Part Twenty Seven: The Home Front



Every day seemed the same, as if it were the rerun of a tiresome TV program, that Rahab was trapped into watching. Mike was not terribly sympathetic with her when she told him this.

"So change the friggin' channel," he snapped. "I dunno about you, but Gaele's still going to school, and I'm off to register her for next fall, whether the world's gonna end for you or not. She's already missed half a year of kindergarten, because of this stupid paranoia on yours and Leo's part."

Rahab opened her mouth to protest, but was too surprised to think of anything to say.

Mike went out and slammed the front door. In a few moments he came back in again. "Uh, Rahab?"

"Really, Mike, there's no need to apologize-"

"I'm not. I mean, I would have, but- I think Don's car just pulled up." He went back out again.

Rahab wanted to run to the front window to look, but she made herself walk slowly. Calm is as calm does, Splinter had once told her. Easy for you to say, Sensei, you aren't going through a divorce.

The front door opened, and Don strode in. His coat looked like he'd slept in it. He gave Rahab a bland look, then nodded a silent greeting.

"Don, ah..." Rahab said faintly. "What can I do for you?" She felt silly after she said that.

Don gave her another long look. "Thank you, nothing," He walked past her into the main area of the house.

Rahab stared at his retreating back, feeling flustered. "Make yourself at home, Don." She stood trembling, as emotions warred inside of her. She felt someone touch her on the back, and she jumped. She saw it was Mike, and exhaled noisily.

"Take it easy, Rahab," he said, as he passed her. He was carrying a thick, familiar looking envelope. "Raph's not here."

"He's not here," Rahab muttered. "So what else is new?"

Mike held up the envelope before letting it rest on the table with a resounding thud. "I believe this is for you."

"What is it?" Rahab approached the kitchen table.

"I dunno, Don just handed it to me, and-"

"It's your divorce papers," Don interrupted, as he slung his coat on a nearby chair. "Raphael signed all of them, there's no contest, you get full custody of Devon, etcetera... however, there's nothing by way of property, since I basically own everything."

"What is THAT supposed to mean," Rahab demanded, walking toward him, hands on her hips.

"It means I basically own everything," Don repeated calmly, as he went to the sink to rinse out a cup, and pour himself a drink from the refrigerator dispenser.

"You don't own ME," Rahab countered, hackles rising.

Don stared at her from over his cup. "No... but I own this house."

"You think I don't know that?"

"Uh, Rahab-" Mike started to say.

"Stay out of this, Mike," Rahab snapped. "Fine, Don, so you own the house. Big whoop de DOO! That's just FINE with me."

Don ignored her outburst. "Mike, have you seen Leo?" He settled into the nearest recliner.

"He's probably on a meditation run... something like that." He grinned at Don's narrow expression.

"Meditation run?" Don repeated slowly. "He's supposed to be looking after the house."

"Oh, is he a servant of yours, too?" Rahab broke in. "Is everybody your servant, Don? Just who the hell do you think you are, barging in like this-"

"I would appreciate you not addressing me in that tone of voice," Don said smoothly to his cup. "I'm not in the mood to play your games."

Rahab glared at him a moment, but he didn't look up. She turned and grabbed the envelope on the table, and rifled through its contents. She saw Raphael's signature slashed across the notarized documents. Her eyes unfocused as she set them down again. It's true, she thought. It's official, it's over. She slowly walked to the bar, and got out a glass and an unopened bottle of Jack Daniels, and set them on the counter.

"What are you doing," Mike asked, mouth ajar.

She turned around to face him and raised the amber filled glass. "I'm celebrating the death of a marriage. Care to join me?" She raised the glass to her lips, and downed the contents. Rahab blinked back the tears caused by the strong drink, and gasped for breath, as she reached for the bottle, and poured another. She drank it quickly and managed to pour yet another glass before Mike took the bottle out of her hand.

"Not a good idea, Rahab. You don't react well to alcohol," he said gently.

"Give me the bottle, Mike." Rahab said, feeling surprisingly calm.

Mike shook his head, and glanced at Don, who watched apathetically.

"Give me the bottle," Rahab repeated. She said it several times, as Mike continued to shake his head, and hold the bottle to his chest.

"You're no good," she said in disgust, and set the now empty glass down as hard as she could.

She glared at Don as she passed him, and continued into the atrium. She started to feel odd, and nearly lost her balance. She knelt on the couch, and laid her head on the low back, as she felt the effects of the whiskey seeping into her brain, making her legs turn to rubber, and her head heavy. Her stomach churned and she groaned, but at least the knot of anxiety was melting away into numbness... she heard voices talking, back and forth, back and forth, talking about her, but she didn't care what they were saying. She was terribly tired, and promptly fell asleep.



When she woke, she was in her bed. She stretched and rolled over, and instantly regretted it, because her head spun, and she felt a tremendous wave of nausea. She sat up and vomited all over the comforter. Disgusted, she peeled the covers away from her and stumbled to the bathroom, and spewed again on the floor. She blindly climbed into the jacuzzi, and half sat, half lay in the tub, moaning softly from the pounding in her head.

"Aow, GROSS," she heard somebody exclaim in the next room. "Geez, Rahab..." Mike's voice entered the bathroom. "You haven't drowned, have you?"

"I wish," Rahab muttered, one hand clamped over her eyes.

She heard him curse under his breath about the bathroom floor, as he went out again.

Rahab drifted in and out of various states of semiconsciousness, and when she opened her eyes again, Mike's face was hovering over her, with a mixed expression mixture of disgust and amusement.

"La-ady, I'm sure right ta-ard of picken' up after you," he drawled, and then grinned.

"What, you like to watch people take baths?"

Mike laughed. "Well, in your case it's kinda funny to see you wallowing in there with all your clothes on."

Rahab stared at herself, and realized with dismay she was still dressed in the clothes from the night before. She groaned. "Why didn't you say something?"

"I just did. Hey, look on the bright side. At least nobody took advantage of you THIS time."

"Very funny. Very VERY funny, Michael Angelo."

"Hmm. You never call me that." He laid something cool on her head. "Here ya go, a cold pack for your head and some ginger root tea for your poor, abused body." She heard his voice rise above her as he got up. "When you get a chance, peel those outer layers off and toss 'em out, and I'll drop them in the laundry for you. Okay?"

"Yes, massah..." Rahab murmered.

Mike sniggered as he left the bathroom. "Rahab, the-laugh-a-minute lady."

"No, I'm not," Rahab said half to herself, holding the pack over her eyes.



Later, after the worst of the hangover had worn off, Rahab came out into the kitchen to bring her teacup back. She yawned mightily, and trembled at a sudden chill. She looked out the window and could see Mike out with Gaele and Devon, and they were giggling and jumping on him in the sand. She watched a while, feeling terribly sad, and shuffled to the nearest kitchen chair and sat down. Her head sank into her folded arms that rested on the table.

"Good afternoon, Rahab," she heard Leo's soft voice nearby. She looked groggily at him. He was holding Seth, who calmly looked at her, thumb in mouth. "How are you feeling?"

She yawned. "Incredibly tired, as though I could sleep for weeks. Is Seth all right? He seems awfully quiet."

"We just got back from a long walk, he rode on my neck, and I brought a bottle with me, which he took without any trouble... he must have been pretty thirsty."

Seth turned and nuzzled the base of Leo's throat, and closed his eyes.

"He's taking to you pretty well, isn't he?"

"Yes, I believe he is. He's also very sleepy." Leo smiled gently at her, and took Seth to his room.

Rahab stared moodily into space, her chin propped on her hands. She felt the air stir, and she snapped her head around, startled. Don was standing in the kitchen, in a grey bath robe, carefully pouring himself a cup of coffee.

"Ah! Don," Rahab exclaimed, pressing her hands into her now pounding chest.

He glanced at her out of the corner of his eye, as he got himself something to eat. When he sat at the table opposite her, he took a sip from his cup and studied her.

"Don't ask me how I'm feeling," she said.

"I won't, then."

She watched him eat, and butter his bread with the precision of a surgeon. Not a crumb dropped to the table. When he finished, he set his flatware in the exact center of his plate and folded his napkin, and placed it over the top of the plate.

"So, Don... kill anybody lately?"

Don looked sharply at her, but she wasn't smiling. He studied her for a moment, one eyebrow lowered, and took another careful sip from his cup. "Why did you ask me that, Rahab?"

"Because... you have that odd kind of detachment about you, that I saw after that incident in New York."

"What incident?"

"You know, Croton."

"Oh, that," he said tonelessly. He was silent a moment. Rahab could see the sadness in his eyes.

"You were pretty cold to me yesterday. I thought it might have been to do with the divorce, and that you were overtired..."

"Yes, I was overtired. But the divorce has nothing to do with me."

"Except that you were quick to notify me that I get zip in any sort of assets, and probably a big goose egg for child support."

Don shook his head. "There will be no child support beyond what Devon is receiving now. He will always be provided for... and so will you. You have nothing to be concerned about, financially."

"What do I have to do in return?"

"Take care of your children, Rahab, and take care of yourself."

"When Raph was notified of the divorce, was he... very upset?"

Don sat back in his chair. "If he was, he didn't show it. He was somewhat distracted by the job at hand. Maybe it hasn't hit him yet... maybe he's beyond caring at the moment."

"Is he- where is he?" Rahab asked hesitantly.

"He was in New York, last time I saw him." Don shifted forward in his seat. "The best thing for you to do is not worry about him, all right? I think you should pick yourself up and go on with your life, and enjoy your children while they are small. They are your assets, and in my opinion, worth far more than all that I own."

Rahab looked at him, and then nodded absently. "Okay, but I want you to know something. I am NOT happy about getting divorced. It's just that I think it might be better for everyone in the long run."

"I agree. It might be best for Raphael, since I've had the opportunity to observe him in a close setting."

"What... was he like?"

Don leaned his elbows on the table and looked carefully at her. "He's just, ah, emotionally bankrupt," he said after a silent moment.

"Oh," Rahab said faintly. "I see." Rahab saw the envelope was still on the table, and pulled the sheaf of papers out again. She studied Raphael's obviously hasty signature on the top sheet. He usually wrote in a spiky, haphazard fashion, using mostly uppercase letters. His signatures started out with the vague resemblance of an 'R', followed by a nearly flat coastline that tapered off,then suddenly turned in at a sharp angle and came back nearly to the starting point, somewhere under the 'R'. Like a skinny, legless iguana looking over its back, Rahab mused.

She looked to see Don pressing his brow with his fingers, his palms covering his eyes. He breathed in sharply through his teeth, and let his breath slowly out again in a soft hiss.

"Are you okay," Rahab asked him.

He eventually lowered his hands, and opened his eyes. "I'm fine," he said softly. He seemed to look through her, with half closed lids, and then rolled his head back to flex his neck. "Just a minor anxiety attack."

"Oh. You get those too, huh?" Rahab nodded. "I thought I was the only one."

He leveled out to look at her. "No, you are not the only one." He reached under his robe to knead the scarred deltoid muscle of his right arm, an odd light in his eyes. "Sometimes things remind me of... certain bad days."

"I'm sorry if I offended you, last night," Rahab said, watching him.

Don smiled. "No offense taken, Rahab. I found it all very amusing. You must have proposed to Mike a dozen times before he picked you up and carried you to your room."

Rahab's eyes grew round. "Wha-at?"

"You don't recall, do you?"

"I don't remember doing that!" Rahab's mouth refused to shut, she was so flustered.

Don chuckled a little. "The last thing you said was, 'Mikey, darling, carry me to our wedding bed!' I have to tell you, it did a lot for me, I actually fell asleep laughing."

"I said THAT?"

"Rahab, do you drink often?" Don asked, thoughtfully tapping his chin with a forefinger.

"No," she sighed. "Pretty obvious, isn't it?"

Don shrugged a little. His amusement faded. "It hurts to end a marriage, I know. Whether by divorce or death... it hurts." He laid his hands over his eyes again, and left them there, as he propped his elbows on the table.

"Were you married?" Rahab wondered belatedly whether she should pursue the subject, when Don was in such a sensitive mood.

"Yes," he said through his hands. He slowly pulled them down his face, and lowered them to the table top. He looked at his hands resting there, as though waiting for them to do something else. "I mentioned her once, if you recall..."

"Would that be Bara?"

Don was inspecting his fingernails for imperfections that didn't exist. "Do you know what Bara means in Japanese?" he asked at length.

"Some kind of rose, I think." Rahab said thoughtfully.

He nodded. "Rose. A rose by any other name, is still a rose," he said, exhaling in a sigh. "I was so enthralled by the beauty of this rose, and her intoxicating scent, I forgot about... the thorns." His voice faded on the last two words.

"Nobody's perfect," Rahab said lamely.

Don shook his head slightly in agreement. Rahab could see his composure was deteriorating, and she felt a wave of discomfort and pity for him. He cradled his head in his forearms. "She's still here," he whispered.

Rahab looked up to see Leo standing beside the table. He gestured silently for her to get up, and she did so, following him outside. Mike was sitting on the lawn next to the swings, with Devon in his lap, and Gaele draped over his shoulder. They were engrossed in a book.

"Is Don okay," Rahab asked Leo. Out of the corner of her eye she saw Mike look up.

"He has his spells," Leo said. "It has been a very stressful time for him these past few months, but he rides through them all right."

"I didn't know he was married."

Leo nodded.

Rahab stole another glance at Mike, who had gone back to his reading of the book. She felt a wave of guilt and self consciousness at what Don had told her. She must have sounded pretty stupid...

Leo had said something to her.

"I'm sorry, what?" she said. looking at him.

"You look a lot better," Leo repeated.

"Thanks, I feel better." Not knowing why, she giggled and punched Leo's shoulder playfully. "I appreciate your concern."

Leo smiled in uncertainty at her sudden burst of friendliness. She smiled back. She stole another glance at Mike, but he didn't notice.



That evening, Mike approached her, and took her by the arm out to the patio. Unsure of what he wanted, she went along reluctantly.

"Interesting turn of events," Mike said, when they were alone.

"What do you mean?"

Mike squinted at her. "Don't play innocent with me, sweetheart. I saw what you did this afternoon, making a lame attempt at flirting with Leo. I didn't want to say anything, but it's becoming apparent that you are playing a game that I don't approve of."

"Why not?" Rahab folded her arms. "I mean, do I have to do things you approve of?"

"No. But if you're doing it to get my attention-"

"How do you know I was doing it to get your attention," Rahab interrupted.

"If you are doing it to get my attention, it won't work," Mike repeated. "You don't have to play any kind of head game to get my attention, you already have it. I'm raising your kids, for gods' sake. Doesn't that tell you something?"

"All right, then why are you upset?"

"I'm not upset, I'm concerned. I don't think it's a good idea play around with Leo like that. I'm sure he's on to your little game."

Rahab was silent.

"Why are you doing it," Mike asked in an gentler voice.

"Because I'm embarrassed around you, Mike. Don told me what I said to you the other night, and I don't remember saying it, that's all. I feel really stupid."

Mike busted out laughing, causing her to jump. "D'you think I took you seriously? You were WASTED. Geez, I couldn't begin to tell you the stuff I've said at parties, that I don't remember half the time-"

"You? I've never seen you get drunk," Rahab said in surprise.

Mike snorted. "It's just as well, because I act like a total doofus. They've written whole dialogues on the crap I've come up with when I was half in the bag, can you imagine? And then there was those tribal dudes from Nogales who brought some of their homegrown rattlesnake spit- Yayzum, what a trip THAT was..."

"Rattlesnake spit?" Rahab asked, puzzled.

Mike sniggered. "Tequila. The point is, Rahab," he went on, "We all say and do things we wish we hadn't. Only some people won't let you forget it. I've been branded as a party animal, even though I don't really do up as much as they say I do. They think I'm into all kind of stuff... But you know better, dont'cha?"

"I'm not so sure," Rahab said doubtfully.

"Oh, come on," Mike protested. "Since Gaele's come around, the parties have basically ended. It's all behind me. Hey, it was just a big act. It really was. An act."

"When are you NOT putting on an act, Mike?"

Mike didn't answer.

"You still throw parties, and have those girlie magazine models hanging around your house-"

"What's wrong with that?"

"Tell me something, Mike," Rahab said, pointing a forefinger at Mike's chest. "If Gaele were dating, would you want her to go out with somebody like you? On a motorcycle, wearing all that leather... and that awful jacket?

Mike didn't answer.

"Gaele said she wants to be just like you. Not like me, like you," Rahab said quietly.

"Maybe because she sees more of me than you."

"Maybe because you're more fun to be around."

"Maybe... because you have two other kids to raise that aren't mine."

"Let's not start that again."

Mike sighed, and looked up at her. "It's the truth, isn't it? Listen, I'm not trying to be a smartass, I'm trying to be honest, here. I came outside here to talk to you."

"Isn't that what we're doing?"

Mike stood closer to her. "Naw, I want to TALK to you."

Rahab looked up into his face. He smiled his own version of a transparent smile.

"So, talk," Rahab said, trying to sound nonchalant, in spite of the wierdness she felt at his close proximity. She looked at his shoulders. He seemed bigger, lately...

"Aren't you gonna listen to me?"

"Uh... yeah," Rahab said absently.

"We can't continue on like what you've been doing lately, Rahab. It's not good for the kids. It's not good for them to see their mother trying to act like a bimbo cheesecake, even though I know for a fact that you're not."

"Huh! Maybe one of your old girlfriends could give me a few pointers, then."

"Look, no offense intended, but I just want to remind you that it's important for the kids- especially Gaele- that her parents behave in a respectable way."

"What are you saying, Mike?"

"I'm saying that maybe you and I should get hitched before anything starts happening between us."

"WHAT?" Rahab's jaw dropped. Then she closed it again. "You making fun of me, aren't you? After what I said last night-"

"No," Mike said emphatically. "What you said kind of brought things to the surface, that's all. Got me to thinking."

"That's a refreshing change."

"Rahab, I'm serious about this. Maybe you've forgotten what you and I talked about that night you couldn't sleep, remember? You were practically begging for some action. You're standing here now, all dewy eyed, hoping maybe I'll scoop you up and carry you off somewhere nice and quiet."

Rahab squinted at him. "Yeah, right! Give a friggin' break," she retorted, expecting him to laugh it off. When he didn't, she got quiet. "Sorry. I didn't mean it that way. I meant... that maybe I do have feelings for you, but maybe it's because I'm lonely and scared."

"I know you're lonely and scared. You don't have to be, you know."

"I'm not in any shape to get married, Mike. Not to anybody."

"But it's okay if you want to screw around, right? Until you come to your senses? Then it's off to somebody else? So who's next, Don? Or would you rather have all of us at ONCE?"

She wanted to slap him, but decided against it. Her thoughts bounced from one emotion to another, as she covered her face in her hands. "Stop it, Mike, just stop," she whispered.

Mike sighed. "An open mouth catches the most flies," he muttered. "Which is great if you're a frog."

His comment made Rahab catch her breath, then laugh aloud. "It's so hard to stay MAD at you," she gasped when she recovered. "A frog... what are you trying to do, turn me into a lunatic?"

"No," Mike said with a mild chuckle. "You already have done that to me."

"I have, uh?" Rahab looked skeptically at him.

"Yeah..." he said softly.

He started to say something else, but a foreign expression clouded his face, and his eyes grew round as he snapped his head up to look at the sky. He turned and slung Rahab to the ground, and leaped over her in the direction of the back lawn.

Too surprised to react, Rahab lay where she had fallen behind a wall of potted lemon trees, and spat dirt out of her mouth. Suddenly she was flattened by a tremendous shock wave, and she felt the trees land hard across her back. Then hands were on her, frantically feeling her head and neck, pulling away the debris.

She looked up, and saw Leo and Don bent over her, their mouths moving, but she could not hear them. Leo's eyes blazed as he leaped up and ran in the same direction Mike had gone, and Don looked anxiously around, as he helped Rahab to her feet and half dragged her into the house. She stumbled over her own feet, confused, and shook her head to try to stop the roaring in her ears. Don led her by the arm to Gaele's room, and she could see Gaele sitting up in her bed, in the dark. Don picked her up, and then they went to Devon's room. Devon was crouched in the closet, his mouth open in a wail that Rahab could not hear. Don swept Devon up onto his other arm, and by then, Rahab got the idea, and she headed for Seth's room. Seth was standing up in his crib, wide-eyed, and he promptly reached for her as she picked him up. She followed Don into the windowless utility room, and he moved boxes and bags to create a space for all of them to sit, behind the shelves. He handed her a flashlight, then he started to head out the door.

"No," she tried to yell, but she wasn't sure, because she couldn't hear herself. Don turned and lightly put his hand on her mouth to quiet her. She watched his face, as he gestured for her to sit still.

She shook her head vigorously. He quickly pantomimed that he was going to be right outside the door, and she reluctantly nodded in agreement. He gave her cheek a reassuring pat, and went out.

She settled back, and looked at the frightened faces of her children staring up at her. It won't do to act scared, Rahab thought. Not in front of them. She smiled at them and gathered them to her. She found comfort in their clinging limbs and warm little bodies, and she relaxed a little, as she petted their heads. Her frantic thoughts slowed, and sorted themselves into some rational order, though the noise in her ears did not stop.

Somebody tapped her on the shoulder. She looked up to see Gaele talking, probably asking questions, but Rahab put a finger to her lips. Devon opened his mouth, until Don stuck his head through the door and said something that made the kids shrink into stillness. Even Devon lowered his head without protest. Don must have told them something pretty serious. But what was happening, another attack? Leo had said it wouldn't happen here. Rahab took a deep breath and let it out slowly, to control the trembling. Seth's eyes were scrinched shut, and his mouth was round, and Rahab quickly brought him closer, and arranged her shirt to let him nurse. His four new teeth made her wince, reminding her that the time to wean him was drawing near. He was getting used to the bottle, and Leo... she suddenly felt sad, and hoped fervently nothing would bad would happen. She tried not to think of Mike, but she couldn't block out the nagging fear that the explosion might have killed him. She closed her eyes and leaned back against the wall.

Someone touched the top of her head. She looked up to see Don bending over her, as he picked up Devon who was asleep, and took hold of Gaele's hand. Rahab looked at him questioningly, but his face told her nothing. He gestured with his head for her to follow him, and she got up slowly, feeling her knees crackle from the long period of sitting. Seth was fast asleep in her arms, and she realized she had not covered herself from Seth's feeding, and pulled her shirt down hastily. She wondered for a fleeting moment if Don had noticed, but he looked preoccupied. The thrumming in her ears had lessened, but she still could not hear. She could see it was daylight through the kitchen window, and she saw Mike, sitting at the kitchen table, one leg up on another chair, as Leo bent over it. She saw large drops of blood on the tiled floor, and she must have made a sound, because they both looked up at her at the same time. Mike grinned at her, and said something.

"I can't hear," she said.

Leo and Mike looked distressed as they started talking to each other, and then Mike beckoned to Rahab. His leg looked awful. He caught the look on her face, and reached for her hand. Don brought over a chair, and she sat next to Mike, and watched him carefully as he talked.

"I'm okay, I fell, " he mouthed.

"What about your ears," she said.
He showed her that he had covered his, and that they were okay. Someone tapped her on the shoulder, and she looked up. Don handed her a note. She took it and read: Can you hear anything at all?

She looked at Don and said aloud, "Buzzing, ringing." She watched Don reach close to her ear and snap his fingers, and she heard a dull, thubbing sound. She nodded. "I heard that, a little."

Good, he seemed to say, and looked relieved. He wrote another note, and handed it to her, which read: "Shock wave might have broken your eardrums, but I don't think the damage is permanent. I think you should have them looked at."

"Good idea," she said, as she watched Leo carefully clean the gash on Mike's knee, and wrap it while he and Mike talked. Don disappeared somewhere, and the kids were lying in front of the TV, half asleep. She got up and wandered around the house. If it weren't for the pain in her ears, she would have thought it had been a bad dream. She went outside, and across the lawn, in the direction that Mike had run last night. She went to the edge of the outer wall, and climbed up on a tree pot to look out over it. What little vegetation there had been below was gone, and charred and broken rocks lay scattered across the ravine. Then she saw the bodies. Or what remained of them. Some were broken up in pieces, like some of Gaele's dolls, after Devon had finished with them... she craned her neck to look straight down, and saw the pale face of a man staring up at her. She sucked her breath in, and then she realized he was dead. Something was keeping the body upright against the wall, with what looked like a series of sticks in his neck and back...

Someone touched her shoulder. She jerked her hands up to defend herself, and turned to see Leo standing there. He looked annoyed as he gestured for her to step down, and she did so. She stared dully at him as he pointed at the house, until he took her hand and led her in that direction. She didn't want to go into the house, she didn't want the children to see the reflection of death in her eyes. She suddenly pulled out of Leo's reach and ran away across the garden. He took hold of her again, to slow her down. She didn't want to slow down, she wanted to keep running, to get away from Leo, the house with the shattered windows, and horrors in the ravine... she struggled, but he held her in a firm, sure embrace, and she finally wilted, her energy spent, her adrenaline wearing off. She numbly let him pick her up and carry her into the house, and she closed her eyes, so she wouldn't have to see anything anymore.

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