"Doc and Ashley" (from "Behind Bars")

Day 6: After Dark

Ashley -- previously a doll who was never seen without a fashionable wardrobe and her hair and makeup perfect -- was now visibly, physically, and emotionally a wreck.

Her hair hadn't been combed through in a week, and she had smudges of dirt and even dried blood on her face and neck. The long coat she wore to keep herself warm in the thin, sexy dress she'd been incidentally wearing at the beginning of her recent flight into the wilds of Clark County was ripped and torn and also covered in dust, mud, and blood.

She was exhausted, hungry, dehydrated, and on the verge of collapse when she looked through the crowd of mostly former inmates to see her Uncle Michael coming her way. In an instant, she burst out in tears and sobs, holding her arms out for him as she struggled to remain on her feet, nearing him with great effort.

Michael caught her as she fell into his arms. He thought she had fainted but her arms wrapped around his neck and he felt her draw herself into him.

Ashley had never been fat - one of her few vices has been, in Michael's opinion, an excessive interest in how she looked, fed, no doubt, by her Instagram feed - but now there was even less of her. She seemed just skin and bone.

Her face snuggled into his neck as he hugged her close. Her breath was warm against his skin.

"Ash," he whispered, rocking her back and forth. "Ash. It's you. It's really you."

Ashley sobbed uncontrollably into her stepfather's neck. She'd been holding back her emotions for weeks and now -- with Michael holding her -- she saw no need to fight it any longer. Her arms clung around his neck with all the strength she had remaining; her legs had given way, and Doc was literally holding her in the air, her toes an inch or so off the ground.

Behind her, Lanny studied the pair for a moment before turning and departing with Madge to get her and the others food, water, and a place to rest. Lanny and Ashley had been the first two of the group to meet. At various times there had been as many as 12 of them, with a total of 18 in the group at one time or another.

Despite the ever changing numbers and the makeup of them -- gender, age, nationalities, languages, and more -- the group had had one thing in common that had never changed: their destination. Ashley had told Lanny of the prison and of her stepfather the first day they'd met, and despite the trials and tribulations through which they'd trudged, her only goal was to reach Clark County Correctional.

"Doc?" Charlie said softly from behind the girl. Ashley shifted in Michael's arms enough to indicate she was done with the hug and turned to look at the woman with the pistol on one hip and a radio and some sort of electronic remote control-looking device on the other. "Hi, Ashley. I'm Charlie, like I said. It's so good to finally meet you."

Charlie offered out her hand, and the teen hesitantly took it. The Warden chuckled softly, saying, "I feel like I already know you. Your stepfather hasn't stopped talking--"

"Father," Ashley suddenly cut in. She looked up into Michael's face for his reaction: despite the closeness they achieved prior to her mother's disappearance, Ashley had never before called him anything other than stepfather or my mother's husband. But the emotions of the moment were refreshing the happy moments from before her life fell apart. She looked to Charlie again, repeating, "My father."

"Your father," Charlie agreed with a smile. "He talks about you constantly ... to me, to Betty -- our nurse -- or to anyone who will listen."

Charlie was overdoing it a little bit, but it was true that anyone who knew Doc knew his stepdaughter -- daughter? -- was named Ashley. The Warden looked to Michael, telling him, "Why don't you take her to your cabin, Doc. I'll have someone deliver food and water and some fresh clothes from A-Wing."

This morning before they'd left for the Casino, Charlie had offered Doc Cabin #13. The prison was abuzz with rumors of him and Nurse Betty, and it had only seemed appropriate for the New Society's Doctor to have his own place.

Father. Doc was taken aback. She'd always called him Michael. Father was a big change.

He nodded at Charlie's suggestion that he take Ashley to his cabin.

"Thanks, Charlie," he replied. "Better make sure Ashley's well. Once she's settled, I'll come back and look over the others."

He'd been perfectly happy in his former cell, now that he was the sole occupant, perhaps his need to do penance, serve his time, but he hadn't refused Charlie's offer when she made it.

"Let's go, kid," he said, swivelling in the right direction. Ashley seemed so unsure of her footing that he just swept her up into his arms and carried her. Years ago, Michael might have struggled to bear the girl's weight but Ashley was a lot lighter now and he was a lot stronger, thanks to prison calisthenics and the frugal diet.

Ashley didn't say anything throughout the walk. She just lay in his arms, head resting in the crook of his elbow, her arms around his neck as if glued in place. He kept glancing down every now and then, just to make sure she was still conscious. Her eyes never left his face. He couldn't help but notice the hollows in her cheeks and the feel of her ribs against the muscle of his arms. She'd lost weight. A lot of weight.

There was still a layer of dust over everything in Cabin 13 but he'd at least managed to change the bed linen earlier. He laid Ashley down on the mattress then stood back up.

"Alright, kid," he said in that tone she knew well from when he was playing the stern father. "Anything broken? Bleeding anywhere? Wounds? Injuries? Tell Doctor Mike so he can fix you up."

'Doctor Mike' was what she used to call him when he was acting the authority figure. She smiled at that.

Ashley held onto Michael as if she was afraid he might again be lost from her life. She was surprised at where they ended up, a little cabin off to one side of the prison buildings. It hadn't occurred to her that much of the Staff had lived onsite during their 4 days on-3 days off shifts.

"Alright, kid," he began, asking her about injuries and ailments. "Tell Doctor Mike so he can fix you up."

Ashley cracked a bit of a smile, but it was short lived. "I'm just hungry, is all. And I need a bath ... or shower ... or a horse trough I can jump into, I don't care."

The food was going to be a while, so -- after giving Michael another bear hug and telling him she was so glad to be here -- she made her way to the bathroom that was just off the little kitchen's wall. She shed the filthy, calf-length coat she'd been wearing for days -- it had been her blanket most nights -- and revealed the outfit beneath.

Although she would never tell Michael this, Ashley had become a bit of a wild child during her absence from his parenting. She'd fallen in with a bit of a wild crowd of Immunes who -- certain that the world was ending -- had been spending their days gathering food, water, booze, and drugs, then spending the nights partying until all they'd scavenged was gone. Ashley had once compared it to the Britney Spears music video "Till The World Ends", only without the crashing asteroids, basement dance hall, and perfect lip synching by the former Mouseketeer.

There had been sex, though, lots of sex. The once sweet little Ash had woken more mornings that she could count with a pounding head and a lack of clothing. Sometimes she recognized the other naked bodies laying with her; other times she didn't. Familiarity didn't matter, of course: the world was ending.

Ashely had, in fact, been partying the night that her trek into the wilderness had begun, which was the reason for the sexy, curves- and undies-revealing outfit that was entirely inappropriate and unsuitable for that trek. The penthouse condo the group had been squatting and partying in had suddenly been invaded by a group of armed men who were there to steal anything they could carry.

Ashley and a few others had escaped out a back entrance to the emergency stairway. After descending 18 floors, she'd simply run through the night until she'd collapsed in the bushes of an urban greenspace, by then all alone. The next day, she would meet Lanny, and they'd been together ever since.

She couldn't have known that the group interrupting her party life that night and putting her on track to find Michael were called The New American Brotherhood. Ashley also couldn't know that she would come face face with them again in the near future when they made an appearance at the gates of Clark County Correctional.

She looked out the bathroom door, finding Michael still checking on her. She gave him a reassuring smile, and as she closed the door before undressing to shower, she promised him, "I'm alright, Michael."

She wanted to call him Father or Dad, but -- despite what she'd said to Charlie -- it still felt a little bit weird. She stripped, got into the shower, and stood under the cascading water until the cabin's little hot water tank had gone cold.

Once she'd closed the bathroom door, Michael looked the cabin over. It was basic and, while he considered it luxurious in comparison to the cell he'd occupied until recently, it would need a bit of work to make it habitable for the two of them, Because Ashley would have to stay here. And he would have to find a place for her in the New Society.

He was reassured by Charlie's words earlier that there would be a place for her. But, he thought, Ashley's going to have to grow up fast. And pull her weight.

As much as he cared for his step-daughter, he was aware that she'd had a pretty privileged existence to that point. Though life with Mindy, Ashley's mother and Michael's wife, had been a sort of living hell, Ashley usually got what she wanted, provided she gave Mindy what Mindy wanted: the appearance of unquestioning love and admiration. Michael hadn't been so good at putting up a front, leading to frequent fall-outs.

Michael could not forget, much as he wished to, the way the relationship between him and Ashley had, just before Mindy disappeared, evolved to a disturbing level, beyond what might be considered right and proper between man and step-daughter.

She'd become too prone to hugging him whenever he came home. Mindy was never there - she always stayed late at work. There would be kisses - on the cheek, sure - but, turning away, Ashley would brush her lips against his. Ashley would send him pictures of herself to his phone, often her in the changing room of some designer boutique. It started off with summer dresses then changed to swimwear.

"At the country club!!! New bikini!!! What do you think? Does my bum look big in this?!?! Marsha says it looks great but I'm not so sure. xx Ash."

"Looks great," he'd replied. And deleted the photo.

That didn't seem to dissuade her. It then progressed to lingerie.

"Need a professional medical opinion," her next text had started. "I think I need some liposuction. Help me, Doctor Mike. xx Ash"

He just ignored these but, again, it didn't stop her.

Which was why, when the police came calling after Mindy's disappearance, and looked at Ashley's phone, the line of questioning had taken an unwelcome turn.

"So...," the detective had begun. "You fucking your step-daughter, Mike? That why you made your wife disappear?" The second cop in the room had flipped open the folder and slid it over across the table. Enlargements of all the photos Ashley had sent Michael. "Gotta admit, she's seriously hot. Not tempted? Not even a little bit?"

Michael had looked over at his attorney. The attorney had spoken for him. "Doctor MacFarlane has no comment to make on these. I'd suggest you move on. And address him as Doctor, detective. He's not your drinking buddy. And he's innocent unless proven guilty. From what I've seen, you're nowhere near making a case."

When the trial started, Ashley would knock on his bedroom door late at night.

"Can't sleep," she'd say in that small voice she'd perfected. "Nightmares. Can I sleep here?" It had only happened twice. Michael would cradle her until she fell asleep then turn over so she nestled against his back. Nothing ever happened but the second time, when he awoke, her hand had drifted down his belly and into his boxer shorts. He had removed it without waking her. And swore it would never happen again.

And then came the verdict. Followed by life in the CCC. All of that four years ago.

Michael's reveries were interrupted by a knock at the door followed by a familiar voice calling out.

Betty blushed a fiery red the instant she saw Michael on the other side of the opened doorway. The night before had been the most incredible night of her life, winning out over the day of her marriage and the day of her divorce both, as well as any previous sexual encounter in which she'd ever participated.

"I have some clothes for your stepdaughter," she told her boss and lover. "I don't know her exact size or style, so Charlie told me just to snatch up a bunch of stuff and--"

Betty's words ceased and her eyes opened as -- beyond Michael -- she saw the door of the bathroom crack, then open wider as Ashley peeked outward, obviously looking for her stepfather. The young woman obviously hadn't meant to expose herself -- or had she? -- but from this angle, Betty got for an instant what had become the norm for television drama nudity: no nipple, no pussy, no cock (in the case of male actors, duh), but as much of the remaining suggestive curves as possible.

Ashley, seeing company, panicked again and shut the bathroom door. At the front door, an embarrassed -- and jealous -- Betty handed over the clothes quickly, hesitated to consider what she wanted to say next, then asked meekly, "Are you still coming over? Madge and Molly are out, so ... we'll have the place to ourselves."

That wasn't exactly true, though. In fact, it wasn't true at all. Betty knew that if Michael said yes, she would have to seek out her roommates and ask them to find somewhere else to play for a couple of hours. But Betty was desperate to be with Michael again, and even through she knew that Ashley was her lover's stepdaughter, it still concerned Betty that the girl was so undeniably beautiful.

Michael was thrilled to see Betty. The turbulence of the last hour had unsettled him and the sight of the nurse brought him back to the present and the night before.

"Thanks, Betty," Michael said, taking the clothes from her. "I'm sure they'll be fine." He saw the look on her face and glanced back over his shoulder just in time to catch a glimpse of Ashley before she closed the bathroom door.

"That's Ashley," he said, unnecessarily, turning back to Betty. "I'm not sure how - or why - she ended up here but there you go. She's here now."

Betty's reply was soft. "Are you still coming over? Madge and Molly are out, so ... we'll have the place to ourselves."

There was nothing Michael would like better. He couldn't wait to explore more of Betty's firm, young body, to see what else she was capable of, what other heights they might reach together, but he was aware Ashley might need a little looking after.

"I'd love to," he replied. He stepped up to her, lifted her chin towards him and found her mouth with his own. He kissed her deeply and passionately, just long enough to convince her. He broke contact, looking into her eyes. "But I think I'd better make sure Ashley is settled in first. Who know what kind of stuff she's been through? Maybe another day? When Madge and Molly are out? Or maybe when Ashley's at work? She'll have to pull her own weight now she's here. We'll have time to ourselves again soon.That okay?"

He took a half-step back so he could look at her better as he waited for her answer.

"We'll have time to ourselves again soon," Doc promised. "That okay?"

Betty hesitated before responding, "Yes. Of course. Ashley ... she needs you."

Betty needed Michael, too. Last night had been the most incredible night in her life, and despite still hurting down yonder from having his monster cock inside her after nearly 5 years of voluntary abstinence from intercourse, all the little Nurse Betty could think about was sitting atop Michael's body and learning to take his length and girth without the pain.

The kiss would have to hold Betty over for now, though. She glanced toward the bathroom door, finding it closed still, made her reluctant farewell, and departed.

Back inside, Ashley opened the bathroom door just enough to reach both hands out for the offered clothing, giving Michael another and closer look at her curves, network TV-MA appropriate style.

She thanked Michael, then -- having been secretly peeking through the only barely cracked door to see that kiss -- asked, "Is that your girlfriend?"

"Colleague. Yes." Michael replied. "Girlfriend. Maybe." He pushed the bathroom door closed, more to prevent his eyes wandering than anything else. "Anyway, save the interrogation for later. Get changed then come out. Betty's brought some food over for you."

Michael hunted around and managed to find two plates and some cutlery and glasses. He dished out the food and set the table as best he could. The food was nothing special - just the remnants of the beef stew the kitchen had produced for the evening and a half-loaf of home-baked bread - but it was freshly made that day and hot. To drink, there was tap water. A far cry from what Ashley was used to. Last he remembered, she was convinced she was gluten-intolerant AND had decided to be vegan. He grinned to himself.

Ain't gonna be any of that bollocks around here. Little Ashley would have to grow up fast. He paused, slightly ashamed. Who knew what she'd had to contend with out in the world with the Red Flu? And that ragtag bunch she arrived with? What was their story? They looked like they were running from something.

He heard the bathroom door open.

"Alright," he called out over his shoulder. "Dinner's ready. Let's eat. And talk. You can ask your questions. And I'll ask mine." He turned around to face her. "Oh, and welcome home, kid."

"Colleague. Yes." Michael replied. "Girlfriend. Maybe."

Ashley didn't know how to feel about that. Secretly, she'd had a big crush on her stepfather back before and even after he went to prison. She would never have told him that, of course, and she thought she'd contained that secret during that time such that he wouldn't imagine that over the years, she'd often masturbated to the fantasy of his mouth being on her then-untouched-by-man pussy.

Still, Ashley was happy for Michael if, in fact, he'd found a woman to make him happy in the horrific world in which they lived, not to mention in the horrific prison in which he lived.

She dug through the clothes, finding that they were all two or three sizes too large. Betty had wanted to ensure that nothing was too small for the girl, but Ashley found them all too ... loose for her, considering how she'd come to enjoy showing her body off to others over the last few years.

It wasn't appropriate for her to dress that way now. Still, she found a shirt with a wide, loose neck that would fall off one shoulder, showing off the upper curvature of a young, firm tit, while down below she donned a pair of cotton gym shorts, then rolled the loose fitting waist band over once, twice, thrice until her ass and crotch would be well displayed any time the shirt lifted high enough.

Her feet were bare and her wet hair pulled back in a pony tail as she stepped out to here Michael say, "Oh, and welcome home, kid."

She stood in place for a moment to let her stepfather see her cleaned up and looking good, then moved forward to hug him once again. "I'm so glad to be home, even if home is a prison, so long as you are here."

Doc hugged her back, enjoying the feel of her young body for a moment longer than strictly necessary. He stepped back, both hands on her shoulders, and looked her over critically. She still looked great, he had to admit.

"I know you're a big girl, Ash," he said, "and I know I'm not your father but you're not going out like that."

He tugged the shorts down so that the waistband unrolled and the fabric covered her crotch and ass. He gave her that look, the one that said 'Don't try that on with me, kid. I can see right through it.'

He crossed his arms. "In case you hadn't noticed, this is a prison. There aren't exactly zero rich young socialites wandering about. These are hardened criminals. Violent men. Rapists. Don't make yourself conspicuous. Got it? OK, let's eat."

She clearly hadn't eaten for days. She dug into the food with relish, taking handfuls of bread to mop up the remains of the stew. He picked at his plate, watching her all the while, waiting for her to finish before he spoke again.

"So. Who's asking questions first? You? Or me?"

"I know you're a big girl, Ash," Michael said, lecturing her about how she was dressed.

She understood his warnings, as well as why he was tugging her clothing to hide her curves and flesh, so she said nothing and only feigned sadness with her bottom lip stuck out.

"So. Who's asking questions first? You? Or me?"

A bit of panic filled Ashley's face at her stepfather's question, as her mind immediately filled with memories of her recent drug use, partying, and forays into the wild, sometimes weird world of sex. She certainly wasn't going to tell Michael any of that, but she did feel that if she didn't speak up first, he might think she was hiding something.

"After mom disappeared and you were sent here," she began after considering her words, "I lived with Carmen and Rosita. You remember them, from down the hall in the condo building. They, um, they both died from Red Flu. I didn't see it, thank God. I stayed there for a while, then managed to get to the Oceanside House."

At the height of her mother and Michael's financial glory, they'd owned a beach house that looked out onto the Atlantic. Ashley had always liked it, and many times during the past, her mother had told Ashley that it would never leave their possession.

"I thought maybe, just maybe, I might find mom living there," she said with a solemn tone, now unable to look into her stepfather's eyes. Deep down, she wanted to believe that Michael hadn't had anything to do with her mother's disappearance, but it was still hard to meet his gaze when she talked about such things. "She wasn't there, of course. Red Flu probably got her if--"

She stopped suddenly, realizing she'd very nearly said If you didn't kill her.

"Anyway, there was no one there, but there was food and the well still worked from the power off the windmill," she went on, "so I stayed there for a while."

Ashley finally looked up into Michael's eyes and held his gaze for a moment as she contemplated what else she'd found at the house beyond food, water, and relative safety. Aside from the Authorities initial beliefs that Michael had killed and disposed of her mother, there had been a second story based upon a deep dive into her mother's finances, that she'd begun cashing out her assets in an effort to disappear.

Ashley had never believed this because she couldn't imagine that her mother would leave her behind without some sort of word, of which there had been none. Perhaps her mother feared she would accidentally let it slip that she was alive before she had a chance to come back and get her?

But there was another reason for not revealing her state of still being alive to her daughter: the accusations against Michael. Ashley would never have allowed her stepfather to take the fall for killing her mother, and her mother likely knew this.

All of this had been pure speculation, of course, until an amazing discovery at the Oceanside House: a soft felt bag filled with diamonds that -- according to paperwork Ashley had later dug up -- were worth a cool $1.6 million dollars.

Suddenly, the idea that her mother had faked her death with the purpose of fleeing to some distant location without Michael -- and possibly Ashley, too -- was less fantasy and more likely fact.

"After that, I ran into Lanny," Ashley went on, deciding not to talk about the diamonds hidden in the lining of the big, ugly coat that Maria had suggested be burned but which Ashley had desperately begged to keep for now. "She rescued me, helped keep me alive. We met the others along the way, and she and they helped me get here."

She hesitated, shrugged her shoulders, and finished, "That's about it. What about you?"

And then, with a smirk, she asked, "How long you been banging the nurse?"

"None of your business, kid," Michael replied, his tone cool. "Unless you want to tell me what you've been getting up to and with whom? No? Didn't think so."

He scooped the last forkful of stew into his mouth then took a drink before speaking again.

"What about me? Good question. It's been what, a year, two, since I last heard from you. In that time, I've been a model prisoner. Get up, breakfast, shower, work, lunch, work, dinner, lights out. Rinse and repeat. That's about it. Until Charlie took over. And things got a whole lot better."

He sat back in his chair and crossed his arms. "It's a lot better now. I've got a job of sorts, a chance to be useful, a chance to make up for the shit I've done." He spread his arms indicating the cabin. "Shit, I've got my own space, responsibility, trust and the beginnings of self-respect. So. That's about me."

Michael didn't mention being the fuck toy of his psychopathic cell-mate, now dead and buried as fertiliser for the crops being grown out in the fields. Michael also didn't mention how worried he had been when he had been unable to get in touch with Ashley. He placed both elbows on the table. He looked Ashley in the eye.

"Do you actually think I had something to do with your mother's disappearance? Because it's a new world now, Ash. A new world and a new beginning. If you really want to know, if you have any doubts, then now's the time to ask. I'll tell you the truth. If you think you can handle it."

"What about me? Good question..."

Michael talked about his typical day before Charlie took over, then his happiness at how things were now. Ashley wanted to ask more about the nurse, but again, that would have brought questions about who she'd been fucking or, more accurately, who'd been fucking her.

She couldn't help but imagine for a moment her stepfather whipping his cock out to put it inside the nurse, who was relatively petite compared to Ashley's mother, Mindy. Ashley had seen Michael's manhood on at least three occasions, not that he would know that. It had been times when he didn't know she was in the house or at least thought she was in a distant room. Once he'd simply been dressing beyond a door that was slightly cracked open; another he'd been walking toward his and her mother's ensuite bathroom, again with the door a bit ajar.

But the last time she'd caught sight of it, Michael had been ramming it deep into
her mother as Mindy herself was on her hands and knees atop the end of their super-king bed. Ashley had been in absolute awe of what she was seeing, for the erotic act itself, for her mother's cries of joy, for Michael's grunts of mixed exertion and pleasure, but mostly for that monster of a cock that her stepfather was driving full length in and out of mother.

Ashley didn't know whether Michael had done it on purpose or accidentally, but just a slight moment before he came, his still-plunging cock slipped out of Mindy's wetness to land between the curves of her perfectly toned ass. When it went off cannon-like, it sent streams of jizz up and down Mindy's backside, the last volleys pooling up at the small of her back while the first shot had actually landed in her hair.

The teen had been wide eyed and opened mouthed at the incredible show. Oh, she'd seen porn -- who hadn't -- but this was live and it was her mother and stepfather! Oh ... my ... God! Ashley's glances shifted from Michael with his look of pure ecstasy to her mother with her questions of Did you cum ... did you cum??, but mostly she simply stared at her stepfather's cock as it laid there, impossibly long and hard, glistening under the recessed lighting, as it continued to twitch, even after the last drops of his seed had ceased to emerge.

And now he's going the nurse, Ashley mused to herself, her brain adding silently and almost brutally, lucky girl.

"Do you actually think I had something to do with your mother's disappearance?"

Suddenly, Ashley's reverie of that amazing time came to a crushing end like a truck hitting a freeway overpass. She'd been about to interrupt him, about to tell Michael that she didn't believe he'd killed her. She didn't yet know whether she was ready to tell him why, though: the diamonds.

But then he said, "I'll tell you the truth. If you think you can handle it."

That piqued Ashley's interest. There was so much of the truth behind her mother's disappearance and her stepfather's incarceration of which she simply wasn't aware. If she simply told him No, that might be the end of the conversation; if she said Tell me, she might learn a great deal, for bad of good.

Her answer was a simple nod of her head.

"So that's a yes," Michael replied, more answer than question. "OK. Think we'll need a drink."

Michael fetched a bottle of vodka he'd procured from the store and two glasses. He poured a hefty measure for both of them and slid one across the table to Ashley. He raised his glass.

"Here's to the truth."

He sunk his drink in one swallow then set the glass down and refilled it.

"Your mother cut and run, Ash," Michael began. "The business? The thing she was most proud of? The thing that occupied all her waking hours, instead of her daughter, her husband and her life? It was failing. And your mother ran before it all came crashing down."

He took a sip, this one smaller than the first.

"I first found out about it by accident. I overheard her talking about it with her Chief Financial Officer one night. I'd been trying to sleep but couldn't. I came down the stairs in the beach house and there she was on the phone. I only heard her side of the conversation but it was enough."

"I did a little digging. I hired a financial investigator who told me that the company was in deep trouble. Seriously over-extended. They'd spent a lot of money expanding but, with the downturn in the economy, were struggling to recoup their investment. The IRS was showing interest as well over unpaid taxes. The company had been served a notice of intent to investigate."

"Your mother must have known. She started siphoning off money into an offshore shell company that the investigator couldn't get details of but the sums were huge."

Michael took another sip.

"Then things got really bad. You'll remember how much of a control freak your mother was. Well, she became about a hundred times worse. It was getting intolerable. We had frequent fights, mostly when you were out. One day, after a really bad one, I confronted her with it. She went quiet. And left. Not your mother's style at all."

"A few days later, when we were talking again, barely, I gave her an ultimatum. Come clean and sort out her finances. Or get the shit out of Dodge. Whatever she chose, there was no way I was going to let you and me be part of the crash. She said nothing. But a week later, she disappeared."

Michael finished the vodka.

"So. There you go. I didn't murder her. But, in a way, I was responsible for her disappearance. Sorry. But not really."