking Rachel's hand and pulling her closer, then touching her face and pushing her lips against Rachel's. Rachel shut her eyes and kissed Sun Rai back, eager to finally, after a decade of fantasizing, taste her. Needless to say, it didn't disappoint. As the kiss ended, Rachel blushed, laughing nervously and looking at her feet. "I'm sorry," she said softly, "I'm just...I'm not very good with romance." "Come have some breakfast," Sun Rai said, leading her to the kitchen. Rachel nodded, following happily. In the midst of all this bullshit, she could use some domesticity for a change. *** Grudin's schedule on Tuesday saw him hit the local bank, then do a stopover from some light campaigning at a college before heading to lunch. They figured lunch would be the best spot. Something so ordinary and mundane would certainly made it seem less sketchy and suspicious that his car would randomly explode. He'd arrived early for lunch at his regular spot, a bar and grill called Rudy's, which meant Wyatt and Calvin were sitting in Wyatt's car across the parking lot, keeping a keen eye on both Grudin in the restaurant and his vehicle. Grudin always took a window seat, and Calvin had even made a map of the interior of the restaurant, marking which seat was his. Wyatt shoveled chips from the bag into his mouth, wiping the dust on his pants and sighing. He glanced over at Calvin, who was making some kind of notes, and he adjusted his seat so he could lean back a bit, opening up the sunroof so he could feel the sun on his face as he relaxed. He knew he had to be alert, but he figured he could take a moment for a breather. "At least he gets a full meal," Wyatt said. "Alright, ya know what, you don't get any of my snacks anymore," Calvin said, "besides, he ordered nothing but a patty melt and a shrimp cocktail." "Good last meal, actually," Wyatt said, picking at his teeth. Calvin smirked and went back to looking through his binoculars. Wyatt readjusted his chair and sat back upright, holding the remote detonator in his hand and looking it over. He glanced from the remote to Calvin and raised an eyebrow. "How did you learn to do all this?" Wyatt asked. "Took shop class in high school," Calvin said, "that got me interested in building things, but I kind of fell off the interest once I got married and had a kid. Once Grudin killed my wife and child, I just knew I wanted him to suffer in a way as painful as they did, and blowing him up seemed like the easiest way, funny as that may sound. If we have remote detonator, how are they going to pin that on Oliver? I mean, wouldn't he have to be alive to detonate it?" "Well, maybe he had an accomplice and after he died the accomplice still carried out the plan," Wyatt said, "in memory of his partner in crime." "Mmm. Just seems like there's a lot of gaps in this situation," Calvin said, "but whatever." "Grudin's a politician, and not a very well liked one at that despite doing well in the polls. I'm willing to bet that his family would prefer to have him buried and move on without much investigation," Wyatt said, "I mean, politicians make a ton of enemies. Is it really worth the effort to track down all the possible suspects?" "You may be right." Grudin paid his check, stood up and pulled his jacket on, then picked up his doggy bag of leftovers and headed for the door. Calvin snapped his fingers repeatedly and pointed to Grudin on the move. Wyatt sat upright now, clenching the remote in his hand, sweaty as sweaty could be. "He's heading to his car," Calvin said. "I don't think I can do it," Wyatt suddenly said, making Calvin look at him. "What?!" "I...I don't know," Wyatt said, "I feel...sick." "This was your fucking idea!" "I know, but...but I can't kill someone, I was...I was talking out my ass, and I..." Calvin snatched the remote from Wyatt and snarled at him. "I'll do it my fucking self then," he said angrily, but Wyatt fought for the control back, the two men now wrestling in the car. Grudin exited the restaurant and got into his car. He put his doggy bag on the passenger side seat, and then he attempted to start the car. Wyatt felt the control in his hand, and he instinctively clicked the button. It was all over so fast. The explosion was immediate, and afterwards, both men sat there in utter shock. They waited, afraid to drive away as that would look suspicious, so instead they slid down in their seats, hoping nobody would see them. Unfortunately for them, they'd be there for a few hours, hearing the sirens get closer, and the people chatter. *** Leslie Grudin was standing in her kitchen, preparing her daughter's late afternoon snack, the both of them singing along to the music on the radio. Their daughter, Michelle, was homeschooled thanks to a learning disability, and Leslie was happy to have her daughter around. The house got so lonely when Robert wasn't around, and she appreciated the company. As Leslie set down the plate of apple slices and cheese on the table, she stroked her daughters hair. "There you go sweetheart," she said, "What are you drawing?" "A picture for daddy," she said. "I'm sure he'll love it," Leslie said, kissing the top of her daughters head and going back to the sink to wash her hands when she noticed the cop car pull up in front of the house. She continued smiling, thinking that was just where they were parking to visit someone else, never once considering that they were, in fact, there for her, to deliver the worst news of her life. It wasn't until the knock at the door that a knot formed in Leslie's stomach. She went to answer it, and there the cop stood on the porch. "Can I help you?" she asked politely, her voice wavering nervously. "Ma'am, I-" the cop started, until he noticed Michelle sitting at the table, "why don't you step outside?" Leslie did as she was told, shutting the door behind her. "What's going on?" she asked, her voice now stern, but still scared sounding. "It's your husband," the cop told her, "there's been an...incident." Whatever he said after that, Leslie didn't hear. All she knew was that Robert was never coming home, and that that picture their daughter had spent the afternoon drawing for him would never be seen. She listened to what the cop told her - an explosion of some kind, the car blown to bits - but she didn't really take any of it in. All she felt, after the initial coldness, was a growing rage. Oh sure, she'd expect the cops to try and figure out what happened, but she instinctively knew it was a vendetta of some kind, and she vowed to herself then and there that she'd rectify the situation. No matter what it took. *** "Robert Grudin is out of the race for election," the news anchor said solemnly, "after his vehicle exploded abruptly this evening, and the hopeful potential elect was killed inside it. Police have their suspects, but no arrests have been made thusfar. The main suspect is also deceased. Still, the community mourns a man who could've been great for them, had one angry individual not taken him away from us. This is-" The TV clicked off. Calvin leaned back against the couch, exhaling, as he rolled his head and looked over at Rachel who was seated on the couch alongside him. Rachel looked at Calvin, bit her lip and shook her head, then leaned forward and buried her face in her hands, running them up through her hair. "...I can't believe this," she whispered, "I can't believe it happened. It all just seems so surreal." "That mother fucker," Calvin muttered. "What?" Rachel asked, turning and looking back at him. "That was my goal, my decision, and he took it away from me. I was supposed to do it for my family, and he took my vengeance out of my hands," Calvin said, "mother fucker. I never liked him." "Why?" Wyatt asked, stepping back into the living room, beer in hand, Celia right behind him; he sipped the beer then asked again, "inform me why you never liked me." "Because you always had to be the center of attention!" Calvin said sternly, standing up now, almost face to face with Wyatt, adding, "and now look what you've done! Nobody asked you to do this for me! Nobody asked you to...to take away what was rightfully mine to do! He destroyed my family!" "Calvin, I just saved you from a lifetime of prison, alright? Trust me, you would've been one of the first people they looked at. That situation was highly publicized, and you two were closely entwined. They would've come for you almost instantly. What I did was divert that attention to someone else, and give us a bit of breathing room to figure out what our next move is." Wyatt sighed, wiped his mouth on his jacket sleeve then sat down on a nearby ottoman, Celia seating herself beside him. "Now," Wyatt said, "...let's figure out a way to make sure this never comes back to us." "They've already pegged Brighton as their main suspect, you heard them," Rachel said, "I mean...what else could we do to alleviate ourselves of any wrong doing?" "We just need to get our stories straight, so everything lines up," Wyatt said, turning to Celia, "and if nothing else, we have a lawyer to back us up." "An environmental lawyer, you idiot," Calvin said coldly. "So...what do we do now?" Rachel asked. "We make sure none of us deviate from the story, and we stay in close contact. If anyone comes asking anything, we deny everything. None of us were ever anywhere near Grudin, except Calvin from the accident, but otherwise we know nothing and had nothing to do with it. Until that day comes, and if that day comes, we go on with our lives, just like normal." "Just like normal," Rachel said, echoing Wyatt softly, "right." Whatever normal was, though, Rachel didn't know. After the group split and went their respective ways, Calvin too left his house and drove to the cemetery. He picked up some flowers on the way, and when he arrived he walked through the mostly empty graveyard until he found his wife and daughters graves. He sat down between the two headstones and laid the flowers - splitting them in half - one each grave. Calvin looked up at the sky and thought about what had happened that day, and the last few days in fact. He'd done the right thing, sure. Robert Grudin was dead. But that vengeance didn't bring his family back. Was that why he felt empty? Who knew. But he took the victory for what it was. Meanwhile, Wyatt picked Mona up from her afterschool group and drove home. He found Scarlett making dinner when they got home, and the family all ate together as if nothing was wrong. As if Wyatt hadn't just blown a man up earlier that afternoon. Scarlett smiled at him like nothing was wrong, because, to her, nothing was wrong. She knew nothing about what he'd been a part of, and if he did his job, she never would. That night, after she'd fallen asleep, Wyatt sat in bed and watched the news coverage which seemed to take over every channel. All he saw were pictures of Grudin's car, in some state of burning at all times, and of course Grudin himself. He listened to people talk about their colleague, their friend, the hopeful electorate, but Wyatt didn't feel bad. Until he saw the family photo. They put the family photo of Grudin with his wife and their daughter on the television, and Wyatt honed in on the announcers voice. "Grudin, of course, leaves behind his wife, Leslie, and daughter Michelle. Michelle, seven years old, is homeschooled due to a learning disorder, and was reportedly confused when her father didn't come home that night. Leslie Grudin has struggled with how to break the news to her. Our hearts go out to this poor little girl, and this family, left in tatters." Wyatt muted the television. Grudin's daughter was just like his. He felt like he needed to vomit. He stood up, went to the bathroom and washed his face, looking at himself in the mirror, before he went to Mona's bedroom and watched her sleep. He sat on the side of her bed and gently stroked her hair. Wyatt suddenly felt like the worst person in the whole world. How could he have done this? Rachel, however, felt the best she had in years. She and Sun Rai went out that evening to see a movie and get dinner and do some browsing at a local bookshop. Holding hands most of the night, it was the thing Rachel had always dreamed of. She never once thought about Robert Grudin, and she didn't even considering what she'd been involved in. All that mattered to Rachel right then was this moment, with Sun Rai. At one point, when Sun Rai was looking at a book of ancient architecture from various cultures, Rachel - a bit down the aisle from her - casually looked over and admired her, smiling to herself. And Celia...well, Celia went home that night, and let her son sleep in her bed while they watched movies and ate ice cream. She tried not to think about what had happened, about what she'd gotten involved in, but when she saw the same news report Wyatt had, after her son had fallen asleep, she too couldn't help but feel sick. She tried to ignore it, drinking half a bottle of wine, but it didn't do much besides slightly calm her nerves and help her eventually fall asleep. Things would be strange for a while, she thought as she began to drift off to sleep, but eventually everyone would move on, and nobody would remember the incident. Robert Grudin would be buried, and the past would be the past. Besides, as the news even put it, the main suspect was already dead considering it was being pinned on Oliver Brighton, and who would look into a dead man? Celia put her arm around her son, pulling him close to her and breathing his smell in. She smiled, and fell asleep. *** A phone rang. It rang again, and this time a hand reached over to the bedside table, until it wrapped its fingers around the phone and lifted the receiver to the face in the bed, half asleep. "Hello?" the man answered groggily. "Brighton is dead," a voice said, "I don't know if you've heard." "What? When did-" "The other day, killed himself and his family. He's being blamed for a local politicians death as well," the voice said, "which means they'll likely begin investigating Brighton closely, which means they could find his connection to us. We need to do something, or the business runs the risk of being exposed." The man sat up in bed and rubbed his forehead. "Alright, I'll get on a plane and head back," he said, "I'll see what I can find before the cops do. If Brighton's smart, he put all the product somewhere safe, somewhere not easily traceable. I'll call you when I get there." The man, Leonard Wattson, hung up and sighed. He then got up from the bed, got dressed and started packing a few suitcases. He then walked back into the bedroom from his walk in closet and shook his head. Production would have to stop for a while, but the girls deserved a break. They'd been working hard lately, and he could see they were tired. He then headed down the hall, towards the front door. He'd buy his ticket in cash when he arrived at the airport. As he passed the photos hanging on the wall, he stopped and looked at one, shaking his head again. The photo was of the history class he'd once taught, and sitting near him in the front of the photo was Oliver Brighton. His best supplier was dead, and he would find out who did this and why. He'd worked hard for years to hone Brighton's abilities, and now it was all gone in the blink of an eye. Someone had pushed Brighton to do what he'd done, this much he was certain of, and when he found out who, and why, there would be hell to pay. He wasn't about to let not just his best supplier but also his entire empire come crashing down simply because of the murder of a local politician. He'd free Oliver of these claims, find out who had connected him to Grudin's death, and make right of the whole thing, the whole time believing he was truly doing good when in fact he was just as bad as Brighton himself. He was just protecting his assets, illegal as they may be. As he slammed his front door shut, the photos on the wall swayed, and the class photo fell to the floor, the glass cracking upon impact.
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Calvin stepped back from the table and smiled. He was looking down at his creation, his bomb, then grabbed a nearby damp washcloth and cleaned his hands of the grime and sweat that had accrued on them from working on this today. Finally, after months and months of reading about about to properly make an explosive device, he'd accomplished it, and he was happy. Calvin needed coffee. He exited the shed, locked it behind him and headed across the backyard, mug in hand. He reached the patio and stepped up, slid open the glass door and got into the kitchen. He found his father had already made a pot, and he poured himself a cup, then headed back outside. Standing on the patio, looking at the shed from across the lawn, he couldn't help but feel accomplished. He was suddenly surprised when he heard a knocking at the side gate, and he could see a woman's head peeking over the top. Calvin furrowed his brow.
"Is he back there?" Wyatt asked from behind the fence. "I think I see him," Rachel said. "Well hurry up, get him to come to the gate, you weigh a ton," Wyatt said. "Don't say that to a woman!" Rachel replied. Calvin sighed, set his mug down on the table on the patio and headed to the gate. He unlatched it, just as Rachel was climbing down off Wyatt's back. Calvin stood and stared at them, as Rachel smoothed out her shirt and Wyatt got off his knees, wiping the grass stains from his pants. "What the hell are you doing?" Calvin asked, half bemused. "We know how to kill Robert Grudin and not have you pinned for it," Rachel said, "We just need your bomb." "...come in," Calvin said after a moment, stepping aside, curious to hear their plan. He shut the gate again once they were in, locking it and biting his lip. Calvin followed them to the shed, unlocked it again and let all three of them inside, shutting and locking it from the inside once again. He then turned to face them and asked, "so, what's your plan?" "I don't know if you saw the news this morning, but Oliver Brighton killed his family and himself," Rachel said, "remember Oliver? We went to school with him? Kinda lanky weird kid?" "Yeah, that narrows it down," Calvin mumbled, making them smirk. "Anyway," Rachel continued, "he worked for a company that was set to destroy natural property for high priced condominiums, and we figure if we kill Robert Grudin, everyone will suspect it will be an act of revenge from Brighton." "Why would they assume that?" Calvin asked. "Because Grudin's been one of the biggest proponents of industry and giving these companies the go ahead," Wyatt said, stepping forward, "He's the one funding these projects, especially this company Morgana, and so people will learn Oliver was let go from his job, then decided to take Grudin out for his willingness to put industry before nature before killing himself." "But Brighton's already dead," Calvin said, "wouldn't it be poor timing if-" "We thought about that, and we think if we just set it so that it's been waiting to be activated then people won't think twice. This was his final act after his death, sort of a revenge from beyond the grave type of thing," Rachel said. "...your proposal is all very interesting, but Grudin is my target. He killed my family," Calvin said, "by shirking that responsibility-" "By shirking that responsibility," Rachel said, interrupting him, "you'd be in the clear, Grudin would be out of the picture and Morgana would be under investigation for their shady business practices. It works out in everyones favor. I know you feel you need to do this for your wife, your daughter, but...but don't throw your life away for this piece of shit, Calvin. You don't deserve to lose that too." Calvin looked from Rachel to Wyatt, who just shrugged, and then back at Rachel. She was sincere, and he knew that. He had to admit, he hated the idea of going to prison, and he did enjoy his freedom. Calvin sighed and nodded, setting his mug down on the table. "...alright," he said, "but if we're doing this, I'm the one placing it. At least grant me that much." "Of course," Rachel said, smiling and hugging him. It'd been a long, weird, winding road, but it was all finally coming together, and in a day or so, Robert Grudin would be dead, and Calvin Klepper would not only have his revenge but be free of any blame. He had to admit, he did kinda like blaming someone else for his poor decisions. *** Calvin Klepper had been tracking Robert Grudin's movements for over a year. He knew his schedule, down to a tee, and he kept a highly detailed log of his excursions. He even noted the days he made stops somewhere else, just to make sure that, when he finally exploded him, he wouldn't have someone with him. Grudin was the only one Calvin wanted, he didn't need collateral damage. Sitting in the car together that afternoon, watching Grudin's car from afar, Wyatt couldn't help but feel awkward being here with Calvin. Rachel had to go back to work, leaving Calvin and Wyatt alone together. Calvin bit into the cart burrito's he'd bought them just around the corner, and chewed, binoculars still to his face. "So..." Wyatt said, "uh...about your sister." "Don't, just don't," Calvin said. "I just...I guess we should talk about it. I should explain myself." "There's nothing to explain," Calvin said, "you hurt her and now she's not here. Simple as that." "No, because it's not simple as that," Wyatt said, "your sister was awesome, I just...I didn't know how to explain that to her, nor did I know how to deal with liking her. I was a star baseball player, man. I was popular as shit. Peer pressure does weird things to an adolescents brain. I certainly didn't intend for her to get hurt. Besides, once I met Scarlett, anything I might've felt for your sister was gone." Calvin slowly looked at Calvin, finished chewing, then said, "...she doesn't talk to us anymore, do you know that? She's so distraught from feeling unlovable that she doesn't even communicate with her own family anymore because, to her, anyone is a liability intimacy wise." "I'm sorry, man," Wyatt said, "For what it's worth, my feelings were genuine." "I believe you, that's the sick part," Calvin said, "but that doesn't mean I forgive you for it." "Look, I know what you've been through sucks, losing your wife and daughter, and it must make you angry, especially at anyone else who might've been mean, even if incidentally so, to anyone in your family, but Calvin, if I hadn't met Scarlett, I...I would've taken her out, I really would've. I couldn't ignore my feelings, even with my popularity at stake. I was a high school boy, sure, but I wasn't an asshole." "...yeah, that's kind of the thing that's confused me for years about you, actually," Calvin said, "I wanna be angry at you, but you seem so genuine that it makes it difficult to hold a grudge." Wyatt laughed, which made Calvin chuckle a little. Wyatt hadn't thought about Calvin's sister in a while, but it wasn't like he never thought about her. Sure, Scarlett was the love of his life, he couldn't deny that, but Calvin's sister, Amelia Klepper, was such an interesting girl, and he'd been so smitten with her that he was actually nervous about being around her, something he'd never dealt with when dealing with women he'd been interested. "So...you don't know how she's doing?" Wyatt asked quietly. "Not really. I get an e-mail from her once a year, maybe," Calvin said, "sort of an infodump about her life, but divulging nothing of real note. I like to believe she's happy and doing well, wherever she is and whatever it is she's spending her life doing." Just then Wyatt pointed out the window and they both slid down in their car seats. Robert Grudin had walked out of the building, unlocked his car and climbed inside. He started the car, and pulled away, just as Calvin did the same, maintaining a safe distance so as not to seem suspicious. They drove for a while, nearly heading across town. "Of all the days I've noted," Calvin said, "the one day he never does anything with anyone else is Tuesdays. That's the day when it'd be perfect to strike." "Alright," Wyatt said, "god, if you'd had asked me months ago where I'd be now, I certainly wouldn't have said this." "That's the thing about loss that I've learned," Calvin said, turning to follow Grudin down yet another street, "it makes you desperate to protect what you really love. You never really know how far you'll go to save something until you're pushed to that edge." "...I have a daughter in elementary school, her name's Mona," Wyatt said, "we recently got her diagnosed with ASD, and ever since then, all I've wanted to do is protect her and make the world a better place for her to exist in. I'm so sorry about your daughter, Calvin, I...I can't even imagine not having mine in my life. That sort of grief must destroy a person." "They were my entire world," Calvin said softly, "and when you lose your entire world, it makes you wanna burn down the rest of the world with the loss." They didn't speak for the rest of the afternoon. *** Rachel pulled into the parking lot and parked harshly, seeing Sun Rai sitting on the hood of her own car, drinking a coffee. Rachel got out of her car and stood there, the two women staring at one another. Rachel approached Sun's car and stood in front of her, not saying a word, just staring at her. After a long moment, Rachel finally took a long deep sigh and spoke. "I'm scared," Rachel said, "I'm sorry I left so suddenly, I'm just...I'm scared of being hurt." "That's totally understandable," Sun said, "I can quit the job if that makes you more comfortable. I'm sure I could get something else." "No, god no, I...I love working with you. It's so great having you around," Rachel said, "this was always kind of my dream, dorky as that sounds, was us being together, doing something together, just...having fun. But now that my dream is a reality, I guess it frightens me. I lost everything after school, and I'm so not the girl I once was, and I guess having you back is sort of like being able to almost reclaim that girl I was, and that feels good but also scary. She was so uncertain of herself, of everything around her." "Yeah, and you're so not like that," Sun said, smirking, making Rachel chuckle as she sat down on the hood beside Sun, picking at her nails. "I guess...I just need to think about things," Rachel said, "I was almost assaulted during college and it...it really screwed me up for intimacy. Just give me some time, okay?" "Take all the time you need," Sun said, "I mean, let's look at my life, it's not like I'm goin' anywhere." They both laughed and Rachel laid her head on Sun's shoulder. All she'd ever wanted was this, but after seeing how Calvin had turned out from loss, seeing how Oliver reacted to losing something, she just couldn't bring herself to risk that. Not yet. Maybe sometime, but not yet. Just not yet. *** That evening, Celia, Rachel, Calvin and Rachel met in Rachel's dingy apartment, seeing as she was the only one with any real kind of privacy. Sitting on the couch, everyone watched Wyatt give his little presentation as he explained the plan he and Calvin had formed. "Here's the rub, guys. Robert Grudin was paying off Morgana to do this pre-construction, and his plan was that once he was elected, he'd officially fund their projects, damaging the environment for decades to come. Oliver Brighton worked for Morgana as a safety consultant, and was fired because he didn't prevent what Celia and I did on Halloween night. As a result, Oliver killed his family, then himself. But we think we can also pin Grudin's death on Oliver. We can take Oliver and make him a local hero, a fighter for what's right, a defender of the environment. Sure, what he did wasn't okay, but if it gets the heat off us, then it's worth it," Wyatt said, pacing. "And how are we going to do that, exactly?" Celia asked. "Good question," Wyatt said, "Calvin's built a bomb. Grudin killed Calvin's wife and daughter a few years back, and never took responsibility or faced legal repercussions as a result, and Calvin wanted revenge. If we can make it seem like Oliver left this bomb as one last measure, to take Grudin out for what he was doing with Morgana and for being fired, then Calvin gets his revenge and Grudin faces consequences and Brighton winds up an environmental martyr." "...sounds good," Rachel said, not really there. She stood up and walked to the little kitchenette, looking around for a glass and a drink. "This is ridiculous," Celia said, "how do you think we're going to get away with it? Won't they just-" "Yes, they would've questioned a bomb left after his death, but the way we see it, Grudin's made so many enemies, that any kind of investigation would lead to quite a few people, and Brighton would be the most obvious choice, considering his recent activities. People are just going to automatically assume he did this, because, well...look at what happened to him. All we gotta do is place the bomb, make it seem like it's been waiting to be triggered, and kaboom, the end of Grudin and our problems." Celia noticed Rachel off in the kitchen, and she stood up and headed to speak to her, leaving Wyatt and Calvin to discuss their plan. "Hey," Celia said as she approached Rachel, "you doing alright?" "I've been having a weird few days," Rachel said, "...someone I've loved for a long time finally admitted they like me, and I...I just don't know how to react." "Wouldn't you be happy about that?" "Under normal circumstances, sure," Rachel said, "but I'm scared to get that close to someone again." "Look at the people in this room, Rachel," Celia said, as they both glanced back at Calvin and Wyatt, "Calvin lost his family, my husband left me and my son, and Wyatt is the only one with any kind of family, but he isn't sure how to keep them safe. We're all scared to be close to someone. That's just...what relationships are like. You get scared. But isn't the good they bring also worth the risk?" "I don't know, is it?" Rachel asked, "I guess that's the million dollar question." "That's something only you can answer," Celia said, "but let's put it another way. Do you wanna be Wyatt, with his wife and his children, or do you wanna be Oliver, who hated himself so much he wiped out his own lineage?" Rachel looked down at her glass and shrugged as Wyatt and Calvin approached the girls in the kitchen. "Alright," Wyatt said, "this coming Tuesday, we do this. You guys don't have to do anything. In fact, go to work, because that will give you alibis if ever needed. Calvin and I will take care of this, and we'll meet together once it's over, alright?" "Sounds like a plan," Celia said, with Rachel nodding. As everyone left, Rachel was finally alone again. She pulled the curtains on her windows shut, went into her bedroom and sat on her bed, thinking about what she was about to be involved in. She was about to have a hand in exploding a local politician. How had things gotten to this point? She couldn't be involved with someone, she couldn't risk getting them involved with something this ridiculous and dangerous. Rachel laid on her back and stared at the ceiling overhead, exhaling. She realized what everyone was risking, and here she was, too scared to risk even loving another person. Maybe she deserved to be alone. *** Calvin was sitting on the patio that evening, sipping iced tea and staring at the shed, when he heard the glass door slide open and saw his father, Barry, exit and sit in the chair beside him. Barry and Calvin smiled at one another. "Nice night," Barry said. "It really is," Calvin said. "Terrible what that man did, isn't it?" Barry asked, "That guy all over the news?" "Oh, right, yeah. I can't imagine someone willingly taking away something so great," Calvin said, "I miss my child and wife so badly, and here's a guy willing to just destroy that firsthand. Despicable." "I mean, we don't really know what was going on with him, but still," Barry said, "either way, those poor little girls and that woman didn't deserve to suffer because of his shortcomings and failures. You know, I know it may seem rude of me to say this but...you can start over, Calvin. There's no law that says you have to grieve forever. I know plenty of young women who'd be happy to go out with someone like you." "Thanks dad," Calvin said, smiling as he swirled the cubes of ice in his glass, "but I'm alright for now, just being on my own, with you and mom. Maybe sometime later, when I'm ready, then I'll consider it. For now, grief is...comforting. It's become something I'm used to. I know that probably doesn't sound healthy, but...it's good." "I totally get it," Barry said, "your mother and I love having you here. At least one of our kids wants to be in this family." "That isn't fair, Amelia was always weird, she doesn't-" "I know, I shouldn't judge her, I just...I miss her," Barry said. "She'll come home eventually," Calvin said, "trust me." "I hope you're right," Barry said, opening up the newspaper he'd brought out with him and starting to read it. Calvin looked back at the shed and sipped from his glass, thinking about his sister, thinking about Wyatt, and thinking about this weird fucked up friendship he now had with all these one time strangers from high school a decade prior. *** Robert Grudin read his daughter a bedtime story that night, then joined his wife on the couch in the living room to watch late night TV. Sitting there, laughing at a monologue, holding hands with his wife, Robert Grudin had no idea that in 48 hours he'd be blown to bits. But that didn't matter, because all that mattered was this moment, living right here, right now. Hell, he didn't even notice the man in the driveway, kneeling under his car, wiring up a bomb. When finished, Wyatt stood up and wiped the sweat from his forehead, then looked through the window from afar, noticing Grudin and his wife. For one brief moment, Wyatt felt a pang of regret, but he knew this was something he had to do. And then he saw their daughter join them, and his guts twisted even more. He grimaced, turned and walked the few blocks to his car, got in and drove home. When he got there, he kissed Mona's forehead, careful not to wake her, before entering the bedroom and finding Scarlett sitting on the bed, doing a crossword. She looked up and smiled at him as he shut the door behind him. "Hey!" she said, "where'd you-" But before she could finish, he walked up to the bed, climbed on and kissed her heavily. She didn't resist, and even kissed him back. "I love you more than anything in the world," Wyatt said after the kiss, putting his forehead against hers, lacing their fingers together. "I love you too!" she said, giggling, "What brought this on?" Wyatt thought for a moment. "Seeing that guy on the news...kill his own wife...just made me realize how lucky and grateful I am to have you, to have the kids," Wyatt said, "that's all." "Well that's sweet, even if kind of sick," Scarlett said, making him laugh. They laid on their backs on the bed and cuddled, and as she felt his fingers go through her silky hair, she shut her eyes and sighed pleasantly; she asked, "did you ever think, when we first met, that things would be like this one day? That this is where we'd be?" "...no, I really didn't," Wyatt said, recalling the things he'd recently gotten involved with, "I can definitely say it's been a surprise." Oliver Brighton had been a great student.
He'd been on the honor all throughout grade school, he'd been class valedictorian and he'd been so well put together that even Wyatt Bloom had been kind to him on the few occasions they interacted, which was surprising as Wyatt often had a habit of making fun of some of the more academically gifted students. Oliver had always been helpful, considerate, compassionate. He'd started an animal rights group at their high school, he'd courted his future wife in such ways that made her friends jealous, and he was often employee of the month at his yogurt job in college. So how does a man like that turn around and kill his entire family? Well, it's hard to pinpoint the exact spot where things started going downhill, but for Oliver, it was fairly easy to know. Contrary to popular belief about people who just snap, it was never a specific moment. He'd always been a monster in the closet. *** "Okay, fair enough. What should I do?" Oliver asked, following he as she started to walk back to the group of men. "Find another job," she said, which stopped him in his tracks. "Wh...what?" he asked. "I'm sorry, Oliver, but this is too big to ignore," Melinda said, "I have to deal with this. You're fired. Not my orders." And with that she turned away and headed off to deal with the men. Oliver stood there, staring at the sight, aware his world was crumbling around him. Oliver turned and slowly walked back to his car. He got in, shut the door behind him and just stared at the sight in front of him. He felt rage building inside him. Everything he'd built up for himself, in a legitimate career, had suddenly come to an abrupt end. Oliver reached to the glovebox and opened it, looking at the handgun in it, then shut the glovebox and started the car. He then started the car, and started to drive away. He didn't know where he was going. All he knew was that he needed to drive. He had this burning sensation in the pit of his stomach like he'd swallowed a bucket of lava. He had always been perfect, had a spotless track record, and now he was going to be seen as a screwup, a failure, a giant liability. Forget ever getting work with any other companies, because after hearing about this, there was no way in hell anyone would hire him. Oliver pulled over to a local bar and grill and parked, then got out and walked inside. He seated himself at a table in the back, ordered a basket of steak nachos and a light beer. He sat and ate and drink, and just thought. He thought about his options, and eventually came to the realization that he only had one. And it could be solved with the gun in his glove compartment. *** "Girls, get your things together," Roberta said as she walked into the bedroom, seeing her daughters quickly packing. She stood in the doorway and watched momentarily, then added, "remember you don't have to take everything, okay? Clothes and shoes and stuff we can buy more of. Just pack the things that mean the most to you, alright? I'll carry it all out once you're done, just come get me." Robert turned and walked briskly down the hall, back to her bedroom, continuing to pack herself. She'd waited for this day for so long. She'd planned it to a tee. She'd finally be leaving her husband and his monstrous behavior behind for good, and she'd be taking her kids and going to her brothers house a few states away. Her husband wouldn't even know where to find her, and that was all that she wanted. Once out and unencumbered, she knew she could muster up the strength and energy necessary to start filing divorce proceedings. Whether she'd go beyond that, talk to the police about his behavior, remained to be seen. Robert's first and foremost goal was to get her daughters to safety. She heard a door open, and she groaned, tossing her dress down on top of the suitcase and heading back into the hall. "Girls, don't try and take that stuff out yourselves, alright? I can-" She stopped in the hall. Standing there was Oliver, his presence shocking her as he was supposed to be at work. Roberta tugged gently on her pearl necklace, grimacing. "What are you doing home?" she asked. "I got fired," Oliver said, "For something I didn't even do, or couldn't prevent. You going somewhere?" "I just thought I'd take the girls to my parents for the weekend, so we could spend some time alone," Roberta said, lying through her teeth, "You know, just have some private time like we used to." "That sounds nice," Oliver said, slowly walking down the hallway. It was then that Roberta noticed the gun in his hand. She tensed up and tried not to draw attention to her nervousness, pulling her eyesight away from the gun in his hand. Oliver stopped in front of the bedroom door and looked at it. He pushed the door open a little and reached inside, grabbing their oldest daughter who was 7 by the hair, and dragging her out into the hall, putting the gun to the side of her head. "Oliver, what-" "I could make sure we have alone time forever, if that's what you'd prefer," he said, "I provided for this family, and you're trying to leave? After all I've given you?" "What have you given us besides PTSD?" Roberta asked, immediately regretting her snark, "I'm sorry, that was wrong of me. I just...let her go, okay? Let her go, and let's go and talk about things. I know things haven't been good for a while, but the girls have nothing to do with that. They're tired, Oliver, they're tired of everything you make them do, and I think it's only fair we let them go live with my family and I'll...I'll get a job, okay? That'll cover whatever monetary loss we take and-" "You think whatever you make would even come close to what the girls manage to bring in?" Oliver asked, sighing, then releasing his grip on his daughters hair, "go on, go to your mother." As she started walking quickly down the hall, tears in her eyes, Roberta opened her arms wide to embrace her. Oliver sniffled, raised the handgun and put five bullets into the back of his daughter. Roberta felt like the entire world stopped. She dropped to her knees and wanted to scream, but nothing came out of her. Suddenly she saw their younger daughter, only 4, standing at the doorway to her bedroom, hugging a stuffed animal tightly to her chest. Oliver looked from Roberta to the girl, raised the gun again and pulled the trigger. One shot, clean through the head. Roberta crumpled to the floor. She felt Oliver walked towards her, grab her by the hair and drag her down the hallway back to their bedroom. She didn't even care anymore what he might do to her, because for Roberta Brighton, her world was already over. *** Abuse begets abuse, or at least that's the theory many subscribe to anyway. If you're abused as a child, you're likely going to abuse others as an adult. But this isn't actually the case. Surprisingly, more often than not, the abused go the opposite route, and wind up becoming the most empathetic and considerate people you could hope to meet, almost going out of their way to make sure those around them are okay. They never want someone to go through what they went through. Oliver Brighton came from a normal home with a normal loving family. He never suffered any kind of abuse of any sort from anyone anywhere. Even at school he was left relatively alone, despite being on the dorkier side of things. His mother and father lauded praise onto him, and Oliver was the highlight of his family. But that didn't mean Oliver Brighton was going to grow up to be a good man. When he started dating, he'd come off as a relatively clean cut nice guy, the sort of guy your folks would almost be thrilled to have their daughter romance, but behind closed doors, Oliver Brighton was a sick and twisted individual. He hurt these women, sexually and otherwise. Sometimes he'd just be angry, and sometimes it'd be to get his rocks off. Oliver Brighton, despite looking like someone who'd have the demeanor of someone who writes computer code for a living instead had a violent temper, one that he couldn't control, nor would he want to. He liked making the women he knew hurt. He liked making them cry. And his daughters...the things he did to them... When Roberta Falls first met him, her best friend said something about the guy seemed off, but Roberta defended him day in and day out, saying that nobody saw who he actually was the way she did. Far too many women have unfortunately been lulled into this exact sense of false security, and often met with violent ends themselves. Roberta, after a year of being married, decided her friend was right, and she no longer wanted to play house with this creep, but Oliver had other plans. Roberta didn't want to have children, but she didn't have a choice. Oliver made it happen. And once the children were in play, she knew she couldn't leave. She knew she'd forever be tied to him in some form or fashion, and that sickened her. So Roberta stayed, and she plotted, trying to come up with some way she could get out. When she finally made the decision, and began asking her brother for help, she knew her life was about to change for the better. No longer would the girls be subjected to the awful torture their father put them through, and really it was their pain that she couldn't allow. She didn't care what he did to her, but she'd die before she allowed him to continue to exploit her daughters. Turns out she was half right. *** Oliver sat on the bed, undoing his tie as he looked down on the floor at Roberta, curled up and sobbing. He sighed and ran a hand through his hair. "I tried to give you the best," he said, "and-" "Oh spare me," she replied, knowing she no longer had anything to lose so why hold back her tongue, she continued, "don't give me that underappreciated good husband bullshit. What you did to me, what you did to our children...god...you're despicable, and the fact you're trying to play victim only makes it worse." Oliver looked at his tie in his hands and sighed, turning it over. "Remember when you got me this tie? For our 5th anniversary?" he asked, "...I love this tie. You really knew me, you really knew what I'd like. I thought we knew eachother, but I guess I was wrong. I guess I didn't know you as well as I thought, because I never could've imagined you'd try to run. Now this tie will be tainted." "...what?" Roberta asked, finally trying to roll over and look up at him, but she wasn't fast enough as she felt his knees crush into her spine as he knelt on her, wrapped the tie around her throat, his hands grabbing both ends, as he started to strangle Roberta. She clawed at his hands, but she couldn't make any difference. She knew she was overpowered. "You did this," Oliver whispered through gritted teeth, "you did all of this and this is all your fault. I want you to die knowing you caused this." Roberta drowned him out as he eyes rolled back. She stopped listening, and instead focused on the one good thing she had...her religious belief. She knew that, as soon as her life was over, she would be with her girls again, and that was the thought she died with. As soon as her body went limp, Oliver rolled off of her and started sobbing. He crawled across the floor and sat next to the closet. All he wanted was a family who would obey him, and instead he got people willing to risk everything to leave. Oliver Brighton reached over, grabbed the handgun and pulled it to him, lifting it and opening his mouth. He slipped the barrel in, said a prayer, then pulled the trigger. *** Wyatt locked the car and walked around to the other side, finding Celia; he threw his arms up and asked, "what's the big deal now?" but she wouldn't answer, and instead she headed inside. Wyatt didn't question, he just followed. Once inside, she stopped at the bar, snapped her fingers and asked for the remote control to the TV, which she was quickly given. "Hey! Earth to Celia! What's the big damn deal?" Wyatt asked, but she snapped her fingers in his face and then pointed at the television. Wyatt's gaze slowly moved towards the television, which was on a breaking news report. A lovely little home in a quiet little suburb was on the television, surrounded by cop cars. Wyatt didn't recognize the place, but he had an awful feeling in the pit of his stomach. "-if you're just joining us," the announcer said as Celia turned the sound up, "then allow me to reiterate this breaking news. Local resident Oliver Brighton, safety inspector for the Morgana landscaping and construction company, is dead. It's speculated that Brighton, after a recent incident at their latest work site cost him his job, came home wherein he killed his wife and both daughters before taking his own life. As of this moment, there's not a lot of information about-" Celia muted the TV and looked at Wyatt, his jaw hanging. He slowly looked at her, and their eyes locked. "...what the fuck did we do?" she whispered. From the parking lot, a car horn beeped, and Wyatt could hear Mona shouting. "Daddy! I'm gonna be late for school!" Wyatt slumped onto a barstool and stared at the bowl of mixed nuts. He couldn't feel anything in his body anymore, and Celia sat beside him. The two sat there for what felt like hours, but were only mere seconds. He heard the car horn honk again, and the bartender looked out the window, then approached Wyatt. "Hey man, your kid is beeping your horn," he said. "Y...yeah, thanks," Wyatt said, waving him away. "...this is our fault," Celia whispered, "we caused this to happen. What we did...those poor little girls...that poor woman..." "We had no way of knowing," Wyatt said, "Hell, we didn't even know Oliver was employed by them. We couldn't have fucking predicted this." Wyatt finally stood up and composed himself, then pulled his car keys out of his coat pocket. "Where are you going?" Celia asked, following him. "I'm taking my daughter to school," Wyatt said, "and then I'm gonna find a way out of this mess." As they exited back into the parking lot, Celia couldn't believe he was just leaving. She stood there, mouth somewhat agape as he unlocked his car, climbed back inside the drivers seat and slid the key into the ignition, just as another car suddenly veered into the lot, almost hitting his. He climbed out, ready to yell at the driver, when he noticed the driver was, in fact, Rachel Minnow. "What the hell are you doing here?" he asked. "I saw your car and I knew we should talk," she said, "ya know, about Oliver." "What the hell is she talking about?" Celia asked. "I know what you guys did, Wyatt came to me, asking me for an explosive to erase evidence," Rachel said, "obviously we failed to do that. I was at work and I had to suddenly leave and I heard about this on the car radio. What are we gonna do?" The three of them stood around, completely uncertain of what decision to make here would be. That was until a bus passed by on the road, with a big banner endorsing Robert Grudin, and suddenly Wyatt had an idea. "...Wyatt?" Rachel asked, "What are we gonna do?" Wyatt smirked and looked at Celia, then Rachel. "I'll tell you what we're gonna do," he said, "we're gonna kill Robert Grudin." Calvin woke early the morning after Halloween, in a great mood.
His folks were already at work, so he tuned the radio in the kitchen and found the old soul station. Calvin smiled and started snapping his fingers along to "My Girl" by The Temptations, as he headed to the fridge and pulled out some ingredients and made himself some breakfast. He made himself a stack of waffles, with blueberries in them, and poured himself a large glass of orange juice. He then made himself some bacon and toast, then set his breakfast platter down on the table and sat down, prepared to eat. As Calvin stuck his napkin in his shirt collar, he took a deep breath. Yes. It was a good morning. And then before he could start eating, there was a knock at the door. Calvin groaned, stood up and walked to the living room. Twisting the front door open, he was surprised to find Rachel standing on the porch. "Oh," he said, "hey, good morning. What are you doing here?" "I need help," Rachel said. "Okay...with what?" "My friend needs a bomb," Rachel said, jerking her thumb over her shoulder at the car. Calvin leaned to the side and looked, surprised to see none other than Wyatt Bloom sitting in the passenger seat. Calvin scratched his head and sighed. *** "I had no idea it would do...well...that," Wyatt said as he and Rachel sat at a nearby diner that morning before heading to Calvin's. They had just ordered a large basket of fries and were sharing them, but Wyatt wasn't too hungry, so Rachel was the one actually eating them. "Why'd you do this in the first place?" Rachel asked. "Cause I...I wanted to make a difference," Wyatt said, "I've spent my life in an industry dedicated to the destruction of our planet and its natural resources, and then when my daughter was diagnosed with ASD, I just...I realized how much worse I was making the world for her specifically, and I wanted to leave her a better world than that. We just...we didn't really think things through. We didn't mean to destroy any kind of buildings or anything, we just wanted to do a little sabotage." "And now?" "Now I need to find a way to cover it up," Wyatt said, "In some way, in some capacity." "I mean, you know they're going to discover it before you can erase any evidence, right? There's no way we're getting a bomb in there before they get there today," Rachel said, grasping a handful of seasoned chili friends and shoving them into her mouth; "besides," she continued while chewing, "all that's gonna do is create an even more intense investigation." "Who said anything about a bomb? Where'd you get bomb from? Who do you know that even makes bombs?" Rachel wanted to slap herself. Wyatt reached across the table and grabbed the basket of fries, pulling them away from her. "Hey!" she said loudly, mouth still half full of fry, making Wyatt chuckle. "Rachel, tell me...who do you know that makes bombs?" he asked, his voice low. "...I got a guy," she said. "You got a guy?" "I always wanted to say that," she said, shrugging. *** Wyatt and Rachel entered Calvin's kitchen, as Calvin sat back down at the table to finish eating his breakfast. Wyatt looked around the kitchen, hands in his coat pocket, as Rachel sat down with Calvin and nervously watched Wyatt before turning her attention back to Calvin, lowering her voice so as not to alert Wyatt. "I'm sorry, I know this is sudden and weird, but he's in a nasty situation and his wife is my friend and...you gotta help me, man," Rachel said. "I got no qualms helping you, Rachel, you know that," Calvin said, making her smile until he added, pointing his fork at Wyatt, "it's him I got a problem helping." "Why? What'd Wyatt do to you?" Rachel asked, furrowing her brow. "It's not about what he did to me, it's about what he did to my sister," Calvin said, "even if it wasn't intentional, she still suffered as a result, and that's just something I can't forgive." "Do it for me, please," Rachel said, pleading, "Scarlett's my friend, and she doesn't deserve to deal with this if he gets arrested or something. Come on, Cal. I helped you." Calvin chewed his lip, then tossed his fork down on his plate and groaned. Just then he looked to the side and saw Wyatt coming up to the table. Calvin folded his arms and leaned back in his chair, watching Wyatt as he looked around the kitchen, then took a piece of bacon from the breakfast plate and bit into it. "Sorry," he said, chewing, "I didn't eat breakfast." "...so you want a bomb, huh?" Calvin asked, "follow me to my shed." Calvin slid his chair away from the table and opened the glass door that led to the backyard. Wyatt followed, Rachel behind him shutting the door as they exited the house. The three of them walked briskly across the backyard and Calvin unlocked the shed. He flung the door open and let Rachel and Wyatt enter. Calvin then came in behind them and shut the door, locking it once more. Wyatt looked around the shed, noticing the photo on the table beside all the mechanical pieces. "...this your family?" he asked. "Was," Calvin replied, "They're dead." "Jesus, I'm so sorry," Wyatt said, "I couldn't imagine losing my daughter or wife." "Yeah, it kinda destroys a person," Calvin said, "So...you do realize that if I help you with this, you can never - if caught - bring it back to me, right? I have important things to finish, and I can't have my goals hampered by whatever it is you're dealing with. Also, they likely will trace it back to you and then connect you with the prior situation as well, so be prepared for that." "Thankfully I have a lawyer on my side already," Wyatt said, "but yes, I'm fully aware of the possible outcomes. I stand by what I did. Morgana is a horrible corporation and what they're about to do is deplorable, and somebody had to take a stand." "Did you say Morgana?" Calvin asked as he turned away from the workbench, now facing Wyatt and Rachel once more. "Y...yes?" Wyatt asked, "Why?" "...Robert Grudin supports Morgana," Calvin said, "he's the one who said he'd sign off on their plans if he was elected into office. Turns out he isn't just interested in destroying families, but also the environment, good to know. Well then, if that's who we're dealing with, I'll gladly help you take him down another notch or two." Wyatt got a funny look on his face and chuckled nervously. "Why...why do you hate Robert Grudin? Who even IS Robert Grudin?" he asked. "He's a local politician," Rachel said. "And he killed my wife and daughter," Calvin said, taking Wyatt by surprise. *** That night, after going home and having dinner with his family, Wyatt Bloom couldn't sleep. He just felt nervous. Instead, he got up, walked downstairs and paced mindlessly back and forth for what seemed like hours. He wanted to scream, he wanted to cry, he wanted to laugh. The entire spectrum of human emotion flushed through him seemingly all at once, and he felt overwhelmed. How could he really do this? Celia didn't even know that he'd gotten the bomb; in fact, all he'd told her was that he'd take care of the mess they'd made, he never said how. Now that he had the answer, he found he was terrified to take the action. Wyatt sat in the living room, staring at the blank television screen, looking at his reflection. He looked haggard, worn out and sad. His hair was messy, his eyes were red and overall he looked like a former shell of the man he usually was. He thought back to Calvin, and what he'd said in the shed. As soon as Grudin's name came up, Calvin seemed all the more interested to help, but Wyatt felt bad dragging him further into a crime hole than he already was. He heard someone walking behind him and he looked to see Mona standing by the couch, holding her stuffed giraffe. "Hey little peach, what are you doing up?" he asked as she sauntered into the room, yawing, wiping her eyes. "My tummy hurts," she said. "Let's get you some hot chocolate," Wyatt said, "That always makes you feel better." He stood up, took Mona by the hand and led her to the kitchen. She hopped up onto the stool at the kitchen island and watched as her father made a cup of hot chocolate. He hummed to himself, allowing himself to get lost in this moment of pure domestic bliss, not thinking about the bomb sitting in his car or the 2nd crime he was about to commit to cover up the first. He finished making the drink and slid the mug across the island to Mona, who picked it up - both hands around the mug - and sipped it cautiously. "That better?" Wyatt asked, leaning on the island, smiling at her as she nodded and smiled; he said, "good, I'm glad." Wyatt watched his daughter finish her drink, then he carried her back to her bedroom, turned on her comfort night light, read her a story and rubbed her back until she fell asleep. Afterwards he stood up, headed to his own bedroom and crawled into bed. He felt Scarlett pull him towards her, then climb on top of him, kissing his throat. "Right now?" he asked, surprised. "We're both up, why not," she whispered. Wyatt smiled. Maybe she was right. Maybe this would be the thing to take his mind off his troubles. Unfortunately for Wyatt, and everyone else, their troubles would be threefold by the morning. *** Rachel opened the shop that morning, expecting herself to be the only one there. Honestly, she was happy for the solitude, and for the chance to get back to some kind of normalcy after the last few days. As she headed into the back, to the staff break room, she found Sun sitting at the table, her presence taking Rachel by surprise. Rachel jumped back at the sight of her, putting her hand to her chest. "Jesus!" she shouted, making Sun laugh as she asked, "god damn woman, why are you even here this early?" "Couldn't deal with the parental pressure this morning," Sun said, "also I wanted to talk to you." "Oh, everything okay?" Rachel asked as she walked further into the room and started pouring herself a cup of coffee, then tearing open a complimentary pack of biscottis. She sat down at the table as Sun turned her chair towards Rachel. "...ever since I started working here, I've been so thankful to have a friend," Sun said, "like, I was so worried that, coming back to this town, it would make me feel so lonely, but you've been here and it's been really comforting. But I also feel uncomfortable around you." "...is it because I'm gay?" Rachel asked. "It is," Sun said, "but...not...I don't mean that the way it sounds. I don't mean it like I don't like queer people, I mean it like...it makes me uncomfortable because it's made me think about myself, and...fuck this is weird and hard." Rachel stopped chewing her cookie and swallowed. She was nervous as hell all of a sudden, and unsure not only of what was coming next but whether or not she wanted to hear it. "I think I like you," Sun finally said, "in a romantic kind of way and that makes me feel weird cause I've never liked another woman before and now I feel weird for admitting all this and now I feel weird for admitting that. I'm just one big messy weirdo, but I like you and I-" "I waited so long for you to come back," Rachel said, "I...I know that sounds, like, super stalkerish but I was so bummed when you didn't show up at the reunion and...and happy as I am to hear this I...I don't know that I can be involved with someone again." The words, even as they left her mouth, surprised Rachel, but they also made sense. After what she'd been through, after nearly being assaulted, she was terrified of intimacy and had a hard time trusting people again, especially in a romantic fashion, and yet...yet this was what she'd wanted for so many years. Over a decade, actually, and now she was gonna wuss out? Rachel suddenly felt sick to her stomach. "I need to go, I'm gonna throw up," she said, suddenly rising from her chair and rushing out the door, leaving behind a very bewildered Sun Rai. *** "Dad, do horses have feelings?" Mona asked as Wyatt drove her to school the next morning. He chuckled at her question and bit his lip. "I...have no idea, honestly," he said, "I would imagine though, I mean, everything has feelings, right?" "So horses get crushes and stuff?" Mona asked, "Like one horse can like another horse?" "Sure, why not? It's only natural after all to want to have babies and keep the species going," Wyatt said as he rolled up to a red light. He sighed and looked around at the outdoors. It was a gorgeous day, honestly, even if it was the start of November. He like this late fall air, and the colors of the leaves, especially early in the mornings and especially when he got to share these quieter moments with his daughter, even if they were talking about something absolutely ridiculous. Just then he noticed a car pulling up beside him, and he glanced over to notice it was Celia. She wasn't smiling. Instead, she furiously motioned for him to roll down his window, something he gladly did. "Mornin'," he said. "Follow me, it's an emergency," she said coldly, and then she sped off as soon as the light turned green. Wyatt shrugged, started the car back up and did as he was told. After a few minutes driving, they pulled into a nearby parking lot attached to a bar, and Wyatt unbuckled his seat belt. "Sweetheart, I'll be right back, okay?" he asked, and Mona nodded, continuing to brush her toy horses hair. Wyatt locked the car and walked around to the other side, finding Celia; he threw his arms up and asked, "what's the big deal now?" but she wouldn't answer, and instead she headed inside. Wyatt didn't question, he just followed. Once inside, she stopped at the bar, snapped her fingers and asked for the remote control to the TV, which she was quickly given. "Hey! Earth to Celia! What's the big damn deal?" Wyatt asked, but she snapped her fingers in his face and then pointed at the television. Wyatt's gaze slowly moved towards the television, which was on a breaking news report. A lovely little home in a quiet little suburb was on the television, surrounded by cop cars. Wyatt didn't recognize the place, but he had an awful feeling in the pit of his stomach. "-if you're just joining us," the announcer said as Celia turned the sound up, "then allow me to reiterate this breaking news. Local resident Oliver Brighton, safety inspector for the Morgana landscaping and construction company, is dead. It's speculated that Brighton, after a recent incident at their latest work site cost him his job, came home wherein he killed his wife and both daughters before taking his own life. As of this moment, there's not a lot of information about-" Celia muted the TV and looked at Wyatt, his jaw hanging. He slowly looked at her, and their eyes locked. "...what the fuck did we do?" she whispered. From the parking lot, a car horn beeped, and Wyatt could hear Mona shouting. "Daddy! I'm gonna be late for school!" Calvin had loved Halloween as a child.
As an adult, he'd still loved it, especially once his daughter was born. Together, they would go and pick out a set of costumes together, and decorate the house together, and all in all it was the time they both looked forward to most in the year. Now, however, Halloween was marked heavily by her absence. Sitting on his parents front porch swing, sipping a beer and watching all the kids running around in costumes from door to door...he couldn't help but feel an odd combination of loss and anger. Loss because he no longer was able to do this, and anger that others could. If some kids came up to the porch, he was polite and handed out candy, but otherwise he was more or less content to people watch. He heard the front door and screen door swing open, and he looked over to see his father, Barry, walk out onto the porch. He looked at Calvin, and the two waved at one another. Barry then walked over to the swing and sat down beside Calvin, reaching into the bowl and pulling out a few pieces of candy, unwrapping and popping them into his mouth. "You doing okay, buddy?" Barry asked. "Doing as okay as I can, I guess," Calvin. "I know it's hard," Barry said, "I'm sorry. I'd like to say it gets easier, but I can't because I've never gone through this, so it'd mean nothing coming from me. Still, I wish I could say something that would be comforting on some level." "Thanks dad," Calvin said, slightly smirking, "I appreciate your innate inclination towards trying to be comforting." Barry laughed, which made Calvin chuckle with him. A pair of young boys raced up the stairs and asked for candy, which Calvin happily gave them as Barry waved at the parents waiting on the lawn. After the boys raced back down, Calvin looked into the bowl and sighed. Barry patted his son on the shoulder and stood back up. "Your mom's making dinner if you want anything," he said, but Calvin just shrugged. "I think I'm just gonna stay out here a while," he said quietly, "It's nice seeing the kids." *** "Happy Halloween!" Rachel said as Scarlett opened the front door. Rachel was dressed as a mummy, having wrapped toilet paper all around herself, while Scarlett was dressed as a black cat. Scarlett laughed and hugged Rachel before inviting her in. "Boy, that's a lot of toilet paper," Scarlett said, shutting the door behind her, "You sure that's a good way to spend your hard earned cash?" "Are you kidding me? This isn't mine. This came from work. What do I look like I'm made of money?" Rachel asked, making her laugh again as she looked around and added, "Where's your kids?" "Wyatt took Mona trick or treating, while his mom took our son for the night," Scarlett said, "I stayed behind to drink and pass out candy." "Well lucky for you then that I brought both alcohol and candy," Rachel said, holding up dueling grocery bags, "let's get this party started." Rachel headed into the living room, Scarlett following behind her. As Rachel set the bags down on the coffee table, she turned and looked back at Scarlett, who was grabbing a small bottle opener from a nearby table and walking over with it. "I see you went with the classic hot girl costume," Rachel said. "Of course, it'd be a sin if I didn't," Scarlett said, "They'd revoke my hot bitches club card." Rachel reached inside the bag, pulled out a six pack of dark beer and handed one to Scarlett, then took one for herself. Scarlet popped the bottlecaps off both bottles and they toasted, then drank in unison. After a moment, Rachel sighed and flopped down onto the couch, Scarlett doing the same. "I'm surprised Wyatt took the kid," Rachel said, "Hopefully he's able to handle that." "He's so good with Mona, she honestly prefers him." "Doesn't that feel weird?" Rachel asked. "Not really, everyone was the favorite at some point when it came to their parents," Scarlett said, "I accepted a long time ago that she was daddy's little girl, and I'm happy that she has that. Lord knows I was never like that with my father. I mean, he loves me, I love him, but...it's not the same." "...I don't even talk to my parents," Rachel said, "kinda makes holidays lonely." "Well, now you have a family to spend the holidays with," Scarlett said, patting Rachel on the leg before hopping back off the couch, "Oh! I just remembered! I got jello shots!" *** "Dad, we are going trick or treating, right?" Mona, dressed as a ladybug, asked from the backseat. "We are, yes," Wyatt said from the drivers seat, glancing over at Celia in the passengers seat, who grimaced at him; he looked back at Mona and asked, "Can you put your noise cancelling headphones on? It's gonna get a bit loud for a moment while I open the windows." He knew she would listen, as she hated the sound of wind rushing past the car when the windows were open. Mona nodded, pulled her headphones off the seat beside her and slid them over her ears. The only downside was now Wyatt had to actually open the windows, if only momentarily. He rolled them down, then turned the radio on to cover his and Celia's voices. "I cannot believe you brought her," Celia said, "How are we going to do this if she's here?" "Trust me, she'd never tell anyone anything," Wyatt said, "Especially if we make it worth her while after the fact." "We're going to commit sabotage, for gods sake," Celia muttered, starting to sound frustrated, "How do you expect to-" "Celia, let me worry about my kid, okay?" Wyatt asked, which made her quit asking questions; sure Wyatt had had his doubts about taking Mona with them, but he knew that he could trust her, he could count on her, especially if - as he'd said - they made it worth her while afterwards. Heading towards the construction area Morgana was about to begin work on, Wyatt felt a mix of emotions inside him. Part of him was terrified at what he'd gotten involved in, or was about to be involved in, but another part of him felt proud, like he'd never done anything so righteous in his life and this was a long time coming. *** "When we were in high school, did you ever go to one of Kendra Killgore's Halloween parties?" Scarlett asked as she slumped more and more into the couch, shoving M&M's in her mouth. "Not really. I wasn't really a party person," Rachel said. "Neither was I, actually. Contrary to popular belief, cheerleaders aren't just party girl airheads. I only went to one and only because she asked me to help her throw it, and we had been best friends in middle school so I felt weirdly obligated," Scarlett said, sipping her beer, "anyway, we throw this party and Wyatt came with me and at some point during the night I got suddenly overwhelmed and I had to hide in a hall closet with him so I could get away from all the noise and stuff." "That's sweet that he hid with you," Rachel said, smiling. "That's Wyatt for you. Everyone expects him to be this judgemental douchebag but he really isn't that at all. He's such a nice guy, and an actual nice guy, not a guy who says they're nice simply to get into your pants. Anyway, we're in there and he's talking in this low voice, telling me it'll be okay, that I'll be okay, and that if I just focus on something other than the noise that it won't bother me as much...when our daughter got diagnosed recently with ASD, I knew he immediately would be good at dealing with it. He's just...really capable at taking care of those he cares about. I wish I was." "You don't think you're a good mom?" Rachel asked, and Scarlett shrugged. "I don't know," she said, "To be honest, I don't know that I ever really expected to be a mom, exactly. I mean, I wasn't against it or anything, I just...I'm pretty self absorbed, and I'll admit that. I love my children to death, but I do think I'm not a great mom." "You seem like a better mom than mine," Rachel said, "So that's a step in the right direction." Just then a knock came at the door, and the girls heard a symphony of shrill kids shout "trick or treat!" at the top of their lungs. They smiled at one another, grabbed the candy bowl and pounced off the couch, rushing to the front door where they were met with cheers. *** Wyatt pulled the car into the construction lot and waited for a moment after shutting the engine off. He took a deep sigh, then looked at Celia, who looked at him, raising an eyebrow. "You ready?" she asked. "Indeed," he said. "You got a mask? In case they got cameras?" "Indeed," he repeated, pulling a mask over his face, "I'm Batman." "You're such a dork," Celia chuckled. "What are we doing?" Mona asked, pulling her headphones off and looking at them. Wyatt and Celia looked back at her, then exchanged a glance, and then realized they couldn't hide it from her. Wyatt took a deep breath and reached back, putting his hand on his daughters knee. "I'm gonna do something that's going to make the world a better place, not just for everyone, but for you too, but you can never tell anyone we did this, do you understand? We're like...a secret spy team. You wanna make the world a better place, don't you?" he asked, and Mona nodded; he smiled and patted her knee, adding, "Atta girl." Wyatt opened his car door and got out, heading towards a nearby bulldozer. He looked around, then climbed up it and felt around. Surprisingly, he found the keys just sitting there, and so he sat down and pushed them into the ignition, starting the bulldozer up. As the sound roared out of it, Mona shouted at the sound, then pulled her headphones back on over her ears. Celia reached back and held her hand. "Shh, it's okay, it's alright, just cover it up," she whispered. "Jesus, how does anyone work these things?" Wyatt asked. Surprisingly, despite working in a similar field, he'd never actually drove any kind of major construction equipment. Suddenly the bulldozer shifted beneath him, thrusting him forward violently, making his face hit the windshield. He groaned, the fell out of the bulldozer and rolled down it onto the dirt below. "Daddy!" Mona shouted. "Jesus," Celia said, suddenly lunging from the car and rushing to where he'd fallen. As she knelt down beside him, she could hear him groaning, so she knew he was at least alive. Just then she looked up and noticed the bulldozer, still going on its own, had somehow turned and then crunched into a nearby mobile office. Celia and Wyatt just sat there, completely in shock. A moment later, after regaining herself, Celia lifted Wyatt back up and helped him back to the car. "Daddy? Are you okay?" Mona asked, and Wyatt nodded, pulling his mask off and running his hand through his hair. "I think so," he said, "I think a tooth is loose, but otherwise I'm fine. Luckily my nose didn't break." "Daddy?" Mona asked. "Yeah baby?" "Can we go trick or treating now?" she asked, making both Wyatt and Celia chuckle. Kids always knew how to make things better. *** "I want what you have," Rachel said, both women lying on the floor of the living room now, still eating candy out of the bowl, both about three beers into the six pack. "What? You wanna murder me and replace me like some kind of Stepford Wife?" Scarlett asked. "No," Rachel said, both of them laughing, "no I...I just...I want the kind of love you have in your life. I want that with this girl. I just can't bring myself to do it, which is stupid, cause love's all that really matters in the world, isn't it? Caring about one another?" "It should be if it isn't," Scarlett said, groaning as she sat up and adjusted her cat ears, saying, "I mean, we all act so combative but we shouldn't be. We're all the same species. We should all be helping one another, caring about one another, whether we're blood related or not. I think you should just go for it, tell this girl how you feel and-" "I can't," Rachel said quietly. "Why not?" Scarlett asked, "I mean, I know you said you're worried about ruining the friendship, but-" "It's more my parents than worrying about the friendship," Rachel replied, "I'm so scared of disappointing them." "You being happy would disappoint them?" "Actually I wouldn't put that past them," Rachel said, both women chuckling again before she added, "but no, it's more the being gay thing. They act liberally. They act like they're open minded, but behind closed doors they're somewhat closed minded, especially when it comes to people in their immediate lives. I'm just scared of disappointing them, which makes no sense considering they don't care about disappointing me." Scarlett looked over her shoulder at Rachel and shook her head. "I say go for it," she said, shrugging, "I mean, look at what you have now. Parents who don't love you and a girl who might but you aren't sure. At least if the outcome is that she does, then you'll have someone who loves you, even if your parents still don't. I'd say that outcome is worth the effort." "...maybe," Rachel said, chewing on her lip. "Oh my godddd I have to peeee," Scarlett said, getting up and hurrying off to the bathroom. Rachel got up and started to clean up the candy wrappers when she heard the front door open. She looked up and saw Mona running upstairs, her bag full of candy, and then Wyatt stumbled into the doorway to the living room. "You're here a lot now," he said. "What happened to your face?" Rachel asked. "It's not noticeable is it?" he asked, touching his face, "shit it hurts. Where's my wife?" "In the bathroom," Rachel said. "You leaving?" he asked. "I will if you want me to," she replied, "but I think my presence is more dictated by your wife than you." Wyatt smirked and sat down on the arm of the couch, reaching up into his mouth and groaning as he poked at a tooth. Rachel immediately came over and knelt down to eye level, telling him to put his head back. Wyatt listened and Rachel reached inside, then grabbed the tooth with her fingers and pried it out. Wyatt groaned, but quickly covered his mouth to hide the noise. Rachel stepped back, looking at the tooth, her brow furrowing in confusion. "Did you get in a bar fight?" she asked. "I did something stupid," Wyatt said, sounding, and looking, fairly pathetic, like he was worried Scarlett would ask questions. Just then Rachel heard Scarlett coming down the stairs, and she quickly reached into her pockets, pulled out a piece of hard candy, unwrapped it and shoved it into Wyatt's mouth. "Bite down then scream!" she whispered urgently, and he did as he was instructed. Just as Scarlett entered the room, Wyatt screamed, opening his mouth and letting the small jawbreaker roll from his mouth onto the floor. Rachel knelt down and acted as though she were picking his tooth up off the floor. "What the hell happened?" Scarlett asked. "I gave him a piece of candy and it took his tooth out!" Rachel said, "Wyatt, I am so sorry, are you okay?" Wyatt nodded, going along with the ruse even if completely uncertain why exactly Rachel was helping him. Rachel pushed the tooth into Scarlett's hand. She looked down at it, and then grimaced. "Ew," she said. "We've had kids together, you're not allowed to be disgusted by a singular tooth," Wyatt said, making her laugh. "I should get going," Rachel said, "I'd suggest going to a dentist quickly and getting that taken care of." Rachel gathered her things, hugged Scarlett goodbye and headed for the front door, Wyatt coming along with her. As they walked onto the porch, shutting the door behind them, Wyatt grabbed her by the shoulder and spun her around to face him. "What the hell was that about?" he asked. "Your wife is my friend, and a happy wife means a happy life, so you owe me," she said, "what happened anyway?" "...I did something I shouldn't have," he muttered. "Yeah, well...I know what that's like," Rachel said. *** Oliver Brighton had a normal morning the day after Halloween. He ate breakfast, he read the newspaper, he took his kids to school and then he headed to work. As he pulled up to the location, he found quite a scene. A bulldozer crunched into the mobile office, a group of men trying to clear the wreckage, and his supervisor, a woman named Melinda Barr, who walked briskly up to him, a really angry look on her face. "What the hell happened here?" Oliver asked, pushing his glasses up. "That was gonna be my question to you," Melinda said, "You're supposed to prevent this sort of thing. What the hell, Oliver?" "I...I don't...what happened?" "Someone left the keys in the bulldozer and drove it right into the office, it's pretty cut and dry," Melinda said, "but you're our safety supervisor, you're supposed to prevent these sorts of things. This is going to stall our operations by months, as now we're gonna have to have an outside safety supervisor come in and make sure this work site is in fact safe to work at." "Well, you don't need someone else to come in and do that, I'll write off on it, you know that. Anything to get-" "No, we need an outsider if we don't wanna wind up in court," Melinda said, "If we had you do it, because you work for the company, it'd look like we're trying to get away with something. By having an outside safety supervisor come in, at least we can say we're trying to do things by the book." "Okay, fair enough. What should I do?" Oliver asked, following he as she started to walk back to the group of men. "Find another job," she said, which stopped him in his tracks. "Wh...what?" he asked. "I'm sorry, Oliver, but this is too big to ignore," Melinda said, "I have to deal with this. You're fired. Not my orders." And with that she turned away and headed off to deal with the men. Oliver stood there, staring at the sight, aware his world was crumbling around him. Oliver turned and slowly walked back to his car. He got in, shut the door behind him and just stared at the sight in front of him. He felt rage building inside him. Everything he'd built up for himself, in a legitimate career, had suddenly come to an abrupt end. Oliver reached to the glovebox and opened it, looking at the handgun in it, then shut the glovebox and started the car. He then started the car, and started to drive away. |
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A group of former high school classmates reunite at their 10 year reunion, and discover they each want something different, many with someone else there. What ensues is a labyrinthian relationship amongst them involving crime, murder, romance and, in one particular case, terrorism. Archives
May 2024
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