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Message: <blockquote data-quote="The Crimster" data-source="post: 158581" data-attributes="member: 2511">Alex enters the room and looks around.  "Man... what a mess! even my studio isn't this bad... Well... This is a pretty cramped space to be organizing things..." He looks at a few mathematical formulae and files confusedly. "Guess no one's here - He really did just forget to lock it."  Alex, you do not see any of your paintings anywhere, sadly.Randy enters as well, looking at the various piles of paper and whatnot.  It appears to be quite a mess.  This could be an all-nighter.  He moves over to the table nearest the left wall - a good as place to start as any.  Randy, there are open drawers everywhere.  Papers - everywhere.  It occurs to you that the condition the room is in, it is as if the last time Alan was here, he was looking for something.  But something bothers you.  You can't quite pin down what.Dr. Silver comforts Julia, and then asks her for some boxes and garbage bags."Oh, yes.  Good idea, Ray."  Julia turns to leave and gather some supplies.Sam gently places his hand on Julia's arm.  Taking a deep breath he fixes a hard look at her, which softens in but a second... "Ah Julia I know you are in pain, and I don't mean to cause you any more... but there is something you're not telling us. Please Julia, I need to know what it is you are holding back from us. I promise that whatever it is I will keep it 100% confidential… I am talking to you now as a friend that I know we are, not as a cop." Julia looks down, and there is an awkward moment.  "Oh, it's nothing really, Sam.  Let me grab some boxes, I'll be right back."  Julia walks away from the office, looking older and more tired than ever.You can hear the thunder outside, telling you the storm is getting closer.  All of you are alone in the study now, everyone else is gone.Dr. Silver moves over to the armoire, and begins to go through the contents.  You find a shoebox, filled with letters.  Primarily personal letters, from Julia to Alan during one of his many business trips.  One letter however, catches your eye.  It isn't written in Julia or Alan's handwriting.  It is short, and written in an odd frantic style.Oct12Dear Alan,Can we blame it on the wine, Alan?  The beer? The tequila?What happened that night I can never forget.  What we did together - what *you* did - was wrong, Alan.  No other word can describe it but *wrong*.  I have had horrible nightmares ever since then.  I don't feel normal, I feel dirty.The rest of the Club knows something happened - they're just not sure what, and it's better off for them if they don't know.  Hell, I don't even know.  Alister isn't speaking to me.  He's supposed to be my boyfriend and he's not even talking to me.  I can't concentrate on my school work, and if you expect me to pick apart Rommel's theorem for the test, you're dead wrong.TracyAt that moment, Julia walks back into the room with an armload of boxes.  "Ok, here we go gentlemen."  She gives a smile.</blockquote>

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