The snow has picked up in intensity and softly pillows the ground with white. He is sitting in the office, sipping a cup of tea and flipping idly through the scrapbook she has left on the desk. Pictures, newspaper and magazine clippings, memories filled the volume. Many pictures of the older woman, always with the same bitterness in her eyes. A monster lurks deep in that soul, he can see it from the eyes. Quite the opposite of the little girl, who is fearful but is light in being. He stares, lifting the mug to his lips and sipping the tea as he studies the sketch in front of him. He had no idea she could draw, or draw so well. Surprises weren't to his liking, but as with the piano the other night, her's were mostly pleasant. The pencil sketch stared back at him, bitterness burning into his mind. This woman, this monster, had hurt the little one. The woman could not be forgiven for that, not in a thousand years. Although, that would be resolved in a very short manner. Protect the ones you love by diminishing their enemies. The squeal of tires in the front drive pulls his attention from the book. He closes it, coming from the office to look out the windows, seeing her hunched against the snow, fedora drawn low over her face. He waits in the hallway as she comes through the door. Something is terribly wrong. She has been hurt deeply.

*****

She slammed the car door and trudged through the drifting snow. The fat flakes stung as they were whipped against her cheek. Emily reached up, brushing hair out of the cuts, wincing slightly and pulling her hand back to find fresh blood on it. She reached out with her right hand, turning the knob and pushing the door open. Pushing the door closed she leaves a partial handprint on the door, marked with her blood. Edward stands back in the hallway, shock running through him at the sight of the blood on the door. he remains calm, watching Emily remove the fedora and her jacket, hanging them on the empty hooks.

"Are you okay, Emily?" he asked stepping forward. The metallic, brassy smell of fresh blood hangs heavy in the air. He can only see her face in profile, the left side of her face unblemished. Her eye flicks towards him, her mouth opening to whisper.

"No." she turned to face him, the right side of her face bloodied and injured. "She…" Emily was cut off as Edward grabbed her, leaning close to her face and reaching to brush the hair out of the wounds. She stood silently as he examined the furrows her mother had left.

"Who did this to you?" he hissed in her ear, unable to keep a firm grip on his anger.

"She did. She grabbed me through her cell." she looked up and met Edward's eyes, clearly seeing herself in them.

"Oh, Emily. We need to get you fixed up. Do you have a first aid kit?"

She nodded. "Better, my father's old practice in the carriage house. I still keep it stocked, medical license and all, you know." she pulled herself from his grip and felt a strange reluctance at parting. "Come on." she led him out the front door and across the lawn. She unlocked the first door when they reached the carriage house, reaching for a light switch inside. They stood in a modestly appointed waiting room, one that had not seen patients in years. She pushed through another door and led him into the medical office. Edward took over from there, scanning the room and instructing Emily to sit in the examination table. Within minutes, he had assembled the necessary objects on a rolling tray and was gently washing the blood from Emily's cheek. She sat quietly, wincing slightly at the sting of the cold antiseptic, but not protesting his ministrations. Carefully, Edward placed two butterflies across the deepest cut under her eye. The other cuts weren't bad, they just produced a lot of blood. She blinked as she felt his breath against her neck, shocked at the emotions she felt course through her. Edward noticed as she tensed.

"Did I hurt you?" genuine concern in his voice.

"No, Edward. I'm fine." she traced the bandages in her cheek. "Thank you."

A smile broke across Edward's grim features. "You're very welcome, Emily. Now, tell me what happened." he watched as Emily hopped down from the table, and began to speak softly.

"My mother, she called me back to her cell as I was leaving. I didn't realize I was standing so close to the bars. She reached out and grabbed me, shaking me and digging her left hand into my face." she shook her head, angry with herself for letting it happen. "The orderlies saw it on the camera and came down there. One of them pulled me from her grasp while the other went into the cell to subdue her."

Anger flared in Edward's eyes again. "Didn't they notice that you were bleeding? That you'd been hurt, Emily?" he demanded, watching her start to walk out of the room.

She turned back and met him, her eyes as cold as a glacier. "Yes. I didn't realize that I was bleeding. I just wanted to escape from the screams." she pushed the swinging door open and walked through the waiting room. Edward followed, being dropped into darkness as she shut off the lights. Snow swirled in through the door as she opened it. She took off across the snow covered lawn, heading for the farmhouse. Edward finally caught her once she was inside again.

"What screams, Emily?" he asked gripping her arm. He was being drawn in again, Moth to the flame.

"Her screams. I lock them away, far away so they can't reach me. " she whispered, not trying to break his hold on her or meet his eyes. She felt Edward lean in close to her, once more whispering in her ear.

"Do you wan them to stop, Emily?"

"Yes." the word fell from her lips, a raindrop in a puddle.

"I can make them stop, Emily." he hissed, his voice low and intense. Emily shivered, closing her eyes. "Do you want me to make them to stop?"

Something tingled in Emily's brain. She snapped her eyes open and pulled away from Edward. She was staring at him, fear was tantalizingly close. He had a hungry look about him, his eyes almost glowing with it.

"Pardon me." he finally said, stepping past Emily and heading up the stairs. Emily was helpless to move, eyes locked on him as he ascended. The doorbell startled her, and she whirled to face the door. A single figure stood on the porch, swirled in the snow. She cracked the door, trying to calm herself.

"Package for Dr. Christophersen." the delivery man intoned. Holding a clipboard out to Emily.

"Yes, thank you." she signed on the designated line and received the thick manila envelope. The return address was marked for Baltimore.

"Have a nice day, ma'am." the delivery man turned away, and she nodded absently, closing the door. She retreated to her office, carefully laying the package on her desk. She retrieved the letter opener form the kitchen and closed the office door behind her. She still sat in the office hours later, poring over the file, never hearing Edward slip out the front door.

*****