Records indicate that Samuel Rawls was listed as medical power of attorney. It doesn’t appear that this changed after Nathaniel and Catherine were married. That’s strange?

There were no specific instances of mental instability listed in the records that I’ve accessed thus far. I will continue to dig as well as access the court’s records for the justification of their verdict.

Surveillance—nothing new, Ms. Burke and Ms. London appear to be becoming friendlier. They have now started to meet for lunch once a week.

PR

Phil reread the email. He couldn’t help but smile at the ARA. It was his secret way of saying Anthony Rawlings Alexander. Having something—anything—private with Claire, made Phil smile. He wondered how she was doing, if she and the baby were well. He didn’t feel right asking, but if Ms. London ended this ridiculous assignment, Phil knew he was taking a long flight back to paradise.

Time passes by so quickly...change happens all around us every day whether we like it or not. Enjoy the moment while you can, one day it will just be another memory.

—Unknown

Days passed. The sun rose bright and yellow in the East and set like a ball of orange fire in the West. As their candidness grew, so did the strength of their bond. The world was present, they could see it or read about it, yet they were separate and safe. Tony’s offer to cooperate with the FBI in exchange for an one year reprieve received Agent Jackson’s approval, as well as whoever needed to sign-off from above. The bureau’s stipulations were clear—Tony must remain outside of the United States—stay in contact with the bureau—and not contact anyone from his past life. There were very few people who knew Anthony Rawlings was actually in a strange state of witness protection/fugitive status. To the world, he was simply—missing.

Agent Jackson promised Tony leniency regarding possible sentencing and preferential treatment regarding the court system as long as he fully cooperated; he agreed. Before Tony would allow the FBI to speak with Claire and receive her assistance, he secured their promise of full immunity. Tony didn’t want any possibility of his wife being charged with aiding and abetting a fugitive. They agreed. During the course of multiple short, untraceable calls, Claire disclosed all she knew first hand and through Tony. When the FBI requested her testimony against Catherine, if the case were to go to court, Claire replied, “There’s nothing that can keep me away from her trial. I want to see her face when she’s sentenced. When she’s in prison—like I was—I want her to remember that I helped put her there!”

They both exposed their cards and revealed all they could—except one. They still had an ace in the hole—they had Phil. His emails came daily, as well as pictures, and an occasional call. He was fully aware of Tony’s deal, Claire’s immunity, and that his communication and assistance was under the FBI’s radar. Their contact could be considered a breach of the FBI agreement.

The newly remarried Rawlings knew their time together was limited. In the grand scheme of life, a year was such a short time. Each day, each hour, they vowed to make better than the one before. Revelations came and discussions ensued. Claire no longer feared that Tony would leave each time he took the boat away from their island. She reasoned that his expeditions were like her walks in his woods during their past life. At that time, she needed time away from the estate; it soothed, healed, and strengthened her. Claire said once that she survived the early times on Tony’s estate because of Catherine. No longer did she feel that way; however, when she reminisced about her walks and her lake, Claire knew those times were invaluable. Tony went to town, explored other islands, snorkeled at nearby reefs, and always returned. He may not have recognized the importance of his excursions, but each time he returned with his eyes soft as suede and a spring in his step—Claire did.

She, on the other hand, had no desire to leave the island. Unless she had an appointment with the doctor, Claire preferred to stay near the house. Being in the southern hemisphere, the hottest time of year was approaching. If Claire didn’t keep her feet elevated, her ankles and feet swelled. The infinity pool allowed her to float and stay cool. Madeline doted on her constantly, encouraging her to eat small meals and get plenty of liquids. Home was Claire’s cocoon. She knew if they stayed there, they’d remain safe.

In her third trimester, sleeping at night had its problems, so often times, daytime activities morphed into napping. She’d be sunbathing or reading, and the next thing she knew, she was waking. The early day was her favorite time for sun before it became too intense. With her iPad at hand, she’d begin each day reading the news from the other side of the world. Sometimes it held her attention, and other times she’d lay the tablet face down and be lulled into a peaceful, dreamless state where her senses filled with the warm sun on her skin, lingering aroma of cologne mixed with her recently applied sunscreen, and the omnipresent roar of the surf.