Author Note: You'll need to read part one of this story, Twenty Minutes, or it will not make any sense.
She was shaking with fear when she left the police station. Had she been followed? Were they waiting for her? She stood out front for a few minutes, absolutely terrified, until the cab she'd called finally pulled up and she slid inside. She turned every which way frantically to make sure no other cars followed them. She wasn't sure she could spot a tail, not if they knew what they were doing, but it made her feel better to look around anyway.
Shy had told her not to return to her apartment, but how could she do that? She needed her birth certificate, her social security card, her nursing license...and there were photos, keepsakes. But she might have to leave some of those things behind. If she went to her apartment, rummaging around and packing bags, she'd probably be killed. So, that was probably not a good idea. Maybe she could ask someone they'd never seen to get her important papers for her?
She leaned forward to give the driver a different address, ignoring his groan when she mentioned a location in the opposite direction. She'd go to Janet's house. It was the only real option she had. If they had any clue where she lived, Janet would probably confuse them. A gorgeous, white, blonde woman showing up in her stead? Since she was amazed they were friends, surely that would amaze anyone else.
The cab let her out five blocks from Janet's house. If she was going to risk a life, she would risk her own, not her friend's. And if she couldn't tell that someone was following her on a residential, deserted street at 2am, then all was lost for her future. Walking slowly, she tried to pretend it was simply a leisurely stroll in the dead of night (hey, if anyone was paying attention, it didn't matter because they would most likely kill her anyway). She stopped two doors down from Janet's moderate sized home and called her friend with shaky hands.
"Robbie, what the fuck? Do you know what time it is?" Janet growled.
"J-Janet," she tried to keep her voice from wavering, realizing it wasn't working. She swallowed hard, "J, I need you."
She didn't hear a trace of sleep in her friend's voice when she spoke again and she knew Janet was definitely awake now, "what's wrong? Where are you?"
"Near you."
"Well get over here."
The line disconnected and she quickly walked to her friend's home just as Janet opened the front door. After closing and locking the door, Janet drew her in for a hug.
"What's wrong? What happened? Are you okay?"
She tried to remain strong, tried to hold back, but it was a lost cause. The story poured out of her amidst a torrent of tears.
*
They sat at a small breakfast table in the kitchen an hour later. Janet had managed to make a pot of coffee even though her hands were now shaking. The cups sat before them untouched.
"Fuck Robbie. What are you going to do?"
Robbie shook her head, wiping at the last of her tears. "She told me not to go back to the apartment, to just leave...I-I-" She struggled past the fear. "I have no idea where to go. I can't go to Chicago, what if they follow me? I'm not going to put my family at risk."
Janet nodded, picking at a piece of cheesecake she'd managed to dig up. They were silent for a while, both thinking about possibilities.
"Did she really leave you all that money?" Janet finally asked, her curiosity getting the best of her.
Robbie unzipped the black nylon bag and shoved it toward Janet. Janet could do nothing but stare for a moment. It was a lot of money. Mostly small bills, some large...a lot of money. She reached for it and removed it all from the bag, piling it onto the table. Robbie watched her count it, not really caring about the total sum. She'd rather have Shy back, quite honestly, instead of a bag filled with money. The thought made her smile bitterly. A bag of money at the beginning of their relationship and now a bag of money at the end...how ironic.
"It's really $200,000 Robbie. Actually, it's $218, 342."
Robbie shrugged, "I don't care."
Janet looked over at her friend, sighing. She replaced the money and zipped the bag closed as her husband strode into the kitchen.
"Hey, you gals okay?"