Carol started by checking my cabinets, and fridge, for food. Then the sink for running water.

I took her to the main bathroom, where she verified running water, and bath-soaps. Some of Sierra's makeup and brushes were stacked on the edge of the bathroom vanity.

I opened her bedroom door, and shut it back. "Sierra Marie Korvall!" The thumping of her running was easily heard. I opened the door as she slid to a stop. "I told you not to leave the collections boxes out."

"These are the ones I am wearing. And that one you haven't given back after I let you wear it Black Friday."

"Alright. Go back to dad."

Sierra made a point to not acknowledge Carol. Dad did this when he felt someone didn't deserve respect. And acknowledging their presence would give them at least the respect of entering your eyes.

"She is just like Dad." I smile. "This is her room, in my house. The more expensive jewelry, and limited editions are kept here, and she usually keeps her out of season clothes here."

"She has two rooms?"

"The workshop is hers too." I add. "She said she didn't want her feet to get cold, when I asked her why she took over my Living room."

"You guys give her a lot of freedom." Carol said as she walked into the room. "Aren't you afraid she will loose your nice jewelry?"

I pick up the Tiffany's box I still have the pieces from, and hold it so Carol can read the engraving. "You have it wrong. These are hers, I borrowed from her." I set the box on the vanity in the room. "She furnished this room. She paid for the rug, the sheets, the bed, jewelry, clothes. The only thing in this room, she didn't pay for, is our mom's vanity." I sit in the chair. "You remember in the kitchen, when I said 'imagine if a company stripped her of her intellectual property?' Look around you. She wanted a $5,000 Duvet, she bought it. She wanted a $22,000 Cartier silver and Topaz set, she bought it. She wanted that 3kg sphere in that contraption out there, she got all the permits she needed, kept herself safe, and used it where it's needed for her experiment. Her intellectual properties fund her research, and her lifestyle."

"Permits?"

"Something about the material, and it being able to be used to make nuclear bombs more powerful, and she needed a pretty unusual amount, purity, and shape. So permits. I don't know how much she pays for most things, but let me give you a few examples of how much she earns. She paid off Dad's house, she paid cash for this house as a wedding gift, I never took it out of her name, and that door stop is indeed an ingot of gold, the ones behind the door are copper, silver, Platinum, and a Bronze alloy." I paused for a second. "Carol, that girl cares so little about it, she uses Gold for a doorstop." More like she ran out of reasons to make more ingots of precious metals appear on my kitchen table.

This narrative has been purloined without the author's approval. Report any appearances on Amazon.

"Tabby, are you done yet?" I hear her giggle, "You shouldn't take that long to poop, should I dial 911?"

"Sierra Marie!" I yell through my own giggles.

"I was serious earlier, if you piss her off again, hope it's me who asks for you to be removed. What kind of dirt would she find about you for the cost of a ten kilogram ingot of platinum?" I stand. "I think you've overstayed your welcome."

She practically ran out of the house.

"Did you put a fire in her pants?"

"No, I showed her your doorstop, and asked what kind of dirt could be dug up on her for that price. Then told her you would do it if she pissed you off again."

"I have to wait for her to make me mad again? But, I already have a P.I. looking into her...well, four actually."

I let out a groan what am I going to do with this person? And I see Dad hand her an envelope about an inch thick.

The girl's mouth smirked with the 'dad-face' I knew all too well, the one where the trap closed, and you are now prey.

She jumped off the couch, and ran to my room, slamming doors as she went. Then silence. Complete silence.

"Where did she go?" I asked.

"To Brian's Whore. Think about it Tabby. He gave up all this research, for you. Do you think for a second he'd let his muse stay hurt."

"So why is she going there?"

"Because the whore is with another woman's husband. She ditched Brian when he told her he'd signed the papers."

She is going to help the new woman, dad was always ruthless when pissed.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I remembered seeing the big camera yesterday while I was cleaning, I ran through Tabby's house grabbing it, and the box of pop tarts, then moved myself to a long time coworkers house. I had been invited for July, 4th; a couple years ago.

What I didn't know, was she had only invited the single men to the cookout. She was looking for a spouse. I had gone, had a nice day, despite the sausage fest, shot a few fireworks, and six months later attended her wedding to the guy she chose to sleep with after the cookout.

Diane is a hard worker, and a damn good welder. And she deserved better than a man, the whole crew, even the office workers, referred to as, Derpy.

Well, his decision to step out on his marriage, is just another in a long line of bad screw ups.

I made sure to grab the big camera, to make as much noise as possible. Then changed to my preset 4 body. I did a dimension hop outside the bedroom window, moving the curtain. Taking a few photos which would be admissible in court. I made sure the Whore's face was plainly visible. I then put the camera on rapid fire mode, and dropped into the bedroom.

'Click, click, click. Click. The camera's shutter was loud.

"Man, Diane was right, you did become a piece of shit." I said. Timing everything for 'that' moment so it would take a few seconds for either of them to react. When they started to move, I continued.

"I just got pictures of you with Tabitha's husband, Brian, yesterday, and now, Diane's husband, David, today." I look Evangeline, the whore, in the face as I said it. Still letting the camera click by. "Should I know your other clients? It would save me time as a Private Investigator to already know who you're sleeping with."

As his hand almost reaches me, I hop to the other side of the room, to the astonishment of both.

"Are you two on a bad trip or something? Doing drugs as well as having an affair in your wife's bed." I said, the rapid fire clicking finally stopped, and the camera beeped letting me know the memory card was full.

"You guys are tripping something fierce; well, I got the pictures Diane paid me for. Should I call 911 for you, it looks like a bad trip? No, okay." I hop home without saying anything else. Print off every picture on Tabby's photo printer, then hop to work, putting the pictures in Diane's driver's seat. With the photos dated by the camera, Derpy got screwed twice tonight. I separated the photos into two envelopes, one unlabeled, the other labeled Inadmissible in a court.

Evangeline, I'm going to make your life hell.