Deb had practically bounced her way out of Sam’s apartment. The sun was rising and she had a breakfast he’d prepared, the scent of him better than any perfume she’d ever worn.

Even the sandwich tasted like him, which seemed completely corny, she decided as she shoved the food in her mouth. She was glad he hadn’t put ketchup on it, otherwise she’d have covered her coat in the sticky red glop.

But there she was, her hands cold as she thought about the day’s lesson plans. What she would teach, and how she would get her assistant teachers to organize the bright-eyed youngsters. She stopped at a corner, throwing the plastic bag into the appropriate bin, and then practically skipped the rest of the way down the block, thermos of coffee secure in her hand.

Then it was as if time had stopped completely. She could barely step forward; hell, she could barely breathe.

A scene from nightmares she never knew she’d had unfolded in front of her. The beautiful visions she’d had suddenly broke, the dust and tears left behind as she stared at the door of the temple.

The symbol drawn on the door was familiar, seared in her memory, all angry lines and corners. Symbols had power only if you give it to them, people said. But this one had power. Nazis had given it power. History had given it power; a history too soon forgotten in a world where community centers were attacked, when new ways of blaming Jews for everything awful in the world arose daily.

Her tears fell like a waterfall, never ending, barely stopping as she mechanically reached into her pocket to reach for her keys. Her wrists shook; the door opened and the building’s main custodian stared up into her expression and must have seen…something. He ushered her to the office, and activated the emergency protocol.

It felt like a minute or an hour as she sat there, waiting to go through everything. Talking to parents, talking to the police. She didn’t know if she was coming or going. As she spoke to the parents, the police, the Rabbi, and the president of the congregation, all she knew was that she wanted to go home.

Sam had been nervous since the news hit Twitter.

Swastika drawn on District Temple. Glass window shattered.

When the news reports were released, when the temple’s Rabbi had talked about tolerance, he’d lost his mind. He’d paced his apartment in the predawn hours and called the studio.

“Is there anything I can do today?” he asked Marcus when he picked up the phone. “Anything?”

“Come right over. We’ll find you something to do.”

And so he did. A few hours later, he was finished folding flyers and actively avoiding going back into the booth to record the message to the donors. He was convinced that the second he stepped into the booth, Deb would call or email or something.

“Any news?”

Lisa shook her head. “Nothing.”

He could barely breathe. He wanted to go out and find her, but he hadn’t been to the temple. She hadn’t taken him there.

“Go into the booth. Record,” Liz said, pointing to the open door. “Focus. We’ll let you know, okay?”

He nodded, swallowed. “Okay,” he said. Then he took a breath and walked into the booth, closing the door behind him.

The first thing Deborah did when she got out of the final interview was to call her sister.

“Debbie, oh my god I’m so glad you’re ok. Are you okay?”

She sniffed, the warmth and fear were at the surface of her sister’s voice. “I’m…not,” she said honestly. “I’m…physically okay. I’m still…”

“I’m so glad to hear your voice. I love you so much.”

“I love you too, Lisa. I love you. Are you okay?”

“We…Liz, Marcus, Sam and I...we were all worried…we’re all here…”

“Sam’s with you?”

There was a long pause, but for once, Deb didn’t care that she’d admitted to her sister that she’d been thinking about Sam.

“Yes,” Lisa said eventually, “He’s been climbing the walls, worried just like the rest of us.” There was a long pause and Deb wasn’t sure what Lisa was going to say next. “Do you want to talk to him?”

She sniffed back tears, reached a hand up to her eyes. “Yes,” she said. “Yes.”

The there was a scratchy silence on the other end, and whispered voices as Lisa handed the phone off.

“Sam,” she said. “I…”

“Whatever you need. Whatever you want, I…”

“I want you,” she said. “You and Toby. Can I come to your place?”

“Of course you can,” he said. “You absolutely can. Give me ten minutes and I’ll meet you there.”

And those words were the best she’d ever heard, from anybody. Ever.

When he finally opened the door to his apartment for Deb, Sam’s heart had just started to slow down. He wanted to hold her, physically shield her from the outside world. “Whatever you want,” he said. “Anything. I swear. I’ll…”

“This,” she said, kissing him before pulling back. “This is enough. You are enough.”

He kissed her back, full of honesty, of love, and everything he had inside of him.

He took her hand, lead her to the sofa, put his arms around her. “It means so much that you’re here right now. So much.”

She laid her head on his shoulder and he pulled her in close. “I want to let you in,” she said. “You’ve never come to my apartment; I’ve never taken you to the school. You should come to my place to watch an Empires game. You and Toby.”

He nodded, and his breath came faster. “I need to tell you something first.”

She nodded. “Okay?”

“So…I’m…I’ve been your benefactor. I’m the one who’s been donating, filling all of your requests. I’ve been donating all of the money for your special projects. ”

She looked up at him, wide eyed. “It’s you? E…C?”

“Ezra’s my middle name, Cohen is my mother’s maiden name.” He felt the heat rising in his cheeks. “I didn’t know how to tell you, and I didn’t want you to think…”

She kissed him, cupped his cheeks with her fingers. “I get it. I totally get that. Though it’d be weird if you came to DC because of me. Why did you?”

“The story’s a bit lame, I’ll admit, but basically I was on my couch, on a Friday night, Toby was on my chest. I opened my email to find the BlueChorus entry when they talked about ‘Rogue Acts’. I had nothing to do so I watched from beginning to end.”

The frustration and anger that he’d felt when he’d finished that movie still burned him. “I had to do something to help ‘Rogue Acts’ because people needed to see it. People across the country and even around the world; they needed to know their fellow citizens were fighting the policies that President Crosby was pushing and the world he was creating in so many different ways. I had to meet with your sister and the rest of the team.”

“I also knew that they couldn’t just randomly fly to New York because I said so. However, I could randomly fly to DC and I had an apartment I could borrow, so I took the opportunity and initiated the meeting.”

She nodded, and it looked as if she was digesting the information. “Did it occur to you then that I might be the director’s sister?”

“Taubman is a common name,” he said as he ran a hand through his hair. “I wasn’t sure. I didn’t know. But I wasn’t going to search you out. ”

“Well,” she said, taking a deep breath. “I’m glad you came.”

Instead of answering her, instead of telling her how glad he’d been that he’d come, he did the smartest thing he’d ever done. He kissed her back.