CHAPTER TWELVE

Thank God it was Saturday, Sanika thought, lying face down on the bed. She couldn't imagine how it would have been if she had to go to work after a day -- and a night -- like that. She and Runal had been allowed into the ICU separately for five minutes. She could barely recognize Shruti in there, hooked up to all those tubes, lying on the bed, looking so... still. Almost lifeless. The constant beep from the monitor had assured her that her friend's heart was beating. For now.

The ICU had its own particular horror -- the mechanical rhythm of it, the way human suffering was reduced to numbers on a screen. Heart rate: 68. Blood pressure: 110/70. Oxygen saturation: 96%. As if Shruti -- brilliant, warm, stubborn Shruti who wrote love letters to a man who didn't deserve them and made the best chai in three postcodes and could sell ice to an Eskimo because she believed in what she was selling -- could be captured in a few digits flickering on a monitor. The tube in her throat made her look like a marionette whose strings had been cut. Her skin was the colour of old parchment, her lips cracked and colourless, and the surgical dressing on her abdomen was thick and white and obscene against the fragile brown of her skin.

Sanika had stood beside the bed for her allotted five minutes and held Shruti's hand -- cold, limp, not squeezing back -- and talked to her in a low, steady voice about nothing at all. About the weather. About a new Thai place that had opened in Koregaon Park. About the fact that Mira would have been absolutely furious at Shruti for getting herself stabbed without having the courtesy to get stabbed somewhere photogenic. She talked because the alternative was silence, and silence in an ICU sounds like the space between heartbeats -- the terrifying gap where anything could happen and nothing could be undone.

No. Sanika immediately rejected the notion. Shratz would pull through. She had to. The universe did not get to take both of them. That was not a deal Sanika was willing to make with any deity, any fate, any cosmic arithmetic. One was already too many. Two was not an option.

She had been there the whole night and most of the morning, talking to Runal, each helping the other in staying positive. Something had shifted between them in that waiting room -- something quiet and permanent. They had started the night as strangers yoked together by circumstance and a shared woman, and by dawn they were something closer to friends. Not the kind of friends who socialise or share jokes, but the kind who have seen each other at their worst and decided not to look away. Runal had told her about the perfume on the shirt -- not as a confession but as a statement of fact, the way you report damage after a storm. I was losing her, he said, staring at the floor. I was losing her and I was too stupid to notice until someone tried to take her permanently. Sanika had not offered absolution or condemnation. She had simply handed him the coffee and said, Then don't lose her again.

But even as she said it, something about Runal's transformation had nagged at her. It wasn't the devotion -- that was real enough, raw enough. It was the way it manifested. He had taken Shruti's phone from her bag and charged it, then kept it with him "in case the hospital calls." He had intercepted the nurse who came to update them, positioning himself between the nurse and the waiting room as if Sanika couldn't be trusted with medical information about her own best friend. When Shruti's colleague from Prisma had called to ask about visiting hours, Runal had answered Shruti's phone and told them she wasn't taking visitors yet -- a decision that wasn't his to make. Small things. Things that could be explained away by shock, by love, by a man desperately trying to hold together what was falling apart. But Sanika had watched three fiancés carefully enough to know the difference between a man who protects you and a man who controls the narrative. She filed the observation away without comment. There would be time for that conversation later, when Shruti was well enough to have it.

But by eleven in the morning Sanika had started feeling claustrophobic. The walls were closing in on her. A part of her wanted to stomp her feet and scream like a tantrum-throwing five-year-old that she wanted to go home. And the relief when she spotted Samar walking towards them had been staggering. He hadn't said anything about the case other than that they were investigating. After promising Runal that she would be back later in the day, she had gratefully slumped behind Samar on the bike and got home. A long, hot shower, a steaming cup of hot coffee and being force-fed two sandwiches by Samar the Relentless, later, here she was. Literally fallen face down on the bed. She didn't have the energy to talk or even think.

After giving her a long, intense look that made her feel like a bug under a microscope, he left her alone with a brisk, "I'll be in the hall if you need anything."

She inhaled deeply and exhaled slowly, repeating the process, willing her body and mind to relax. Her eyes slowly drifted shut. Blissful oblivion enveloped her.

Until she felt the wetness on her palms and lifted them to see. Blood! Scared, she tried to scream only to realize someone had gagged her mouth. Oh God! She was tied up and someone was coming to kill her. She could hear the sound of boots on the tiled floor. Mira! Shruti! Where were they? She had to warn them. Samar! Her phone was lying beside her and it was buzzing. It was Samar. She had to tell him. Hands and legs were tied but she tried turning on to her side and dragging herself towards it, squirming uselessly to at least release one of her hands. The phone stopped ringing only to start again. Samar. Something touched her back. She rolled and found herself staring into Mira's sightless gaze, her head caved in from behind. She tried to scream. There was another body sprawled a little distance away. She tried to scream again. No. Not Shruti. No. She didn't want to die. She felt hands gripping her arms, pulling her. She didn't want to die. Samar! Help!

"Sanika! Jaanu! Uth!" Sanika! Sweetheart! Wake up! Firm hands cupped her face and shook her. "I'm right here Sanika! Wake up! Open your eyes Jaanu! Look at me."

With a startled gasp, she opened her eyes, her terror-filled ones meeting his determined ones. "That's it. Look at me. I'm right here. It's not real. You're having a dream Jaanu. Just a dream." The grip on his t-shirt tightened even as the horror started to fade from her mind.

"I..." She swallowed, tears leaking out of her eyes, her body wracked with tremors. "I don't want to die. I don't..."

"Shhh... Gappa band kar." Shut up! "You are not going to die. Not as long as there is breath in my body."

"D-don't let me go," she pleaded, hiding her face in his neck. Later, when she was back to her rational, cynical self, she would probably cringe at the memory but in that moment, she didn't care.

"Not in this lifetime Jaanu. Main tumhe kabhi jaane nahi dunga," he promised, pulling her deeper into his arms, surrounding her. Not in this lifetime sweetheart. I will never let you go. He pulled her back enough to look into her eyes. "It was just a dream. OK?" She nodded, her pulse slowly returning to normal. "I knew this would happen. That's why I waited for you to talk about it." His lips tilted into a half smile. "But you are one independent hussy, refusing to accept that you're scared."

That got a little of her spirit back. Her spine stiffened. "I wasn't scared." As his smile threatened to turn into a grin, she glared. But the effect was spoiled by her still-wet eyes. "I wasn't," she stressed. "I was just..." her voice trailed off as his proximity registered to her senses. "Scared," she whispered.

Samar had been sitting at the dining table, going through the Prisma files on the laptop when he had heard her scream his name. He had been in her room before her first scream died. Judging by the way she thrashed around, it must have been one hell of a nightmare. And it wasn't even night. It was in the middle of the afternoon. When she was alert and awake, the sharpness of her tongue and the cool intelligence in those bottomless bedroom eyes of hers took most of his attention. Most, but not all, he thought wryly. Right now she was soft and shaking and clinging to him, her baby pink t-shirt rucked up to just below her breasts, exposing the smooth, warm skin of her midriff. One of his knees had ended up wedged between her thighs when he'd pulled her out of the nightmare, and her capri-covered legs were tangled with his. Her arms were locked around his neck, her face pressed into the hollow of his throat, and with every shuddering breath she took, her chest rose and fell against his. He could feel the soft press of her breasts through the thin cotton, could feel the heat of her skin where his palm rested on her bare waist, and every muscle in his body was straining with the effort of not pulling her closer, not tipping her chin up, not doing what he had been wanting to do since the first morning she'd glared at him over the fence about his bike.

She was all softly feminine and curvy but there was a layer of steel just beneath the surface that turned him on like nothing else. She was just perfect. Perfect for him. And she was in his arms, and her lips were right there, parted and trembling, and it was taking every ounce of his willpower not to close the distance.

"Are you alright now?" he asked, his voice a bare rumble. A rumble that came from deep in his chest and vibrated through her body where they were pressed together.

"Yes," she said, not thinking about it, lost in his eyes. Dark, intense, burning with something that had nothing to do with concern and everything to do with wanting.

He didn't hesitate. Didn't give her time to think about it, to build her walls back up, to retreat behind that sharp tongue and those sharper defences. He slanted his mouth over hers and kissed her.

There was nothing tentative about it. Nothing gentle. Nothing polite. He kissed her like a man who'd been starving and had just been given permission to feast. His mouth was hard and demanding, his lips forcing hers apart, and when his tongue drove inside she tasted coffee and something darker, something that was purely him. His moustache scraped against her upper lip and her chin, rough and ticklish and unbearably erotic, and the sensation sent goosebumps racing down her neck, her arms, her breasts, tightening her nipples into hard, aching peaks beneath her thin shirt.

She made a sound -- a whimper, a moan, something shamefully needy that she'd never made before in her life -- and her fingers clenched in his hair, pulling him harder against her mouth. He responded by catching her chin with one hand, tilting her head to deepen the kiss, his tongue sweeping against hers with blatant, possessive demand. His other hand tightened on her waist, fingers digging into the soft skin, then sliding lower to grip her hip, pulling her body flush against his.

She felt him. All of him. Hard and thick against her thigh, straining through the fabric of his trousers, and the evidence of how much he wanted her sent a flood of liquid heat between her legs. Her hips moved against him -- involuntary, instinctive -- and the friction drew a groan from deep in his chest that she felt reverberate through her entire body.

Never before had she been wanted like that. So swiftly, so violently, so completely. Her second fiance had kissed her -- timid, closed-mouth pecks that tasted of paan and obligation. Those were nothing. Less than nothing. This was a man consuming her, claiming her with his mouth, his hands, his body, and every cell in her was screaming yes, more, don't stop. She pressed herself harder against him, feeling the rigid length of him against her hip, and she wanted -- God, she wanted -- with a desperation that terrified her.

His hand slid up from her hip, his thumb tracing the curve of her waist, rising higher, and when his palm grazed the underside of her breast through the cotton she arched into his touch with a gasp. He paused there -- right there, his thumb a centimetre from her nipple, hovering on the edge of a line they couldn't uncross -- and the restraint in that pause, the iron control it took to stop, was the sexiest thing she had ever experienced in her life.

God I love him, Sanika thought dimly, not having the strength to deny that emotion in that moment. Not when her body was on fire and her underwear was soaked and his mouth was still devouring hers and his hand was trembling with the effort of not moving that final inch.

"I... you... we..." The ringing of her phone saved her from bumbling further -- and possibly from doing something that would have made the afternoon infinitely more complicated. Both of them tensed up. She glanced at the caller ID and breathed out. "It's my brother." She answered, trying to inject cheer into her voice. "Hi dada."

"I should've turned you over my knee when you were younger Choti! How could you hide something like this from me?"

"How... I mean... what?" Confusion started to replace the numbness.

"And I would still be in the dark if that Samar Rane hadn't called."

Confusion turned to fury as Sanika processed her brother's words. "Samar called? When?"

"While you were napping," Samar replied calmly. He had taken Captain Saket Joshi's number the previous night when he had dropped her at the hospital but didn't get a chance to talk until this afternoon.

"Which you should've done the minute all this started," Saket interrupted from the other end.

"It's not--"

"Not what Choti? Big deal? Someone makes death threats on my sister, kills one of her friends and tries to kill another..." The sound of his fist connecting something solid could be heard clearly. "How could you hide something like this? I'm calling mom and dad now."

Sanika waited until Samar was out of the room. "That's precisely why I didn't tell. I don't want them to know. They've gone for a vacation. The stress of my broken engagements was getting to dad. You know it."

"Y? ?pan?ra d??a na?a!" he bellowed. That is not your fault!

"Yeah, well, I still feel responsible, thika ?ch??" she screamed back. OK? "Listen dada, you can't tell them. It's my life, my decision," she said in a reasonably calm voice.

"The hell you say," he growled.

"Even if they do come, there is nothing here they can do. They would want me to quit the job, go away somewhere..."

"Which wouldn't be a bad idea," he said reluctantly. Sanika Joshi wasn't a coward and her brother knew it. Running wasn't her style. And being a soldier, it wasn't his either.

"You know better than to suggest something like that dada. Once all this is resolved, I will definitely look for a new job. But not yet. Not when the bastard who killed my friend is still out there. If I leave now, he might get away with it and I can't let it happen. It's as bad as me asking you to run away in the middle of a fight out there." Inhaling deeply, she continued, "Am I scared? Yes. Am I ready to run? Hell no."

Samar exchanged the phone in her hand with a steaming mug of tea. She looked up to find another cup in his hand. "I'm out of tea powder."

"That's why I got it from my house and yes, I added the extra spoon of sugar. Now drink." To Saket, he said, "Saket, Samar here. We are investigating everyone at Prisma. But in the meanwhile I need someone I can completely trust to be with Sanika at all times. That was another reason I called you."

"What was the first reason?" Sanika asked. She was pissed off because she couldn't be pissed off at him for trying to protect her. For thinking of her family. And making the tea just the way she liked it. Apparently nothing escaped those cop eyes.

He sighed and put the phone on speaker. "A crank call, or even a threatening call is one thing. This is something else entirely. Your family must be kept in the loop. At least one of them."

"I'm liking him more by the minute," her brother inserted. Dammit! She was arguing with two males. Two overprotective males.

"But you said--"

Slamming his tea cup on the table, he rounded on her. "Don't you get it Sanika Joshi? It might just as easily have been you instead of Shruti. Yesterday I had come to pick you up at the exact same spot. You had come walking out of the building just as Shruti had. I don't know if the bastard is following some shitty chronological order of his own or Shruti was a victim of opportunity. Either way, you're the only one left. He sure as hell will know about Shruti by Monday morning and this is Saturday evening."

"Couldn't you have--"

Again she wasn't given a chance to complete her sentence. "I need to solve this. I need to solve this yesterday and once your brother gets here, he will be your shadow at work while I do the hunting. He will drive you to work, stay there and bring you back. None of these points are up for negotiation." He paused before asking Saket. "So, is it possible for you to come that fast?"

"I have talked to my CO. I'll be there as soon as I can. I had already applied leave from next week on because I wanted to be there when my parents come back from the US so I might be able to push it a little forward if I explain the circumstances."

"Then I need you to do it."

"Consider it done."

"Great, fine. This involves me but you guys just go ahead and ignore me," Sanika snapped at both the men.

Samar held back his grin. "I spoke to Sanika's CEO. He'll have the visitor pass and security clearance ready for you once you get here," he said to Saket. "You can stay at Prisma with Sanika until this case is solved."

"Samar, thank you for calling me."

"No thanks required."

"I'll let you know when I'll be landing. Choti?"

Taking the hint, Samar returned the phone to her and left the room, closing the door firmly behind him. "Dada, I'm sorry, I know I should've told you. Trust me dada, after... after Shruti... after last night, I was going to call you."

"Has he left the room?" Saket asked in a quiet voice.

"Yes."

"What's going on between you two?"

"W-what? Nothing is going on. Dada! Come on! He is our neighbour, a cop and..."

"And he also knows that you have run out of tea and that you like it sweet." He exhaled. "Listen, we'll talk about this later. For now, until I get there, you take care of yourself. OK? Don't take any chances. Tumi ki bujhat? p?r?ch??" Do you understand? "I'll be there as soon as I can." Sanika could hear him fight for control. "Dammit Choti! How did you land yourself in this mess?" he gritted out.

"It was not my fault so don't you dare say that!" she screeched, before dashing away the tear that dared to escape from one eye. "I didn't do anything w-wrong, you hear me? None of us d-did anything wrong."

The shock of hearing his sister hiccup as she strove to control her tears, held him silent for a few moments. "Sanika, hey, sis, come on now. Of course it's not your fault."

"Don't patronize me!" she yelled. "And I'm not crying. I never cry."

If anything, Saket softened his tone even more. "I'm not patronizing and I know you never cry. You are my brave sister. I watched that video. It's naughty, even a little raunchy but as Samar rightly pointed out, we've seen far worse things online without blinking an eye. It's no one's fault except the creep who has targeted you. Don't let anyone say anything different. Now, have that tea and I'll see you soon."

"Love you dada. Runal Hind."

That drew a pleased laugh from him. "Runal Hind."

Her good mood lasted until the phone rang again. Gesturing to Samar she answered the call from another unfamiliar number. "Yes?"

She heard the same ghostly voice. "Two down, one to go-o-o. Two down, one to go-o-o."

Even knowing it was futile, Samar dispatched a team to the location from where the latest call had originated. She watched him clench his jaw, the tendons in his neck rigid with barely suppressed rage. The call had been made from another PCO. Untraceable.

"He's taunting us," Sanika said flatly.

"She," Samar corrected quietly, almost to himself. But the thought hadn't fully formed yet. It was just a whisper in the back of his mind, a nagging inconsistency that he couldn't quite grasp.

---

The killer was seething.

The bitch had survived. The knife had gone deep enough -- of that there was no doubt. Even with the rain and the time shortage, the memory of it digging into her organs was vivid. And how did the car stop before running over her head? That was just not possible. Her skull should have crushed under the wheel. Eyes glittered at the image that thought provoked. Yes. That was what should have happened. But it didn't. Why? Why?

Two down...* the humming seized as abruptly as it had begun. *One down, two to go-o-o. One down, two to go-o-o.* No. The previous one had a better tune. *Two down, one to go-o-o.

Fury and hatred was flooding and spreading. Something had to be done. But what? What? Take an off. Yes. That would give a chance to be in the vicinity of Sanika without the responsibilities of work hampering every step. Half of the day was already wasted. Never mind. There was still half a day left.

---

It was six thirty on Monday evening when Samar leaned on his bike just inside the Prisma main gate and looked casually around, not letting his gaze rest on anyone in particular but noting every face and matching them with the names and corresponding photographs in the Prisma database. He had what the experts call a photographic memory. A voluptuous woman, her breasts all but spilling out of her skin-tight top, slowed down when she spotted him. He ignored her interested glances and flirtatious smile as she strolled by him. For all her lack of subtlety, she was no fool. Scanning twice at his impassive face, she turned and walked away without a backward glance.

His gaze swept the surroundings once again and he went still when he spotted Sanika walking out of the building along with another woman. He straightened and with his gaze locked on her, the back of his forefinger running over the edge of his moustache, he started walking towards her. He didn't miss the grief flickering in her eyes despite her obvious effort to smile at something her colleague was saying. He dealt with grief on a regular basis. He knew Sanika would recover because the kick-ass spirit wouldn't let her stay down for long, but he also knew it would take weeks or even months before the shadow of pain disappeared from her eyes. Before loss ceased to be debilitating and became a part of her. Before the wound healed and she was left behind with just a scar. And a memory.

"No, really, how are you Sanika?" Pallavi asked.

Sanika tried to smile but it was more of a grimace. "OK. Going on. It hasn't been an easy week na."

"I still can't believe Mira is gone. Her seat in HR is still empty you know. And how is Shruti doing? What's happening yaar! Prisma has seen one death and one major accident in less than a week!"

"Still in the hospital. I think she'll be OK. They stopped the internal bleeding and pumped some more blood into her."

"Hope she comes through," Pallavi said sincerely. "And if you ever need to talk, I'm always here." She turned and her round eyes went rounder. "Holy cow! That your boyfriend?" she asked. Sanika saw Samar. For a moment he looked like a predator. Severe, dangerous, his gaze focused on her like a laser. "Man! What I wouldn't give to have a guy look at me the way he is devouring you. Your man to die for?"

Sanika barely registered Pallavi's question. She wasn't prepared for the sudden impact of sensation, like a punch in the stomach. The element of danger had always been a part of his personality and the full strength of it was blasting her now as his gaze swept down her before locking on her own. She swallowed in an uncharacteristic display of awkwardness. "Hey," she said, trying to appear casual. She tried to look away from him but couldn't. His eyes smiled in response.

After a polite round of introductions and farewells, they walked back towards the bike. "Your guy left?" she asked, referring to the cop who had been assigned to her that morning.

"Yeah, I sent him once I got here. How was your day?"

"Tiring. I was too sleepy to pay attention and boss put me on a wringer. I didn't want to talk about Shruti so I laid low and took it." Once he had his helmet on and started the bike, she hopped behind him, wrapping her arms around his waist, something in her relaxing for the first time that day. She sighed then remembered. "There is a supermarket beside Prisma. I need you to stop there for a minute."

He did stop there but when he got down along with her, she shook her head. "You can wait here. It won't take me more than a minute."

"I think I'll come along," he said in that cop voice of his.

She looked around and decided only bluntness would work with him. "I need to buy sanitary napkins. Do you still want to come along?"

That stopped him short as if he didn't know what to do or say. She grinned. Yeah, bluntness definitely worked. She took two steps into the store before he caught her arm, halting her. "I'll be at the billing counter. I'll see you there in half a minute."

Sanika grabbed a basket and flew through the aisles until she found the right one. She tilted her head up and went on her toes to reach the pack that she wanted. Then spotting a similar one on the lower aisle, she quickly bent and grabbed it when she felt a sudden burst of pain on her lower arm and a body jolting her from the side.

She turned swiftly in that direction and holding on to her bleeding arm, screamed, "Samar!"

And found herself wrapped in his tight bear hug before her scream ended. "Did you see anyone?" he asked, rapidly scanning the surroundings.

---

"Are you sure you didn't see anything else?" Samar asked for the fourth time, pacing in the hall as she sat on the couch back at her home.

"Someone pushed me. When I turned, all I saw was a figure disappearing to the next aisle. Dark grey jacket with a hood. That's all I could get," she repeated for the fourth time, closing her eyes tiredly. It was raining outside again, she thought distractedly. At least she wouldn't have to feel guilty of neglecting her plants. Nature was taking care of them.

To say that she was shaken up was putting it mildly. Tremors had been wracking her body all the way to the hospital where the doctor had given a local anaesthetic before placing four neat stitches on her forearm. She really didn't know what happened. One minute she was picking up her regular brand of sanitary napkins and next was holding on to her bleeding arm while Samar blocked all exits of the supermarket before calling Salim into the scene. Other customers had gathered around, watching the spectacle.

Ruhi had been a surprise. She had rushed forward and held her hand in an effort to stop the bleeding before quickly wrapping her scarf around it. Once Salim entered the scene, he and Samar had conferred with the store manager for a few minutes before the manager led Salim towards the back of the store. Thanking Ruhi, Samar had hustled Sanika to the nearest polyclinic.

Sanika fingered the bandage on her arm. It wasn't hurting. Probably because of whatever the doctor had given her but tomorrow was going to be a real bitch, she thought. She opened her eyes to look at his stern face, flashing eyes and ticking jaw.

"It's not your fault," she said gently.

He got to his feet. "Someone tried to hurt you. I was right there, not twenty feet away when it happened. Don't tell me it's not my fault."

"Considering that you ended up buying those things for me along with the doctor's prescription, I should've just let you come along with me," she mumbled. "Has he been following me? How would he know otherwise? I mean I didn't tell anyone that I would be going there."

He resumed his pacing. "Something is not right. I had an eye out. Didn't notice anyone following us. And even if someone did, it was awfully stupid and extremely bold to attack you in a supermarket with so many people milling about, not to mention the security cameras."

"You think the cameras would've caught anything?"

"I didn't find a camera in that aisle. But I think there are six of them including the ones near the billing counter. Salim is looking at them right now."

Sanika nodded and tried to smile. "Thank you Samar. Some neighbour I've turned out to be, huh! You know when you moved in and used to come in at odd hours on that bike, not allowing me to sleep or do my gardening in peace, I thought you were out on a mission to destroy all my joy. But now looks like..." she shrugged. "You were being the good cop and a neighbour, helping me out a little not realizing what you were getting yourself into--"

"Stop!" he said. It was like the crack of a whip. Crouching down in front of her on his heels, he cupped her face between his hard, calloused palms and looked into her eyes. "I am not being neighbourly so put that thought out of your head Sanika Joshi. I know you are not ready to hear this. I know this is not the time or the place. But I'm going to say it anyway. I have fallen in love with you."

Shock almost felled her. She jerked in his arms but he didn't let go. So she caught and held on to his wrists. "No. I..."

"Shut up and listen to me. I know I'm not the only one. You feel it too but you don't want to acknowledge. You're so sure we don't have a future together that you won't even consider the possibility of one. But get something into your head right now. You think once this case is solved, we'll be back to being just neighbours." He shook his head without taking his eyes away from hers. "Not going to happen. I love you and soon, you will learn to trust me."

Sanika pushed his hands away and got up, fear riding her high. It was one thing to fear for her life. Quite another to fear for her heart. Right now she was in danger of losing one or both. "I-I don't. I don't love you."

"Look at me while you say it and I'll back off," he stated calmly. She tried. She really did. She looked at him and opened her mouth. But the words just wouldn't come.

Point made, he swiped his thumb over the screen. "Salim. Anything?"

"I was just about to call you. You better come."

"Who?"

"Vijay Khandekar, Pravin Patel and Arnab Das."

"All three?"

"Yes. When is her brother scheduled to arrive?"

"His flight landed. He's on his way."

---

End of Chapter Twelve.

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