Chapter 49

Jessica was looking at the floor. She didn't want to look at the man she was sitting across from. Not that he scared her ... well, not in a physical sense. It was his questions. They had transformed from easy, safe questions to more personal, probing questions.

The last one, the one she was now trying to figure out how to answer was the worst yet.

'Had John done anything that could be construed as sexual towards her?'

A thought struck her and she looked up.

"Who gets to know this information?"

Ken smiled warmly.

"There are a couple of ways I can answer that question," he replied.

"How about the straight honest truth?"

His brow wrinkled as he answered. "Unfortunately, although I will tell you the truth, there is nothing straightforward about it. So here's how it goes. Anything you tell me, even though you're a minor, is held in strict confidence. That seems straight forward enough, doesn't it? Now, for the curve. If you tell me anything that suggests that you are or have been sexually molested I am technically required to report it, even if reporting that breaks the confidentiality code. If you ask me, it is a fucked up law. It is supposed to be there to protect, but it has a definite double edge. If you came to me for help, but weren't ready to expose a perpetrator, I would in fact do more harm to you. The lawmakers don't care about you. They want the perp, no matter the cost. We see battered wives go back to husbands all the time, even to the point where they get killed. Somehow, that is just fine. A girl your age, doesn't ... technically ... get that choice."

"You've said 'technically, ' several times. What, exactly, do you mean?"

"They told me you were smart. It means that at some point I have to make a choice. Most psychologists have made the same choice, but not all. It is important for you to remember this. My choice is ... that if I thought you were in danger, I would act. If there were choices that you could make, I would steer you to them. My position is not to judge another person's life choices. My position is to help them when they have problems."

"So if I said John and I were having sex..."

"Are you?"

"You didn't answer."

"You didn't ask a question."

Jessica allowed herself a little smile. Even with this difficult subject, she was having fun, now. She realized she was relaxed.

"If John and I were having sex, would you think there was a problem with that?"

"If John was forcing you to have sex, then yes."

"Good."

"All right, then. Back to my original question."

"We haven't had sex. I just wanted you to know."

"I already did."

Jessica was astonished.

"How?" she asked.

"You don't act like it."

"I don't what?"

"If you have been in my business long enough, you know. Now the question..."

This time Jessica could think calmly about the question itself, instead of what and how she should answer it.

"I think it's an odd question. What I might interpret as John doing something sexual, and what he intended, could be two different things."

Ken grinned and said, "You are very right. There are many ways of looking at this. If John didn't care about your feelings, then he might say rather crude things to you, just to see how far it gets him."

"John loves me," Jessica said with a flush running across her face. "He ... you should see the love lette..."

Jessica broke down in tears. She hadn't thought of the love letter John had sent her until just now. It was gone. Burnt. That special letter. She'd even had her mother buy a container for it, so it'd be preserved.

"Was the letter in the house that burnt?" Ken asked in a soothing voice, wanting to clarify her actions.

He saw her nod. There was little for him to do but wait. Nothing he could say would take away the pain of a loss like that. He would wait until she could talk, and then get her to see how she could live with the loss.

Barnes looked over to Downs, as soon as the dressings had been changed. They were back to lying there, with nothing much to do. Downs didn't need to be in there, but there was little for him to do. Besides, he'd rather be in there, than anywhere else on Earth.

"When will we know?"

"A drop."

"Here?"

"Tomorrow."

"What will it be?"

"The drop itself will tell us something."

"How so?"

"If there's a parachute, then everything is done. The contents will give us orders."

"Then there might be one without a parachute? Doesn't make sense."

"It would, if you could track it. A parachute might show up, possibly, on a radar screen."

"But if they drop one without a chute, that could cause a lot of damage if it hit the building. I do remember my physics class."