Tralala…. Hello, dear readers. I seem to have forgotten to post all the normal disclaimers in the first chapter so here they are. The dear Dr. Lecter and the darling Clarice are not mine, I am only borrowing them with great thanks to Thomas Harris. Original characters are property of me. Thank you for your kind reviews so far. I hope you will continue enjoying the tale. Ta-ta.

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Snow, white and crystalline, dusted the ground and the trees. She steps out the front door, snugging her coat tight around her. The brim of the brawn fedora was pulled low to keep the snow from her face. She pulls a gloved hand from the warmth of her pocket and fumbled with the key fob, unlocking the Sable's doors. She grasps the door handle and yanks the door open, away of the ice that has frozen on the seal. The car starts with a satisfying growl as she adjusts the heater and defroster to full blast. Carefully, she steps back out of the driver's seat and pulls an ice scraper from the rear seat. She sets about scraping the accumulated snow and ice off the windows. The scrape of the plastic blade through the ice is the only sound above the engine. She can hear herself breathing and her heart beating with the unusual lack of noise around her. In the distance of her mind she heard the screams begin and she pushes them back into the dark room, slamming the door shut. Snow settles lightly on the brim of her hat, jolted and falling now as she leans across the hood. She glances back to the warmth of the farm house, seeing the light radiating from the windows. She sees a shadow cross one of the upstairs windows. She shakes her head and pushes the blade across the glass one final time before retreating to the relative warmth of the car's interior. She puts the Sable in gear and lets it roll down the driveway's incline. The passing trees reflect off the clean glass, reflecting the cold that blankets them. She is a beautiful woman.

*****

The Sable handled the slick roads easily as she drove up the highway. She looked through the monotony of the wiper blades at the road ahead of her. Three exits down the road and Emily turned off, taking a county road through a densely wooded area. The snow was heavier here, and she slowed down, flipping on the parking lights so she was at least a little more visible to others. Not that she expected many people out here in the first place. She finally reached her destination and turned into a small parking lot. A squat, intimidating brick building sat before her, like a giant huddled in the snow. She cut the engine and stared at the twin glass doors that marked the entrance. It had been a long time, and she had expected it to be longer than this. Sighing, she stepped from the Sable and locked the door behind her. Tugging the fedora down she made her way across the parking lot.

She stamped the snow from her shoes as she reached the glass doors. Taking a deep breath, she opened one and stepped inside. The smell of bleach and disinfectants assaulted her nose. Below that there was the smell of sweat and the overwhelming fear. She forced her feet to move and she approached the reception desk. Within a few moments, a burly orderly was escorting her down a deserted corridor. A lone folding chair sat in front of one of the cells, waiting for an occupant. She thanked the orderly short of the chair and waved him away. She had to do this alone.

Emily seated herself in the chair as the old woman occupying the cell looked up at her. A grim smile twisted the once beautiful face.

"Come to harass me again, child?" gnarled hands that were once as fine as any twisted around the bars. "Hmmm, child? Answer me!"

Emily sat unmoving in her chair, contempt dripped from the woman's face. Finally, Emily spoke. "Hello, Mother." She met the bitter stare with one of glacial calm. "How have you been?"

*****

Emily endured her mother for two hours, catching all of it on the tape recorder she held in her pocket. The anger and bitterness towards Emily was still there, stronger than ever because it had been festering and growing for so long. Emily finally rose from her chair, and turned to leave without final comment to her mother. She was stopped dead in her tracks when she heard the withered voice whisper.

"What was that, Mother?" she asked, slipping a hand back into the pocket to activate the recorder again. She stood back form the cell and looked in on her mother.

"I said that you were a stupid little whore." she spoke the words with a shred of dignity before lapsing into a screaming tirade. "You conniving little bitch! Look what you've done to me." Emily didn't realize that she was so close to the bars as the withered hand snaked out and grabbed her. She was too stunned at her mother's strength to pull away. She stared into the yellowed eyes, seeing the monster that dwelled within. "Look at your mother! Look!" Emily couldn’t tear her eyes away as she felt nails digging into her cheek as her mother shook her. Her forehead banged against the bars and she felt the nails digging deeper into the soft skin on her cheek. The screams began in her head, unleashed by the sudden gout of fear. Emily was roughly torn away from her mother's grasp and she felt herself hit the wall. She panted, watching an orderly throw open the cell door and storm in to subdue the crazed woman. The orderly who had escorted her down there stood beside her.

"Are you okay Doctor?" he asked, staring alternately between the screaming woman in the cell and Emily. "Damn, I never thought she was strong enough to do something like that."

"I'm fine." Emily replied, collecting her hat and purse from where they had fallen. She turned to thank the orderly when she saw the concern in his eyes. "What?"

"You're bleeding." He pointed to the right side of her face. Four deep scratches lined her cheek with a fifth coming down below her eye. Emily touched her cheek, pulling her hand back to see the red wet blood covering her fingers.

"Oh." she just stared at the blood, very aware of the way it felt tracking down onto her jacket lapel. She looked back into the cell, her mother grinned evilly at her, blood visible on her left hand. Emily turned away and ran down the hallway, ignoring the protests of the orderly. Marian Christophersen continues to scream profanity at her, still restrained in her cell. Emily didn’t stop running until she reached her car, throwing herself into the drivers seat. Flipping down the visor she opened the lighted vanity mirror. She saw her face covered in blood seeping from the five deep furrows that her mother had left. She touched them again, seeing blood on her fingertips but not really feeling any pain. She leaned across the seat and pulled a first aid kit from the glove compartment. She dabbed the cuts with antiseptic, and washed the blood off the best she could. She heard voices coming across the parking lot and she looked up, seeing the orderly and a staff doctor running towards her car. Emily started the car and jammed it into gear, tires squealing as she roared out of the parking lot. She flew down the road unconscious of her speed and recklessness. She didn't begin to calm until she had reached the highway. She looked up into the vanity mirror again as she sped down the snowy road, seeing the reflection of her father stare back at her. Her father's face after her mother had killed him that night, with the identical cuts on his face. She pushed the image away, but it did nothing for the screams.

*****