***138:

The cafeteria was not very big, a single walkway beginning with trays and utensils, a salad bar on one side, hot foods on the other. Booths outlined the perimeter, a sliding glass door led out to a patio, where several young women were already eating, talking quietly. Tracy had noticed that once girls were "inside" ABCSC, they became much quieter than they had been upon entry. It was the peace here, the calm, and safety. On a normal day of the week this place might be much more crowded at this hour, the dinner hour, but on the weekends, it cleared out as staff and guests retired to their homes. Another benefit about the program, was that it bred instant acceptance, there was a lot of confidence in the women who used the program, they had all made that decision, and there was no turning back, consequently, each girl's esteem went dramatically up, and her outlook became extremely tolerant. There were no cliques, and to Tracy's knowledge, very little gossip. They were all much too transient. You weren't there long enough to form jealousies. And the facility offered privacy, and private one on one tutoring. The girls were never all together, or only rarely, so they didn't need to feel jealous or know anybody else's business. They were tied together by the little souls they nourished inside themselves, and that was more than enough.

So, to their credit, and Kylie's relief, no one stared as they entered. Even with Tracy, who would normally have caused a stir in another circle, the girls were used to seeing her, and didn't point or stare. She was simply their benefactress, a fellow mother, worker, and a person struggling to make it in a hostile world.

Tracy took her salad to a table in the center of the room, bordered on one side by a tall rectangular planter. She was gratified that Kylie chose a more substantial main dish of Roast beef and mashed potatoes.

The cell phone in her pocket began to vibrate and Tracy reached to grab it, and look at the face to determine who it was, and if she could ignore it. It wasn't ignorable, she flipped it open and held it to her ear. "Yes?" she answered, clearly wishing to pay attention to this young rape victim, and not business.

"Tracy, Andria Collier. I need to stop by your office. I have papers for you to sign regarding your statement." Her lawyer's voice, competent, authoritative, had been with her for eight or nine years, since the beginning of Pepper's anyway. Bob had hired her right off. She was used to clipped and forceful demands. She was not used to disobeying.

"Om, yeah. I just have to get someone settled."

"How long will it take? I'm downstairs as we speak." So sure that I would be available, or would make myself available.

"I can meet you there in just a few minutes." She said with a sigh, and caught Kylie's eyes as she flipped the phone closed.

"I know you're very busy." Kylie said ruefully, "You don't have to personally take care of me. You're like a movie star or something aren't you? You're a celebrity?"

Tracy took a mental deep breath and then reached across the table to touch Kylie's bruised hands. "I've called a medical team to examine you. Even if it's been awhile since the rape, we should be able to file pictures for future reference if needed. It's the law, Kylie. I also called a specialist in who knows especially how to help girls in your particular situation."

Kylie's head bowed in obvious distress, but determination tinged her tone. "I'm ready to get help." She said softly. "Will I be staying here?"

"Yes." Tracy reassured her, and signaled for the technician, who had been waiting patiently at the door, to come over. She introduced her carefully, looking for signs of dismay, or distrust, but there were none, only open and honest eyes, determined.

Tracy excused herself, glanced at her watch in annoyance, she was cutting into kid time, and her breasts were letting her know this was so. The twins weren't nursing as much, but she just felt like she couldn't completely wean them. She felt a lump in her throat as she approached Andria standing in her waiting area outside her office. She shook it off unreasonably.

She embraced Andria fondly, opened her office door, noting that her assistant had already left for the day. There were several notes on her desk readily apparent in bright pink as they entered. Andria made the appropriate comments, having never been to Tracy's office at ABC, only Rocks. They laughed about the similarities, the rock and wood fireplaces, the sofa arrangements, the framed pictures, and the new addition of Steven's portrait above the fireplace. Andria commented about it, and Tracy felt that rush of tears once again, so she sat at her desk and studiously avoided looking at it, even as Andria stood in front of it, admiring it.

"All right." Andria came away from the fireplace, swiping circumspectly at her very made-up eyes, dabbing with one unprepared finger. She slapped a folder down on Tracy's desk. "You have been subpoenaed. I have taken your dialogue from your original statement, with few changes. Because of the nature of the crime, Mr. Filliger has openly admitted to the crime, and I have enough evidence gathered to present this to the court and win, all you have to do is testify about what happened. You don't know anything about the fire itself, only the outcome, and the losses and damages are listed here." She flipped open her folder and pointed. Tracy gave a half-hearted glance at it and then returned her gaze to Andria's eyes.

"And Paris?"

Andria cleared her throat. "Yes, you will explain what happened, and how the meeting with the two women came about. I have it written out for you, based on your own account that you gave to me."

"Yes, I know I gave it to you, Andy." She said, a little bit amused.

"Just making sure you didn't think I was telling you what to say."

"You always tell me what to say." Tracy answered with a laugh. "When is the trial?"

"This Friday. The day after tomorrow."

Tracy took a deep breath. "Where?"

"LA." Came the reply. "I also have the legal work for your continued piloting program, and your passport renewal." Andria changed the subject and Tracy lifted the second folder presented as Andria sat back. "This kind of stuff an agent would have done, my dear. I'm not your agent. You need an agent."

"Michael..."

"Is not your agent. I've taken the liberty of explaining this in a letter to you, with a list of possible agents that I have worked with previously."

"Are you tired of taking care of me, Andria?" Tracy teased.

The older woman smiled. "No, not exactly, Trace, but I am finding myself too busy with all your paperwork to get the important stuff taken care of. You have more legal issues than any two people."

"I do?"

"ABC, Rocks, several slander cases pending..."

"I don't know anything about slander cases."

"And you pay me so that you don't need to know, my dear." Andria stood up "I'll see you Friday." She exited bluntly, as was her way and Tracy allowed her eyebrows to raise and her head to wobble in unfeigned mimicry. As if on cue, her cell phone buzzed again.

She didn't bother to look at the face to determine identity. "Yes?"

"Tracy? This is Doctor Williams, I'm downstairs with Kylie. You'll need to come down. You've admitted her without an interview or paperwork, you'll have to personally sign for her to get a room like this." The voice was faintly disapproving, and Tracy stood and began walking back the way she had come.

"No, she can be admitted without an interview even if I'm not the one to sign. Doctor Williams, she's a rape victim, read the handbook." She allowed a slight tone of amusement to garnish her voice as she said this, because she knew it sounded blunt. "I'm on my way."

Brushing a strand of long hair out of her face she pushed the button to call the elevator, sighed, thinking about dinner and flipped her phone open again to tell her mom she would be late. Her policy was family first on her work days, but sometimes work interfered. She'd have to make it up to them.

A wave of tiredness assailed her as she leaned against the elevator door and it descended, causing her stomach to feel a momentary drop and then resettle itself. She closed her eyes. Immediately, a face appeared in her thoughts. A face she hadn't thought too much about in the last little while. It became clearer, more distinct than any dream face she'd ever seen and she felt a wash of warmth cover her from the inside out.

Tracy, you're running away from your pain. Why don't you run to me?

Her eyes snapped open. Had she actually heard a voice? His voice? She shut her eyes as the elevator stopped and her hand reached to push the button to keep the door closed a few seconds longer.

I know the church is true, she thought, and I live it....

You go through the motions, there is so much more I want to give you.

"How?" she said out loud, wanting in that moment, more than anything to actually give her pain away, to have it dissipate, to have it wash away someplace safe, taking the sting, but not the memories.

Death where is thy sting? O grave, where is thy victory?

Her eyes squeezed shut. Oh God, she whispered. I am so torn. This isn't how it is supposed to work out. I loved Raine, I wanted to be with him forever, but now he's gone, and I can only remember him.... But we weren't sealed, and now.... I think about someone else.

I have a plan, daughter, trust me.

I do trust you.

Then follow me.

*****