Tawny feigned illness during gym class and rushed to her dorm room to pack.

Maddie was still in fourth-period class; that gave Tawny at least 50 minutes to accomplish what she needed to.

She was a flurry of activity, stuffing clothes and other items into her suitcase as though Ivoree Gates was about to get nuked.

The school was safe; Tawny's mind, however, was a different beast entirely, mirroring the same intensity as her physical actions.

As she packed, she replayed the events from earlier in her head.

She had found herself back in Dylan's rustic living room. It was the same layout as before, only this time, in lieu of a suitcase of money, Dylan had with him a small team of lawyers. The stone-faced men and women in suits stood silently around the plush chair where Dylan sat.

He slowly pushed a sheet of paper along the surface of the coffee table in front of him toward Tawny.

"It's a contract," explained Dylan evenly. "Standard boilerplate stuff. A little non-disclosure sprinkled in there. Ironclad, of course."

"Of course," Tawny said drily, picking up the sheet of paper and scrutinizing it carefully.

The space was deathly quiet save for the crackling of the lit fireplace, which cast an eerie, unnatural glow on Dylan and his legal cronies.

At last, Tawny set the contract down on the table and looked Dylan in the eyes. "Do you have a pen?"

Dylan pulled out a gold, expensive-looking ballpoint pen from out of his pants pocket and clicked it into writing mode. "Of course," he obliged. "And don't worry, this is one's on the house."

Tawny took the pen (inwardly marveling at its heft and intricate beauty) and took a deep breath. She then wordlessly scritched her signature on the blank line at the bottom of the contract.

Almost immediately a lawyer scooped up the contract and secured it in a professional legal binder. Then all the lawyers left the room in a single-file line, like ominous legal spectres in the night.

Dylan trailed behind them. "I assume you'll want to keep your dorm room?"

Tawny shook her head. "No. If it's all the same to you, I'll take you up on your lodging offer."

Dylan cocked his eyebrow. "Okay. Then a shuttle will arrive at the end of the school to retrieve you."

He was halfway out the door when he peeked back inside the living room one last time. "Oh, and Tawny...it's a pleasure finally doing business with you."

His words sounded sincere, but Tawny caught a hint of a wry smirk as he finally exited the room.

---

That was several hours ago. Now Tawny was staring at her side of the room: stripped bare save for a few larger items that she couldn't carry with her.

Tawny cared for Maddie, but for her own self-preservation, she could not continue living with her. A free roundtrip plane ticket was one thing, but she couldn't possibly expect Maddie to continue her generosity toward her sick mother. And even if she inexplicably would, Tawny did not want to give her the opportunity.

The more Maddie was left in the dark about the situation, the better it would be for both of them. Even if it was going to put a damper on their friendship.

Tawny pulled out a scrap of paper and hastily scrawled "I'm sorry", then placed it on Maddie's bed. Then, with one last longing look at her dorm room, she exited out the door.

A modest-sized black commuter van sat idly in front of the steps of Ivoree Gates, its sliding doors open. Tawny descended slowly, lugging her suitcase behind her. She could see the van was already quite full, a gaggle of teenage girls in maid uniforms strapping their seatbelts.

A hush fell upon the commuter van when Tawny boarded.

That was all well and good, Tawny thought, closing the door behind her and fastening her own seatbelt. She wasn't in an especially talkative mood.

But as the vehicle pulled away from Ivoree Gates, the girl who sat across from her broke the silence.

"Welcome to Hell," she said, with no amount of irony in her voice.