Till Jail Do We Part

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  "Trust your heart if the seas catch fire, live by love though the stars walk backward." ~E.E. Cummings

~**~~**~

Jack was good under pressure, V.C. decided.

He hadn't cracked or been flustered as she thought he would have been.

But instead of flopping, he had spit out some brilliant tale about always wanting a family. Since there were so many children in the world without parents, he and his wife had decided to adopt a child first.

Not because they weren't capable of having a baby on their own.

He had been very clear that there wasn't any problem with his...skills. But the two of them wanted to give a child a family first.

V.C. had to hand it to him, she would never have been able to fake such a confession. She wasn't a 'kid person'.

In fact, she wasn't even an 'adult person'.

Most of the time, she had to fake it. And luckily for her, no one ever seemed to notice her misanthrope behavior.

Except for Jack.

Nothing got past him. Ever.

It was becoming increasingly annoying the more she hung around him. It was like he always knew what she was going to do next.

Uncanny.

Anyway, after Jack's surprising and tear wrenching performance, there had been an interlude. It was then V.C. excused herself to the bathroom.

And it was the unfortunate occurrence she happened to get lost en route, finding herself in a private office, far away from the bathrooms.

By accident of course.

Because breaking and entering were illegal.

V.C. quietly closed the door behind her with a click of the knob. Inside was a cozy space, a mahogany desk was centered in front of a large window, which ran from floor to ceiling.
On the far wall, bookcases lined with law books stood side by side. A set of comfortable chairs were placed in front of the desk, close together.

Probably for consultations

Diplomas were fixed to the wall, one after another, the frames big and glamorous, showing the owner's accomplishments. After taking in the name on them, V.C. was convinced she had the right office.

Further along, pictures of babies and their adoptive families were shown. There had to be a least 50 photos.

I guess the adoption business is going well. . .

Rounding the desk, V.C. took a seat at the leather-backed chair in front of the desk. Papers covered every inch, but they were stacked into neat rectangular piles. But everything was organized, down to the last paper clip. Pamphlets on adoption were on the far corner, under a silver engraved nameplate.

Everything was in its place and everything had a place.  

One of those fake fishing lures was hanging haphazardly from the desk lamp. Judging by the elk head and mounted fish that decorated the wall, V.C. guessed the owner of the office was an avid outdoorsman.

Flipping open the laptop on the desk, V.C. pulled out the flash drive Pager had given her the day before.

But then the door swung open with a creak, causing V.C. to feel her heart leap in fright. But when she saw the familiar furrowed brow and glint of a silver wedding band, she told her heart to relax.

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