Hey guys,

Participation on my last chapter was super low. Please don't forget to vote! I'm hoping this double chapter update will help.

- Shar

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The light in the manor looked different when she woke.

The first thing Mila noticed was the throbbing pain in the back of her head.

The second, that she'd clearly slept in, something she never did, and that she was still dressed in her gown.

The third was the quiet. Never had she woken to such a quiet morning in the manor. Normally, she could hear the bustling of several different people moving around, but this morning it was dead.

Had it been real? She wondered, as the events of the prior evening came back.

There was definitely a possibility that she'd finally lost it. That her mind was playing tricks. However, the memory of Olga and Raul was too vivid to dismiss as fiction.

It was supposed to be her, not them. In the moments before they were killed she surely thought it would be — but Victor had begged to spare her life.

Almost immediately, she noticed the end table in front of her bed no longer held the crystal vase. Instead, her keys, passport, and wallet sat atop an envelope. She clutched them in her hand before she opened it.

In Victor's handwriting, it read:

I'm sorry I didn't get to say goodbye, but this is how is has to be. I love you Mila, live well.

It was short and to-the-point. She sat on the bed, rereading it, trying to fully comprehend what it meant.

Was she actually free? If so, she couldn't believe it.

On another piece of paper in the envelope were instructions to access an account.

None of it felt real.

She had to see for herself, so she cautiously made her way to Victor's quarters. The room was spotless, with no sign anyone lived there. His closet was completely empty and smelled of cleaning materials.

"Hello!" she yelled. But she was met with no reply, as her voice echoed throughout the house.

No one was home.

She made her way downstairs, to the room where it all went down, and was surprised at how pristine everything looked. All furniture was back in its original place. It didn't look as if anyone had been in the house at all.

The spot where they'd knelt showed no signs of the violence that had taken place, but she would always remember the horror and surprise on Raul's face when he realized he'd been shot. It was something she would never forget.

Uncontrollable stomach convulsions began, and she ran to the nearest bathroom and lost everything she'd eaten the evening before.

When she was finally able to stop, she made her way into the kitchen for some seltzer water to soothe her. She sipped the bubbly drink while turning on the local news from Olga's countertop television. It all felt very taboo and bizarre.

"The community is reeling after the deaths of five, including the pilot, in a helicopter crash in Seattle last night," said a bright-eyed news anchor. "Authorities haven't released the names yet, but we've been told a prominent family within the King County community is involved."

Of course it made the news. The police were probably investigating.

So much turmoil had taken place in such a short period of time, she'd almost forgotten about the helicopter. The Laurents who'd tried hard to save their son, along with Cordelia, were all casualties in a game they didn't know they were playing. It was quite devastating when she thought about it.

Yet somehow here she was, not totally unscathed, but alive.  She didn't know what to make of it or how to feel.

The doorbell rang and she jumped.

Who could it be? Someone coming to finish the job? The cops?

She knew she didn't have to answer and could easily stay hidden in the house, but she was curious, and at a loss for what to do next. Instead, she decided to peep through the front window to see who it was.

It was only one person, and she recognized him as one of the Feds from HSG. She really didn't want to deal with that situation right now, but he saw her peeping, and she felt obliged to answer.

"Mila Black?" he said.

"Yes."

She was suddenly aware of how crazy she must look. Still in last night's evening gown, with smudged makeup all over her face.

He didn't seem to pay it any attention.

"I'm detective Touissant." He looked at her almost expectantly. "You don't recognize me, do you?"

"You're one of the feds that's been hanging around my work," she corrected herself. "I mean, ex-workplace, aren't you?"

"Yes," he replied. "I'm also a friend, from before."

"Before?" she asked.

He nodded. "I know about Victor. I'm here to help."

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Two chapters left!

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