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too?”
    Abby
felt uneasy he could make a joke so easily about such a tragic event. “It
doesn't matter.” She shrugged listlessly.
    They
were nearing Winchester Bay. Abby was aching to get out of the truck, away from
Craig and his questions. But most assuredly, away from his assessing eyes.
    “Abby,
you don't really believe any of that do you?” His tone changed. He slowed the vehicle
down, almost to a stop, as he looked over at her.
    “All
of America does.” Her laugh was brittle as she held her hands up slightly, as
if to say she couldn't disagree.
    “Abby,
it's not your fault. You know that, don't you?” Craig tried to meet her eyes
but Abby refused to look directly at him.
    “If
not mine, then whose?” she tested.
    Craig
was stunned by her reaction. In the article he had read, very briefly, it
detailed how Abby experienced a nervous breakdown after the explosion. Since
being released from a mental hospital, she had disappeared without a trace. He
had assumed it was to hide out from the press, but now, as he watched another tear
meander down her cheek, he realized it was because she believed everything they
said. When he pulled into a parking space beside the marina, she practically
fell out of the passenger door in her haste. He opened the back, ready to carry
her groceries in for her, but she refused.
     
    “Please,”
she said, too ashamed to look at him, “I need some time by myself.”She cleared her throat and then added quickly,
“Thank you for driving me.” After taking the groceries from his hands, Abby
hurried off to her uncle's boat. She could feel Craig’s gaze trailing after her;its subtle caress clung to her back.
     
    As
soon as the door closed behind her, Abby abandoned her groceries and began
pacing the length of the little floating house. The urge to get on a plane and
fly as far as she could was strong. But, there would be no place she could go.
The truth was her patient committed a heinous crime. The world needed someone
to blame, and she happened to be it. Abby joined them, blaming herself as well,
which made evading the situation even harder.
     
    She
picked up her phone, prepared to book a ticket on the next flight out of town,
when she noticed the bottle of wine Craig had selected for her, peeking out of
the top of her grocery bag.The memory of
his kindness calmed her raging emotions, and she put the phone down. Maybe I
just need to relax tonight and see how I feel in the morning? The sun was
setting and the marina was quiet, but for the lapping of the water against the
boat. It was her time, her space, her refuge... for now. There weren't a dozen
media vans surrounding her, as there would potentially be if she went to the
airport.
     
    * * *

    Abby
saw Bill a few weeks ahead of schedule, as per his request. She had no idea
what she was walking into. He was particularly distraught and tense. His brow
was furrowed over squinted eyes as he restlessly paced around her office.
    “They’re calling me a hero. They want to give me a medal. And for what?
Senseless slaughter?” His tone was angry. “Will this nightmare ever be over?”

Abby tried to calm him; assure him that this too would pass. It was a
patronizing part of the political process... renewing society’s hope the cause
was honorable. But as it turned out, that really wasn’t what had upset Bill the
most.
    “They came to offer me a job today, but I turned them down,” Bill revealed.
    Abby knew he had been between jobs and really wanted something steady soon. It
concerned her he declined an opportunity.
    “What? A job? Who offered you a job?” she probed for more details. “And you
turned it down?”

Bill tried to regain some composure. He leaned against her mahogany librarian
desk, looking down. He took a deep breath in and slowly released it, blowing
air out through pursed lips. His head dropped with a negative shake. A few
seconds passed before he took in another deep breath, then looked up at Abby
and spoke.
    “I