I checked my messages from a pay phone, not wanting to return to the scene of the crime. Betsy had called several times and I could tell she was frantic, hearing that Shirley and Fran had gotten married. What she wanted me to do about it, I didn’t know-- considering the thought of Betsy turned my stomach.

Greg called, just to check up on me. And the bank called asking me to come down and sign some papers regarding Steve’s estate. I wondered if they wanted to know about the evil in his eye as he shoved himself into my mouth or as he held a gun to Greg’s head.

I wondered where Steve was at this very moment, his cold blue eyes looking for another victim.

My heart shuddered at the thought that he was even still alive.

On the way to the bank I thought about my life, how I started off in the slums and how I was such an asshole punk kid; now trying so hard to live a normal life. There comes a time when you accept the fact that you have no control and you have to deal with what you’ve been given. Take the opportunity and go. And go, I thought, and go.

Margaret was the bank lawyer’s name. She was black and overwhelmingly nice. Never in my life had bank personnel been so kind to me since I became in charge of Steve’s money. I sat across from her and wondered if she had ever been raped before. They say one in four women, so the odds were good. She looked concerned and I asked her if there was anything wrong.

“Not exactly, it’s just that under the circumstances, with Steve’s disappearance and that he’s not under a doctor’s care or in a sanitarium, I am required to tell you that some things change under the Will agreement.”

“What? That all the money goes to the State-- because that would just figure into my life right now.”

“No, the money becomes yours solely.”

“Excuse me?”

“It’s quite clear that Hillary felt because of the sacrifice you made and the commitment which you have kept to, and suffered by I might add, that if Steve did not live up to Hillary’s expectations which was to continue treatment, you would inherit all the money.”

“All of it? I have complete control over ALL of it, that’s what you’re saying? I can do whatever I want with it without having to beg for twenty different signatures?”

“That’s right, do you know what you’d like to do? We would like to service you in anyway possible.”

“I bet you would. I know exactly what I’d like to do. I want you to transfer it to a Swiss bank account with my name alone on it.”

“Sir, we could help you invest your money to a great advantage. I know we could make a lot of money for you.”

“Just do it. I’ll call back tomorrow for all the account information.”

I left thinking of no one but myself, planning where I would go. Perhaps one day I would come back, but it would be a day I could look my friends in the eye and face myself in the mirror without grimacing.