I've been so obscenely busy and behind in school that this is the only REAL free time I've had in weeks! Sorry for the delay! Also while rereading the last chapter I realized that I put a lot of random letters in place of David's eye color because I meant to look it up and fill it in. Sometimes I just have to laugh at my own methods.

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"Pavi, go home." Jillian sighed. She could feel his presence in the room without seeing him and for the past month and a half he had almost never left. After Mag left for her tour, he'd seen it as a chance to be in the house every day and torment her. He would harass her while she read and cleaned and she had only narrowly avoided stabbing him whenever he hovered over her cooking. He was driving her completely insane.

"But then who would look after you? It's not like you have anyone else." She caught the cruel jab behind his words.

"Haven't you ever heard that absence makes the heart grow fonder?"

"The only thing you'd be fonder of is having me gone and I would hate to disappoint you later. Besides, I'm enjoying having you completely to myself." She folded her clothes aggressively and stuffed them into her drawers.

"Does your father know you're here? I thought he wanted you to leave me alone." Pavi walked up behind her and set his hands on her shoulders. He always spoke to her like a stubborn child, which was probably more true than he cared to acknowledge.

"Bella, he doesn't care what I do. He's just trying to keep things from getting to la tua cara madre. If I could lock you up in my apartment without her noticing you were gone, he would let me."

"Your family is just screwed up." His fingers tightened on her shoulders.

"Be careful. That sharp wit of yours is best kept where I can't hear it. You are at the disadvantage here." She groaned and twisted out of his grip.

"I've got all the leverage. I could tell my mother everything, she freaks out and you'll be in deep shit with Rotti. You can deny me Zydrate and what happens? I go into withdrawal and my mother will eventually figure out something about what's been going on and you're still in deep shit with Rotti. Really you can't win." He looked at her with annoyance.

"But you'd never tell. If you were planning on it, she would already know. You're too afraid. Face it, you've got nothing." She pulled a sweater from the basket of clothes and put it on.

"Well I've got better things to do than sit here and argue with you. Leave, don't leave, just don't make a mess while I'm gone." He gave her a suspicious glare and she snatched a black backpack off of her bed.

"Where are you going?"

"Out." She sat and tied her sneakers quickly.

"Where? You're just going to leave without telling me?"

"That's sort of the point." He tried to grab her, but she brushed past him and by the time he made it to the living room she was outside and halfway down the driveway. He watched her disappear slowly before calling a car home and wondered where she could have gone.

Jillian always went to the same places every time she left the house. She knew Pavi couldn't care very much or he would have been able to find her easily. First she made her way through the winding streets to the cemetery. She found Cynthia's headstone and sat next to it. It was hard to function without her, but talking helped. Jillian would tell the granite all of her insecurities and problems and she could almost hear Cynthia's voice responding and telling her what to do. It always pleaded for her to tell her mother and she ignored the advice.

"I'm so tired. He's been at the house almost every day and I can't have any time to myself. Mom isn't even home so he just takes it as an invitation to come and bother me." She sighed deeply. "What if it never ends? What happens in I can't ever get out and he just keeps coming after me forever? He told me I was too scared to stop him and he's right. I wish I wasn't so stupid and terrified." She put her fingers against the stone and traced the letters of Cynthia's name slowly. The letters were carved in a swirling sort of cursive and it had become a comforting habit to follow their path once through before she left.

There wasn't much time she could stand to spend there without breaking down, so she left quickly and made her way to her favorite spot on the island. She passed through downtown, right next to the many GeneCo office buildings surrounding the main tower, and then through suburban streets until she reached the rundown boardwalk. Living on an island her entire life had given Jillian a reasonable love of the beach. She'd visited this beach on the East coast of Sanatorium Island almost constantly since she was young, mostly with Cynthia. Unlike the cemetery, she had no bad memories here. The wind off the ocean was calming and she liked to sit in the sand and listen to the waves.

She pulled a world atlas out of her backpack and sat in the damp sand. Each page had cities circled in different continents and she'd taped a list of dates and tour locations into the front cover. Mag was in London today. She looked at the island on the map and where she was on her own island. Jillian stared up to figure out which way the sun was going. She wanted to know exactly which direction her mother was in and she performed this ritual once or twice a week. It gave her a sense of accomplishment every time she sat and did this task. A simple sense of control and awareness.

There were little time conversions scribbled in the book too and according to one labeled London, her mother would be finished with her performance soon. She turned and sat facing the direction of London and waited. A few people passed her as she sat, but they took no notice of the strange girl staring into the distance.

After half an hour, her wrist communicator beeped. "Incoming message fro-" She hit the button quickly.

"Mom?" She knew who it was already, nobody else bothered to call her. A soft laugh crackled through the strained connection.

"Yes, of course. How are things at home?"

"Quiet. Boring. I've tried to pick up the piano again," Which wasn't a lie. She had sat by the piano for a few minutes every day in the hopes that maybe it would pass the time and start to make sense.

"That's good. Are you getting very far?"

"Not really."

"Well at least you're trying."

"Yeah… When are you coming home?" A question she knew the answer to.

"The date is written on the calendar, and the fridge, and wherever else you've copied it." Jillian sighed and nodded even though she knew she couldn't be seen. "Are you doing okay on your own?" She wasn't really. The loneliness was painful and Pavi was the only company she had except for the people who occasionally came by on Mr. Largo's command to ensure her safety.

"As okay as I can I guess."

"Good. I've got to go now. There's a strict schedule to make sure I get enough sleep. And I hope you're sleeping too. I love you sweetheart, goodnight."

"Goodnight." She pushed another button and stared off at the horizon. She imagined her mother being pushed out of a car and into the back door of a high-class hotel somewhere in the country where she was born. Jillian had often wondered why she'd ever ended up on this island in the first place. It was ugly and corrupt. But she had been blind back then. Maybe she couldn't tell how horrible things were until it was too late. And by the time that happened, her fate was sealed with GeneCo and there was no other choice.

When she thought of it like that, it was easier to understand and forgive her. It was easier to walk home through the litter-lined streets where there was always a chance that you might find a mutilated body at any turn. It was almost even easier to walk back to her big empty housee and lie alone in the numbing silence knowing it was all a sad accident.

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Again, SO SORRY. This has been in the back of my mind but I'm so behind in school that it's ridiculous and I never get a chance to really sleep so I take whatever chances I get.