The popular paparazzi broadcast TMZ had zeroed in on the story of Lorraine and Griffin and their campaign to save the public library system just over three years earlier. When they were nearly killed at the rally, TMZ and its crew of writers were jabbering before a white wipe board and the show’s producer and de-facto host. The show had clung to their romantic epic ever since.

One eager young writer / reporter said, “Don’t forget, this is the guy we hailed as a conquering hero just a few years ago.”

The host said, “The narrative’s changed.”

A second reporter, a chubby Asian male, said, “Exactly. Now that he’s being sued, it’s obviously time to take a second look at this guy. That was a pretty vicious beating back in Denver. We’ve all seen the phone videos, he did not need to break that guy’s arm.”

The host wrote unreasonable force on the white board.

“He was showing off for that librarian,” the reporter said.

The host repeated, “That librarian? Lorraine Phoenix is the most famous librarian in modern history. She could run for mayor of New York if she were a bit older, probably will someday … and I’ll bet she wins, too.”

“She’s totally hot,” a younger reporter, a slim male said, sharing a high-five with the chubby Asian next to him.

One of the female paparazzo said, “Then he hides behind her when that shooter struck. Some hero.”

The host shook his head, black hair short and wavy. “No, that’s not fair. She threw herself in front of him, that’s not on him.”

“That’s what some people think,” another reporter offered.

“And then that Central Park shooting? I mean, c’mon, how many shootouts can these two wind up in before we start asking questions?”

“Yeah,” another volunteered, “thank God this lawsuit’s bringing all this to light.”

The host, an attorney, said, “All this to light? This has all been on our show over the past four years. Ease up on the medical pot before work, eh?” Everybody in the room chuckled.

Lorraine and Griffin watched from their bedroom, laying in bed. Lorraine curled up against Griffin for warmth and for support, to give it and to get some in return, too.

“Seriously, though,” the slender man said. “She was in on both those shootouts, too, and in Central Park she was carrying a handgun and was blasting away into a crowd. It’s amazing she didn’t hurt anybody.”

“That guard was killed,” another reporter said.

“Not by her hand,” the host cautioned them. “Watch those allegations, you guys.”

“Well,” another said, “I’ve read on the internet that she was involved in clandestine deals to push her PEEK program through — ”

“It’s PEEC,” the host said, correctly pronouncing it like peace. “Phoenix Enterprises Educational Centers, the PEEC program.”

“Right, well, it wasn't very PEECful that day, it resulted in the shootout.”

“Plausible deniability,” the host said, “that’s more like it. So what do we think? Is this Charles and Diana with muscle, or Bonnie and Clyde with money?”

Lorraine and Griffin shared a worried sigh. “Our corporate partners aren’t going to like this.”

“No potential juror will either. I don’t think we have a hope in hell of getting a fair trial now.”

* * *

After a quiet dinner, Ashe and Kayla spent some time playing on the living room floor before bed. Ashe was her pet unicorn and Kayla a warrior princess of some sort, reigning over a peaceful kingdom just turbulent enough to provide her three-year-old imagination with enough fuel to keep her fantasies alive.

Ashe was getting older, at fourteen he very nearly resembled a grown man, if quite a bit more spindly and smooth-faced. And for all his advancing maturity, a desire to find himself as a mature adult, he was never above the horse whinnies, rising up on his knees to pedal his arms like equine forelegs.

Kayla was quite serious in her instructions, leading Ashe further into their imagined forest, forever on the hunt for one enchanted amulet or another.

Lorraine and Griffin sat at the dining room table, sharing a quiet smile, his hand cupping hers. They glanced at one another, then back at their children, happiness swelling around them like a protective shield. The chaos of the outside world seemed locked out, their shelter impervious to its menace and venom.

“He's such a good brother to her,” Lorraine said. “You’re such a good father to him, and to Kayla.”

Griffin smiled. “No, Lorraine, it’s not me. Before you came into our lives, Ashe was … he was lost, I couldn't reach him. It took you to bring him out of his shell, and you couldn’t have done it without coming out of your own shell.”

“Which I did, thanks to you.” She said with a deep appreciation and warmness.

“An investment that’s paid off in spectacular fashion.” They shared a chuckle and a kiss, the kids playing in the other room, no need for guidance or protection. Ashe was learning how to provide that, just as he’d learned to accept it.

It was the cycle of life, the passing along of lessons and wisdom from one generation to another. But Lorraine had never known with such certainty and clarity until that moment just how gratifying it was, how vital it was, to pass that wisdom along, to teach those lessons, while it was still possible, while the children were still young enough to absorb their effects.

“You think she’ll be a storyteller, too?”

Griffin said, “Look at her, already role-playing with the best of them.”

Lorraine couldn’t help but smile. “He really is the best of them.”

Griffin looked at Lorraine, his eyes locking on hers, their faces nearing for a loving kiss. “Among the best,” he said just before their lips met, gently pressing, tongues commingling in a moist, loving embrace.

* * *

Lorraine walked around the long conference table, setting a manilla folder down in front of every member. The smells of their combined perfumes and colognes were overbearing, she could feel the beginning of a headache, but the looks on their faces more than made up for it. They shared high brows, stunned and silent little mouths, heads either jutting back in surprise or leaning forward in morbid curiosity. They looked at each other, a lot of glares falling to Treena, who could only hope her innocence was clear in her round eyes, small mouth dipping, a subtle shake of her head.

“This is my proposal for a different approach to the budget problem,” Lorraine said with a little smile as she set a folder down in front of Casper Newkirk at the head of the table. He looked at her, one brow raised, the other pressing down over one of his beady eyes. “I thought instead of cutting faculty, losing all those skilled teachers, worthwhile people who work hard and need those incomes, we’d take a look at increasing our funding.”

Casper said, “There is no more money, Mrs. Phoenix, at least not from the state government. And if you think the Fed will pony up, you’re sadly mistaken.”

“No, Casper, I know enough not to expect that.” She surmised.

Treena said, “Wouldn’t it be nice if we could all manage to pillow-talk our husbands into donating a huge bundle of cash? Are we going to have a rock concert, too? I kind of like Billy Joel, if your husband could put in a call or something.”

Lorraine stared Treena down as the others chuckled or glanced around the table.

Lorraine said, “My family’s not donating a penny, neither is our company.”

Casper said, “There’s always something to be said for leading by example. And you did work wonders for the library system.”

“I think this calls for something else,” Lorraine said as they began opening their files and glancing at the few pages included in each one.