Emma watched as Kate paced back and forth in their small cell. Even locked up and desperate, Kate looked beautiful. All dark hair, dark eyes, and a smile that promised not only sensual pleasure, but pure, uninhibited fun.

"Wait, back up." Emma ordered Kate, quietly. "Now turn a bit, look all pouty and worried, staring off into space again. You reminded me of someone, and I just couldn't place...oh! Megan Fox. That's who you just looked like. And now you ruined it."

Emma giggled as Kate crossed her eyes and stuck out her tongue, most un-Megan Fox-like.

"I wish I looked like you," Emma sighed, trying to kill the time before their parents arrived by pretending she wasn't locked in a drunk tank, waiting on her dad.

"Me? Whatever for?"

Emma was about to elaborate, comparing herself and her giantess height, garish red hair and fair coloring to her friend's beauty, lingering on the size of her stomach, ass and thighs, but she stopped when her dad stepped in front of their little cell, led by the officer that brought them in here, and followed by Kate's father, who was bringing up the rear of the small group.

Emma couldn't help but smile at her dad's appearance in front of her. Every time she saw him, which wasn't very often as he was always gone or working, he reminded her of the cartoon dad in the Disney movie Beauty and the Beast, only taller.

She'd always been told she got her fiery looks from her mother, who died shortly after Emma was born. All she knew was that she didn't see any of herself in her father, Henry, at all.

His prematurely white hair stood up in little poufs where he had obviously run his hands through it, probably worrying about her. That thought made Emma feel guilty.

His moustache twitched as he took his time, preparing to speak.

Henry looked at the girls, nodding an acknowledgement at Kate, and focusing in on his daughter. His eyes drooped a bit, always making him look like he'd lived a tough life, but when you looked past his face, and into the eyes themselves, there was a calmness in their depths that made even strangers want to trust him. It was part of what made him such a good and well-respected Sheriff, once you got past his eccentricities.

"Emma, you aren't going to like what I have to say, I'll tell you that much right up front. But it's got to be said. I haven't done right by you, not by a long shot."

Emma started to protest, standing up in a rush to face her dad. She was just as tall as he, looking him eye to eye for a few years now. She was used to it. She towered over most women, standing eye to eye with most men since she'd turned sixteen or so.

He stilled her protests with a small motion of his hand and a narrowing of his eyes, and kept talking.

"I've been easier on you than I ever should have been, not having your mom around to help me and all. I'm gone pretty often on police business, and I've left you to largely raise yourself, relying on the proverbial village to help raise you. I knew it wasn't right, but it is what it is now."

He cleared his throat, obviously buying himself a little time before continuing.

"I've done you a disservice, and I know it. You have a choice to make, and I'll have your answer before I let you out of here. In the old days, men that were headed down the path you ladies seem to be headed down were given the choice of jail or the military. That, and pressure from your mom's family over the past few years, is where I got the idea."

Emma's heart sped up at the mention of her mother's family. Dad hardly ever spoke of them, and hearing them brought up here, now, made her breath come in quick pants, and her eyes widen in surprise.

"I can easily leave you here, to be processed as a criminal, letting the store manager press charges, and resulting in you having an official criminal record. You're an adult now. Happy Birthday, by the way. Or, you can choose to spend one year with your mother's people."

Emma shook her head in shock and confusion. Her mother has people?

"They aren't very far away, but they do keep largely to themselves. It's a rather, how should I say this?" He paused, his eyes darting to Kate and to Kate's father beside him, before continuing in what felt to Emma as a more guarded tone.

"It's a rather contained, traditional, almost tribal population. They would be good for you. They'd teach you respect, honor, things I seem to have failed to instill."

"Dad, don't! Don't send me away, please. It's my first offense, I've learned my lesson, I swear."

He just shook his head saying, "No, Emma. It's just the first time someone held you accountable. I've known about all the other times, you two aren't nearly as good at being bad girls as you think you are. In town, the shop keepers just keep a tally of what you take, and they send me a bill."

"What?" Kate beat Emma to it, standing up and facing her own dad, who was nodding beside Henry.

"You knew, you both knew? So what, you just made fools of us? Following behind us and cleaning up after us?" Kate's voice got louder.

"You've made fools of yourselves, actually," Kate's dad spoke up. "But yes, we did clean up after you. I'm just as guilty as Henry here. I know what preacher's kids are supposed to be like. I kept hoping it was a little phase you two were going through, together. And hoping you would get over it."

Henry spoke again, "I was trying to figure out how to best handle you, but then you guys went out of my county. I have no jurisdiction here, we're just lucky that they called us instead of booking you."

"So that's it? Those are my choices? Spend a year with my mom's family, whom I've never met, and didn't even know existed, or stay here?"

"Yes."

"It is still my first official offense. What would they do? Make me pay a fine? Give me some jail time? Way less than a year, I bet. Maybe community service?"

"An arrest record, fingerprints, a mug shot. A history that will follow you forever. Good luck getting into college, or getting a good job. Telling some future fiancé about your past, telling your kids why mommy has a record. Choosing your mother's people will avoid all of that. And, think of it this way- you get to know your mother's family. Where you come from, their way of life, people who knew her, grew up with her. They are a bit...different, but they are good people. Honorable people."

He shot a look toward the others again, obviously still not telling her something. But he had always been closed and quiet about her mother, so Emma didn't think much about what he could be leaving unsaid.

Emma thought about it, and didn't really see much of a choice here. It was your classic no-brainer. She could stay here in jail, or get a second chance that most other petty criminals didn't get, and also get to see where her mother came from.

The more she thought about it, with the shock of her dad's ultimatum wearing off some, the more her mind raced. Her thoughts circled. She'd always heard vague whispers when her mom's name would come up, rumors and secrets never being exposed to the light of day. Either rude, staring eyes or averted gazes were the norm when her mom's name was mentioned.

Before she could answer, Kate's dad injected, "Would Kate be welcomed, too?"

All eyes flew to him, Henry being the first to speak, "I'm sorry?"

"I'm just kidding. I was going to tell Kate in the car, but this seems like a good time for my news as well, with her being behind bars and all."

He turned to Emma's dad saying, "My wife and I were offered a transfer, through the church. The mission trips that our congregation supports, they go to Africa every chance they get. To help out, to teach, build houses, clean up their water, and all that. They lost their pastor. We'd been discussing whether or not to take the position, to move the family to Africa for a while, and the phone call we got telling us to come here to collect our daughter from jail cinched it for us."

He turned back to Kate, "Your mother and I are taking the post. Moving to Africa. You are coming with us. No stores to lift from there, I'd guess. It would give us a chance to start over, to steer you better. You are 18, I know that. But I also know that you are nowhere near being able to support yourself here. So, you are coming with us. Unless of course, you'd rather stay here, taking your chances with the legal system and having to find a real, self-supporting, bill-paying job. It's your choice."

Kate cried, yelled, bargained and cajoled, as Emma sat and thought. It wasn't an ideal choice, but as she sat, watching Kate try to persuade her father, Emma's mind was elsewhere.

A year was a long time, yes. Especially when it was spent with strangers, in what her dad had said was an odd, contained, traditional, almost tribal community of her mother's family.

It sounded almost like a cult to Emma, but she trusted her dad not to send her somewhere dangerous.

As Kate started to wind down beside her, accepting her fate, Emma started to get excited at the chance to see where her mom came from. She looked at her dad, searching deep in his eyes. She saw trust there, and love, and as always, for as long as she could remember, a large amount of heartbreak.

She knew somehow that her dad, in trying to save her, was also offering her a huge opportunity. But she also saw a dark, hidden knowledge buried in there. A secret that her dad had never been willing to talk about, that she knew she'd soon be a part of.

His eyebrows rose in silent question as Kate and her dad came to their own agreements. Somewhere deep inside Emma, a restless part of her that she often fought to tame, or at least to understand, stirred again. With a mixture of excitement, dread, and a large dose of fear, she nodded her acceptance to his terms.