Fiona was in the bathroom when I got back to our room. I saw the lights on in there and heard the light splashing sounds of small movements in the tub. She'd left the door ajar. I pressed it open lightly and found her lying in a steaming, soapy, pine and lavender scented bath.

"So?" she asked. "How'd it go? What was the very urgent thing that Iris needed to show you?"

I let my back fall heavily against the wall. And probably stared at Fiona for a full minute or longer while trying to think of how to begin telling her about what had just happened. She waited, patient and perceptive. She knew something unpleasant was coming.

Finally I dove in, beginning with the entire scene at Iris's door. The highly visible and clearly fresh bloody scratches on her neck, and the terrible lie about where they had come from.

I told her about my call to the doctor. Then about the doctor's report, confirming Iris's confession. And about my confrontation with Iris, and the warning I had left her with.

Fiona's lovely, perfect face displayed absolutely no reaction as I worked my way through the short but eventful saga. She only kept her icy eyes on mine the whole time, her expression remaining blank and neutral. When I was finished, she closed her eyes, muttered, "un-f*****g-believable," and then slipped her head under the water.

She came back up about three seconds later. I was seated on the floor next to the tub by then.

She wiped her face, blinked water off her eyelashes and combed her wet hair back with her fingers.

"I know," I said. Then, rather pointlessly, I offered, "I'm sorry about this."

Fiona coughed out a dry, cheerless chuckle. "Don't be," she said dismissively. "Alexander. That woman is a lunatic."

I was replaceing Fiona's reaction somewhat confusing. If she was angry - and she had reason to be - it seemed she had taken this anger and shoved it back behind that brick wall where she kept all her other emotions. I did not like thinking about that. About the wall going back up.

"Will you help me out of here?" she asked, preparing to exit the bath.

"Of course." I fetched a fluffy white towel from the rack on the wall, gave Fiona my hand for support as she stepped carefully out of the tub, and wrapped her up in the towel, bringing my arms and body along with it and sweeping her into a hug. She did not push me away. But she did not receive my embrace very warmly, either.

She did not push me away. But she did not receive my embrace very warmly, either.

Then she dried her hair, removed her eye makeup, and disappeared into her dressing room, quiet as a mouse.

I wanted to ask her if she would like to talk about it some more. I wanted to ask if she was hungry, if she wanted me to order some food or make her something.

But when she emerged from her dressing room, clad in comfortable loungewear, she made a beeline for her desk.

I followed her there. "Fiona. Will you please talk with me?"

"About what?" She raised her eyebrows. "Don't tell me there's more to that awful story."

"No, no. I just... are you upset?"

"No." She shrugged. "I am fine. I do think you ought to reconsider housing a crazy person down the hall from us, though. But ultimately it is your decision." She turned her computer on and it chimed to life noisily, punctuating the quiet tension between us. I found myself on my knees beside Fiona, like I was praying to her. "Fi. You know that I can't just kick her out. You know I need her here if I am going to get justice for my mother."

My fiancée nodded patiently. There was still zero trace of emotion on her face. "I know," she said smoothly. "I understand that is important to you." "Are you and I okay?"

"Yes, we are okay." She did me the mercy of placing one of her cool hands to my cheek. The light touch was reassuring enough to get me off my knees.

"I do have a lot of work to do, though, Alexander. Tonight's events have been very distracting already. Do you mind if I try to focus on work for a couple hours now? I don't want to be up all night trying to get this stuff done." "Of course. I'll leave you to it."

It was still early, and I hardly knew what to do with myself if Fiona did not want my company. She wasn't kicking me out of our room. But she kind of was.

I headed out toward the barracks, texting Kayden on the way. He met me partway across the training field.

"What's going on, boss? Something wrong?"

"Long story," I answered. "I'll tell you all about it on the drive."

"No problem. Where we going?"

"Well. I don't want to be gone too long, but I need to give Fiona some space to work, maybe for an hour or so. And I could use a drink."

"Ah. That good, huh?" Kayden grimaced.

I sighed, gazing back in the direction of our bedroom. Fiona would not like it if I came home drunk.

"Keep me to two beers, max," I instructed my Beta.

"Roger." He jerked his head toward the parking lot. "Shall we?"

Kayden opened his hand in perfect timing to catch my keys as I tossed them over.

Fiona

I was able to complete some work on my computer before bed. But not much. My mind was not feeling very sharp.

I tried to read, but couldn't focus. Tried to review my notes for the next morning's meeting, but could not focus.

I wound up completing a variety of "busy work" tasks instead, just to feel productive. I cleared out my inbox and organized some files on my desktop. Deleted a bunch of things I didn't need anymore.

And I messaged Nina. I told her all about everything that had just happened with Iris.

Upon hearing the bizarre and outrageous tale, my best friend was absolutely enraged. She was borderline homicidal.

I, on the other hand, only felt drained after repeating the details.

Nina wrote: Alexander is going to regret giving me that security clearance. Because I am gonna come down there and kick that bitch's sorry behind.

I replied: As much as I would really love to watch you do that, Nina - I beg you, please do not.

Nina: Ok. But only because I will do anything you tell me to, Fi. You know I got your back girl.

A series of devil face, bloody dagger, and red heart emojis followed, making me laugh aloud. I was able to put the work away after that.

I was crawling into bed just as Alexander returned, smelling like alcohol. He adjourned to the shower immediately, though the scent of whiskey lingered behind.

I was on my side and already nearing exhausted sleep when I felt the bed dip to accept his weight. He slid under the covers and slipped right into place behind me, wrapping his warm body all around mine, pressing us as close together as possible. He did not say a word. Just held me till I fell asleep.

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