Two days had gone by without seeing the agents, and for that, Jemma was grateful. Though they had told her they knew she was innocent, the local police didn't seem to share the same sentiments. The further she stayed away from the station, the better.

She sighed and sat on her bed. For once, being at home in her 'sanctuary' didn't provide a feeling of comfort as it normally did. Her parents had hardly said a word to her since she'd arrived; kids at school voided her as if she was infected with the plague – well, more than they usually did, that is. This actually hurt, if she was to be honest with herself.

Expelling a deep breath, she grabbed her sketchbook and soft lead pencils, and began drawing. Art had always been an excellent escape for her. She allowed her mind to clear and forgot about the issues through which she was currently going.

"Jemma? Visitor."

"Mama – "

"Don't."

Jemma choked back tears when her mother walked back down the stairs. She stood on the landing, peering around the corner to see who was in the entry hall. Her breath caught in her throat. What was he doing here?

"Come on up."

!:!:!:!

DR. REID found her sitting cross-legged on the bed. Her pale fingers held a dull-pointed pencil; she kept eyes averted from his. She was hiding something.

"You didn't tell us you threatened to kill Tamyra."

"That was back in the ninth grade. I didn't think it was important."

"Of course it is, Jemma. This gives Officer Dunway and any lawyer, the opportunity and reason enough to convict you of murder, to blame all this on you, all for the sake of closing the case. You had motive."

"Oh."

"Why didn't you think to tell us? Or were you even thinking at all?"

"Because it was over something stupid. I didn't mean it, and she knew it. I had no idea that it would come back to bite me in the ass."

"Well, it did."

"I'm sorry."

He sighed and sat down on the edge of the mattress. "Just…tell me what happened."

Tamyra grinned at her friends as Jemma stormed up. The latter of the two shoved her way to stand, in all her five-foot-four glory, in front of the elder.

"Listen here, you evil little bitch, nobody in this school is your servant, inferior, punching bag, or torture experiment. So take yourself elsewhere, or I'll make you wish you'd heeded my advice."

"Oh, and what are you gonna do? Kill me?"

Tamyra's laughter weakened when the blonde glared into her hazel eyes and spat, "You're damn lucky if I don't."

Reid gazed at the girl in front of him. "What happened next?"

"A couple days later, we hashed it over. It was like the 'discussion' never even went down."

"Any witnesses?"

"Um, yea. If I remember correctly, it was Lenny. Leonard Price."

"Thank you."

"Dr. Reid, you believe me…don't you?"

"I have this whole time. And I'm not about to start disbelieving you now."

::::

"Mama, can we please talk?"

"About what?"

"About why you and Daddy act like I don't exist any more."

"Jemma, you embarrassed us! Not only were you caught at a party, underage, which is bad enough in and of itself, but then you were hauled off to the police station on charges of murder. Do you have any idea what people are saying about our family?"

"It can't be any worse than what people are saying about me to my face, when they're not acting as if I'm a disease-ridden contagion walking. Mama, they call me a murderer, among other things. And not one person believes me when I say I'm innocent. Hell, Mama, not even my own parents believe me. So far, the only ones who have are the FBI. And I find that pathetic." She roe to her feet and walked to the kitchen door; stopping, she murmured without turning to look at her mother, "But no, I can't possibly imagine what you and Daddy are going through."

::::

Her walls were crumbling with each barb others threw her way. It was an unusual feeling to experience. She could normally brush off the insults and harsh names. Somehow, however, this was different. She was fighting a personal battle with Hell – with no army behind her. Only she was in her corner.

Or so she thought.

"Hello?...No, she's busy…no…l-…listen…excuse me, do you mind shutting the Hell up for a few seconds, thank you…No, she's not out committing more murders!...Yes, because I'm staring right at her, moron…Oh, good grief. I don't have time for this, so unless you have something intelligent to say that ain't about my little girl, I suggest you stop calling…Of course I know who this is! Do I look and sound stupid to you? Have a great day, Ms. Edith!"

Jemma grinned as her mother slammed the phone into its cradle. "So you believe me now, Mama?"

"Yes. Now go get washed up for dinner."

!:!:!:!

Penelope Garcia's quick eyes and even faster fingers skimmed every bit of information she could find based on the parameters she'd been given. Come on, you skeeve, show yourself. This statement-slash-demand had become her mantra for the duration of the case. Suddenly, something clicked into place, and there, amongst jumbled words and dozens of photographs, appeared four of the most likely people to have been the unsub. She hurriedly dialed out and waited for someone to answer.

"Listen up, my profiling minions. The Goddess is ninety-nine point ninety-nine-nine percent sure she just pulled through for you – like usual."