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“I’ll be honest, I do regret it a bit, but…” she trailed off, turning away from her punching bag and unwrapping the bandages around her hands. Seeing that she wouldn’t continue, Noah punched the bag, sending it swinging back.“This about Bella?”

“Don’t be sorry. He is a huge dick, and not in a good way. He also has enough money to pay for our house and generous child support, so I am good.” We pulled into her driveway. A modest split-level home in a nice neighborhood. Good place for kids to play. Mrs. B hit the button on the garage door opener and closed it behind us before I could get out of the car. “Nosy neighbors,” she said to no one in particular.

“You can thank Shannon for that. She has some kind of miracle gift when it comes to teas and soups. I can’t explain it; she gets the flavoring exactly right every single time.” Sophia giggled and continued drinking. Down the hall, Shannon, who was doing her best not to eavesdrop, blushed and smiled with her ears twitching happily. “As for what you should do, I’d say you’re on the right path already. Like you said before, your literature program has no future without Cyrilo, or you for that matter, so if either of you are imprisoned or executed, your dream of changing the world dies. You truly can help people by bringing about the Age of Information. Don’t throw that away to alleviate your guilt.