"You got a weird phone call?" Robert asked, concern lacing his voice. He sat at the kitchen table, watching Keeley mix cookie dough.

She sighed, pouring in chocolate chips and continuing to stir.

"Yeah. I don't understand it. They didn't give a real name—just a code name. It sounded like a kid, though! Like a thirteen-year-old boy whose voice was still cracking. What reason would a thirteen-year-old have to stalk me?"

"I'll get you pepper spray right away," he said seriously. "It might just be a prank, but in case it wasn't…"

After the incident on her birthday, Robert was even more nervous about letting Keeley out of his sight, though he tried to hide it for her sake. They'd never caught the culprits. Could this be related?

She was all he had left. If he lost her, too…

"I know, Dad. I'll be careful. I'll make sure I walk home with other people from now on."

She wasn't sure how she'd manage that, since she got off campus after dark and didn't have any other friends who stayed late, but she would figure something out. Her dorm was less than ten blocks from the library, but in the dark… Great, now she was freaking herself out.

Robert changed the subject. "So, on a happier note, tell me more about school."

"Well, I'm not sure what's new since last week… oh! Valentina introduced me to telenovelas. They're like Spanish soap operas, and the plots are so convoluted you wouldn't believe…"

Keeley described the joys of telenovelas for the next twenty minutes, omitting the part where she'd stayed up all night watching them. She may be an adult, but she still didn't want a lecture from her dad.

As the cookies baked, she sprawled on the couch under a blanket. It was getting colder as November drew to a close.

"By any chance, have you been in contact with your friend Aaron lately?" her father asked nonchalantly.

She sat up instantly, the blanket tangling around her.

"No, why would I? We weren't as close as you think, Dad. We were just desk mates for one quarter. I wouldn't even call us friends."

He frowned. Just a desk mate wouldn't have been so distraught when Keeley had been drugged. He wished he understood their relationship. Something didn't quite make sense. It was almost like there was an invisible wall between them, some sort of secret.

Keeley wasn't the type to keep secrets, though; when she was little, she'd confess the moment she did something wrong, then cry because she felt bad. His baby girl was growing up. She wasn't that innocent, naive little kid anymore.

She was an adult, and he shouldn't be prying, but he felt sorry for the young man. He got the sense that nobody really cared for him, least of all his stubborn daughter.

Keeley's actions toward Aaron, as limited as he'd seen them, were hot and cold. She often acted rudely, but still did nice things, like making him brownies in exchange for scrapbooking supplies and calling him so he'd have a few graduation pictures, even though no one else came.

He sensed that, deep down, she did care. Why she wouldn't show it to someone who obviously valued her was the real mystery.

"Hmm, that's not the feeling I got. He probably misses you. You should give him a call."

"Dad! We aren't like that. I don't even have his number anymore," she said, annoyed.

What was her dad's deal with Aaron? Why did he always seem to take his side? Aaron was a thing of the past! Sure, he still crept into her thoughts occasionally, but that wasn't her fault! Memories just pop up sometimes. She had a lot of them with him.

"That's a shame. I get the feeling he doesn't have a lot of friends," Robert sighed.

Her annoyance grew.

"That's because he doesn't want them. Aaron doesn't feel human emotions the way normal people do. He uses people who can benefit him, and that's it. He's like a little business robot programmed by his dad."

"You know his father?" Oops. She wasn't supposed to say that.

"He mentioned something about it once," she lied. "His father has been training him to be his successor since he was a toddler. Dad, he reads magazines like Time and Forbes for fun! That's not normal."

He eyed her sternly. "I think you should cut the poor kid some slack."

"Why are we even talking about this?" she cried in confusion. "You don't care about anyone else I knew in high school! You never ask about Jeffrey or Lydia—they're both doing great, by the way. Why does Aaron matter?"

"I told you, I feel sorry for him."

"Is that enough reason to give me a hard time about it, though?!"

"Yes."

Keeley blew out a frustrated breath. "You're being unfair. You wouldn't be so nice to him if you knew what he was really like. You're biased because he's only ever acted polite toward you. I'm trying to forget I ever knew him. Can't you respect my decision?"

"Why?" he asked simply.

"There's too much to possibly tell!" He wouldn't believe her. Aaron practically killed him! He's the reason the Halls were wiped out! He never treated her nicely, respected her opinions, or showed any real warmth. There wasn't a single decent thing about his personality.

Keeley crossed her arms irately. "Why don't you believe me?"

"Whatever you've seen… I think he genuinely cares about you. Just be nice to him if he talks to you again, okay?" Robert finished, then snitched some cookie dough from the bowl.

"No cookie dough for you," she muttered, pulling the bowl out of his reach.

He had no idea what he was talking about. Besides, why on earth would Aaron talk to her again? They were nothing to each other. That chapter of her life was over, and she had no intention of going back. Things were much better without him! She was able to live her life freely, the way she always wanted to! Who needed him?

The final two lines ("Search the NovelFire.net") were removed as they are promotional material unrelated to the story.