Jake laid in bed with his face tucked in the crook of his elbow. Beside him, Lucy gnawed at her bottom lip, debating how she should tell her boyfriend about the journal. Despite her resolution to tell him about the secret diary, Lucy hadn't yet done so.

"Jake, are you awake?" Lucy whispered.

"Hmmm..." he mumbled, turning over.

"I need to talk to you about something," Lucy continued.

"Can we talk about it later, babe? I'm so tired."

Lucy sighed. "Yeah. I guess we can."

Jake opened one eye and stared at her. "You gave up easily. Something's wrong. What is it?"

"Gave up easily? What are you talking about?" Lucy tugged at the edge of the blanket.

"Normally, if I say no you try to change my mind. You just totally caved right now. So, what's wrong?" Jake sat up with a groan.

Her eyes darted away and she cleared her throat, still plucking at the blanket's fabric. "I just wanted to know if you had to go bowling tonight."

He gave her a disbelieving look. "That's what you wanted to ask me?"

She nodded.

"I call BS. What's going on, Luce?"

She gave him a weak smile. "Jake, do you think I make bad decisions?"

He moved so that his back sat against the headboard. "Bad decisions? Where is this coming from so early in the morning?"

"I'm just curious what you think. Do you think I make bad decisions?"

Jake frowned before rubbing his face with the fleshy part of his palm. "I wouldn't say you make bad decisions but sometimes you make poor choices."

He scratched his chin as his half-open eyes gazed at her.

"Doesn't that mean I do?" Lucy groaned. "You're trying to confuse me with semantics."

"Well, how do you want me to answer, Lucy?"

"With the truth!"

"Okay, fine. I'll tell you what I really think," Jake said in a warning tone.

Lucy nodded and cracked her knuckles. "I'm ready."

Jake shook his head in laughter. "I think you make rash decisions. I think you sometimes rush into things without really thinking about the consequences. And before you start feeling bad-- don't. Because everyone does that. I repeat-- everyone does that. Myself included, Lucy. I don't always think things through. It's part of the reason I love you. You aren't this anal person who's always fussy about unimportant crap."

When she didn't respond, he asked, "Are you mad?"

"No, but now I have another question."

"Lord, help me." Jake slid under the covers.

"I knew it was a bad decision when I got into that accident because I was drinking. I knew that. Why did you stay with me?"

She could hear Jake sighing. "Lucy we've been through this. I love you. Why would I leave you?"

"But it was hard to stay with me, right? I'm a recovering alcoholic. I was moody. I lied to you. You felt betrayed, didn't you?"

These were all topics they had gone over before but Jake always seemed to glaze over them with Lucy. She wanted some reassurance he would never leave her.

"What do you want me to say? Just tell me and I'll say it," Jake said from beneath the covers. Lucy lifted the sheet to see his face. His eyes were closed.

"I want to hear the truth," Lucy admitted.

He gave a heavy sigh but answered her. "It was hard and at times it hurt. I'd be lying if I said it was easy. You know that. For months, I knew something was wrong but you kept distancing yourself from me. You lied about where you were going. You lied about who you were with."

"I'm sorry."

"I'm not telling you this to make you feel guilty. You wanted to know so I'm answering. Honestly, I thought you were cheating on me and I was angry. Part of me wanted to hurt you and the other part wanted to beg you to stay with me. Can you understand that?"

Lucy didn't say a word.

"When I got the call telling me you had been in an accident, I went crazy. Then, when the truth came out about you being an alcoholic...I felt relieved. Does that make me an asshole? I'm sorry, Lucy. I know that sounds horrible but it's the truth. It finally made sense. All the lies."

"I'm sorry," she whispered.

Jake shook his head. "No, I'm the bad person. I was happy to know you weren't lying to me because of another man. You were lying to me because of an addiction. I knew things were rough for you at the time. I was working offshore and you were all alone. I get it."

"So, what would you do if I made another stupid mistake?"

She could feel him tense up beside her. "What do you mean?"

"If I were to screw up again, what would you do?"

"It depends, Lucy."

"Depends on what?"

"What you did. Did you do something?" Jake's voice deepened.

Lucy stayed quiet, her hands fisted in her lap. She wanted him to tell her nothing she could do would push him away. She supposed that kind of sappy crap was only spoken in movies.

"Lucy?" Jake's voice cut into her thoughts. He sat up and looked as though he was bracing himself for bad news.

Lucy waited a beat before giving him a crooked smile. "I haven't done anything. Sometimes, I just wonder how strong our relationship is. I don't think I can take it if you changed your mind about me. I'm yours and your mine. Got it? No take backs."

He stared at her for a few moments, a conflicted expression on his face. Finally, he nodded. "No take backs."

A few hours later, Lucy pushed her grocery cart through the supermarket aisles, occasionally placing items in her basket. Jake had wandered off to the meat section.

"Lucy?" A familiar voice called out to her.

She turned to see Harry, the man from the rummage sale. Her lips turned up as she greeted him. "Harry, how are you doing?"

"Oh, I'm fine. I'm glad to see you're feeling better," Harry said with a nod.

"Feeling better?" Lucy asked, not understanding.

"Donna said you were sick since you missed the rummage sale the other day," Harry reminded her before grinning.

Lucy's cheeks turned a soft shade of pink. "Oh, I feel much better now. I shouldn't have been out and about in the rain."

"Well, I'm glad to see you're doing better. Donna's always having some kind of fundraiser or rummage sale so I wouldn't feel too bad about missing it. I'm sure she'll have another one soon enough."

Lucy nodded. "Speaking of which, you've helped Donna run a lot of those sales, right?"

Harry nodded.

"Well, what happens if you buy something and it has stuff in it?"

"Stuff?" Harry repeated.

Lucy looked around before lowering her voice. "Yeah, like the desk I bought. I think the original owner might have left something inside the desk."

"Is it valuable?" Harry asked.

Lucy mulled that over. "No, not really."

Harry shrugged. "Then keep it."

"Well, what if it's personal?"

"Personal? What did you find exactly?"

Lucy decided to just spit it out. "I found a diary. It's pretty personal."

"You read it?" Harry snickered.

"Well, I had to find out what it was," Lucy said weakly, causing Harry to laugh.

"There's a rule when it comes to garage sales. Finders keepers. You ever heard of it?"

Lucy chuckled. "So, I should just keep it?"

"Of course. You can read it and laugh. Throw it away. Do what you want with it."

Lucy nodded. "But the journal entries are pretty personal. Don't you think the original owner would want it back?"

"It's possible but that person should've taken better care of it in the first place."

"Yeah but still," Lucy sighed.

"You know this reminds me of a time I bought a guitar at a garage sale when I was in my twenties. The owner left an engraved pen in the guitar case. I wasn't sure why it was there so I tossed it out. A couple of days later the old owner shows up on my doorstep."

"Really?"

Harry nodded. "He was hollering about a missing pen he thought he left in the guitar case. Well, I had already thrown it away. Apparently, it was given to him by his deceased father."

"Oh, no! What did you do?" Lucy asked.

Harry shrugged. "What could I do? I lied and said I never saw it before in my life."

Lucy gasped and stopped herself from laughing.

"My point is-- if the owner of that diary really felt it was important, he would come looking for it, Lucy." Harry looked at his watch. "I have to go. It was nice seeing you. Maybe I'll see you at Donna's next rummage sale."

Lucy nodded and watched Harry push his shopping cart down the aisle. His words echoed in her mind.

"He would come looking for it," she repeated.

"No," she whispered. "It would be impossible."

The thought of O seeking her out to find his diary sent a shiver of foreboding down her spine.

Still on a mission to discover O's identity, Holden and Vicki were hard at work at the Hilltop police station.

"So, I've been combing these files and you know what I'm thinking?" Vicki asked.

"That we deserve a vacation?" Holden yawned and popped some spearmint gum into his mouth to stay awake. He had been up the night prior trying to create a history of contacts for O's victims.

"That too, but no. I'm thinking he's killed before."

"Why would you think that?" Holden asked.

"Lots of reasons. This is a small town. There aren't that many unsolved murders are there?"

Holden shook his head. "Surprisingly, there aren't. But the town over is pretty big."

"Let's just try it. Can you pull up any cold cases that happened in the past ten years?"

"Ten years? Why not twenty?" Holden asked facetiously.

"Just do it," Vicky ordered as she threw a pencil at him.

"Hey, watch it. You can poke an eye out throwing that." He laughed and typed in the information Vicki wanted.

He clicked on the last case and began reading it aloud to his partner. "Brandon Sheffield. Worked at a gas station. He was killed while taking out the trash at his place of employment."

"There were no witnesses?" Vicki asked.

"Nope. There are a few statements from the kid's family members and--"

Holden made a gasping sound. 'Well, I'll be damned."

"What is it?" Vicki asked.

"You're a friggin' genuis, you know that?"

"What did you find?" Vicki asked again.

Holden smiled. "A connection."

He looked at the list of family members related to Brandon Sheffield. The same person's name who had a connection to Deidra Hamilton stood in front of him.

Dillon Sheffield.