"I'm calling the police," she shouted at the media.

"First-amendment rights, lady," one of the young reporters shouted at her.

"Fuck you!" Tiff yelled back as she hustled her kids safely inside.

Shortly afterwards the police arrived and set up barricades, behind which they moved the reporters and their trucks. The trucks were still there in the morning. One of the uniformed cops came to the Johnsons' kitchen door. He suggested that using the backyard might be a good way for Nora to get into her house without being annoyed. The barricades were removed to allow the residents out to go to their jobs, then put back. The police van departed shortly after eleven a.m. One cop remained on guard.

Carla was watching. "They're eating sandwiches and talking," she said. "I think we can get you home if you want to go."

"I want to go," Nora told her.

"I'll have to shop for you," Carla said. "I doubt there's anything in the house you can eat. Heidi didn't cook. They always had takeout."

"Jeff never wanted takeout," Nora noted.

"Heidi told me she didn't cook," Carla answered. "I guess she had other talents."

"She must have liked working alone," Nora remarked cattily, and Carla laughed.

Carla's cell rang. "It's Dr. Sam," she said. "Hi, Doc! What? Okay. Nora's going home now. We're sneaking through the backyard. I'll tell her. Bye." She turned to Nora. "Dr. Sam says the newspeople have Shorecrest staked out. They don't know you were released yesterday, and of course Shorecrest isn't going to give them any information. They're outside our street because they're waiting for you to come home."

"Let's sneak through the backyard, then," Nora said.

Getting their coats, the two women exited the back door of the Johnson house and ran quickly across the lawn. There was a large privet hedge between their homes. Their kids had worn a passage through the hedge over the years. They slipped through it, and removing her key from her pocket, Carla opened the kitchen door to the Buckley house. Entering quickly, they closed and locked the door behind them.

Nora looked about her, and smiled with pleasure. She was home. Removing her coat, she laid it aside and went to the fridge, opening it and looking in. There was a container of plain, fat-free yogurt, an open quart container of milk, and everything that had been in the fridge eight weeks ago. She laughed. "She was no housekeeper, poor Heidi," Nora remarked. "I'll spend all afternoon cleaning up this mess. If only J. J. needed a science fair project, we could do the wonderful world of mold. I'm just going to toss everything. The plastic containers will have absorbed the smell after this long. Who doesn't empty out a fridge of ancient food?"

"Will you be alright?" Carla asked.

"I'm fine," Nora assured her.

"Then I'll go do the shopping. Anything other than the basic supplies to get you through until the reporters go away?" Carla inquired.

"Get me one of those rotisserie chickens the market does. And a box of Mallomars," Nora told her with a grin. "I can survive on chicken and cookies."

"I'm glad you haven't changed entirely," Carla replied.

"Have I changed? Really?" Nora was surprised.

"Oh, yes. You're more assured, stronger now. I guess what I'm saying is that you're no longer a victim, Nora. You fought Jeff, and you've won." Carla buttoned her jacket as she spoke.

"I never meant for Heidi to be hurt," Nora said quickly.

"I know you didn't," Carla answered her, and then blowing a kiss to her friend, she went out the kitchen door.

Nora picked up her own coat and went to the hall closet to hang it up. Returning to the kitchen, she got out a large black lawn-leaf bag, and dumped the contents of the fridge into it, pouring the milk down the sink, washing the yogurt away. There was only one glass casserole in the fridge. She scraped the contents of it into the black bag and washed the dish by hand, noting that the dishwasher was full of clean dishes. She put everything away and cleaned the sink. She wiped down the walls and glass shelves of the empty fridge. Then she went upstairs.

The unmade bed showed signs of one occupant. They were the same sheets she had put on the bed clean on New Year's Day. Jeff's pajamas were on the floor. She picked them up and, going into the hall, threw them down the stairs. They would go in the black bag with the rest of the garbage. She opened her walk-in closet. Her clothing was gone, and in its place hung two pairs of trendy jeans, a pair of flannel slacks, two wool sweaters, and a silk shirt. Pulling the clothes from their hangers, Nora threw them down the stairs as well.

She pulled the sheets from the bed. She was going to get a new bed. In fact she was going to redo the whole bedroom. She had always hated the decor in this room, but Jeff had liked it. The headboard was even similar to the one his parents had. She considered what she would change it to, but she was too distracted right now by the fact her husband had been screwing another woman in the bed in which he had conceived children with his wife. "Bastard!" She wasn't going to sleep in this room until it was redone. She'd use the guest room.

"Where are you?" Carla's voice called.

"Upstairs," Nora said.

Carla's footsteps sounded, and then she came into the bedroom. "What are you doing, and what's all that stuff at the bottom of the stairs?"

"Garbage," Nora replied. "I'm moving into the guest room until I can redo this room. Where are my clothes?"

"Jeff had them packed up and put in the cellar," Carla answered. "I'll get the guys to bring them up this weekend. I got the groceries. They're in the kitchen. The reporters are still outside the street. When I went out they yelled questions at me. I just shrugged. Listen, Nora, if they don't go by evening, and you have the lights on in here, they're going to know you're back. I wouldn't put anything past them to get a picture or a story from you."

"I can live with just the television," Nora murmured.

"They could see the flickering from the outside," Carla responded.

"Tell Rick to issue a statement to the press that I will grant them a half hour tomorrow morning at eleven, and I'll answer questions. But this is on the condition that they leave with their trucks now. And Carla, my windows will be dark tonight. You know the den has those heavy short draperies with the lining. I'll draw them as soon as I go downstairs again."

"You're going to access The Channel? Nora, the cable operator might give that information out to make a few bucks if you call. Then they'll know you're home," Carla fretted. "What if someone tries to jump the gun and get an exclusive?"

"I think I can handle it," Nora replied quietly.

"I'll go call Rick," Carla said. "Do you want me to come back?"

Nora shook her head in the negative. "I think we're safer if you don't."

Carla shoved a cell phone at Nora. "Take it. I picked it up at the market. It's one of those ones with the prepaid minutes. You've got one hundred twenty. It's safer just in case someone is listening in on your line. And don't answer your house phone, Nora. I'll call the kids and your mom, and give them the cell's number, okay?"

"You're make this sound like a covert operation," Nora laughed.

"It is," Carla said, grinning. Then she hugged Nora. "God, it's good to have you back, and to know you're safe!"

"Rick still has to reason with Jeff, and Jeff isn't going to be reasonable in jail," Nora reminded her friend. "Now scoot, and leave me to finish cleaning up my house."

Carla departed, and then called Nora once on her cell to tell her she had gotten in touch with Margo, J. J., and Jill, and given them the cell's number. Then she had called Rick, and Rick had issued the statement. The media people and their trucks were now gone from the head of Ansley Court, but the cop and the barricade was still there just to ensure everyone's privacy for the interim. "Need anything else tonight?" Carla asked. "I mean that I could give you."

Nora could imagine her grinning. "Nope. I'm fine," she replied. She had cleaned out the master bathroom, but she wasn't going to use it. She found a fresh tube of toothpaste, a new toothbrush, and her own hairbrush. She put them in the guest bath. Until the master bath was cleaned thoroughly and redecorated, she wasn't going in it. In fact she was going to gut this bathroom and put in all new fixtures.

It was getting dark now. Nora heard the clock in the foyer striking six p.m. She hurried downstairs, carved some chicken off the rotisserie bird Carla had brought, fixed a salad with some of the greens now in the clean fridge, made some iced tea, and sat down to eat. She wasn't interested in the local news. She didn't give a damn who did what to whom overseas. The world was crazy now. All she wanted to do was survive the madness, and she had her escape in The Channel. She picked up her cell and dialed the cable company, ordering The Channel for the evening. The operator seemed neutral, and uninterested in who she was. She had never considered it before, but she now suspected that the operators taking calls for Suburban Cable were located somewhere else. They didn't know her or the scandal now surrounding Ansley Court. She finished her meal, and put her dishes in the dishwasher. She hadn't had to turn on any lights, and in the den the curtains were drawn tightly. Nora went into her laundry room and, taking a few clothespins, returned to the den and clipped the draperies shut where they just might allow a crack of light through.

She plunked herself in Jeff's recliner. It was like new because he had hardly sat in it. The mantel clock struck eight. Nora turned on the television and waited. And then her penthouse living room appeared. Eagerly she put her hand on the screen, and was there. "Kyle!" she called.