Chapter Nine #2
Zane pauses like he wants to say something else, but in the end, trails Baby out the door. In the lobby, we put on our jackets and step into the bright morning, the sun reflecting off the snow.
I don’t last a second. “Zarah needs to stop seeing Dr. Solis. Now , Zane.”
He leans against my truck, his jacket flapping open, his black and silver striped tie hanging crisply from his neck. He looks elegant, snazzy. I can see why women go for him, if they like that kind of thing. “You’re right.”
I move to get into the truck, but Zane pulls his cell out of the pocket of his jacket. He searches for a number, connects, and holds the phone up to his ear. “Dr. Solis, please. This is Zane Maddox.”
He waits, listens, but I can’t hear who answered the phone.
Zane stares across the parking lot of the assisted living facility. I wonder what he’s really seeing.
“Dr. Solis, this is Zane Maddox. No, she’s fine. No, no. I’m calling to let you know I’m releasing Zarah from your care. She’ll no longer be seeing you.”
A pause.
“It has nothing to do with you. After the past eighteen months, we’re heading in a different direction.”
Another pause.
“I’ll compensate you through the end of the month. Happy New Year, Dr. Solis.”
He disconnects without waiting for her to respond.
His shoulders tense, he connects to another number. I wish he’d do this in the truck. I’m freezing my ass off.
“Zarah, you’re not seeing Jerricka anymore. I just fired her.”
Her panicked, “Why?” is loud and clear.
He winces. “Because Davenport says so, that’s why. We’ll talk about it later. I’ll be home for dinner. Let Lucille know.”
As soon as he disconnects, my phone starts ringing.
“She’s your problem now.” Zane sighs. “I need a break. I really, really need a break.”
I bite off my anger. I’m grateful he thinks he can trust me, but dumping Zarah on me like a stray cat isn’t the answer, either, no matter how much I love her.
“That was shitty. In her state of mind, she probably thinks she did something wrong.” I answer her call. “Hey, sweetheart. No, he’s not mad at you. We were doing some digging this morning about Quiet Meadows and what you and I found there—”
She squeals, hurt. “Did you show Zane the video?”
“No, I didn’t. I said I wouldn’t. We went to see Iona Belsely. She said a few things about Jerricka—”
“What? Gage, you have to tell me.”
She’s near tears and it breaks my heart. “We will. She’s working with a doctor who used to run drug trials at Quiet Meadows. We don’t think it’s a good idea for you to see her anymore. She might be connected to some bad shit.”
Zarah’s breath hitches. “But—”
“You saw her yesterday, didn’t you? Did she seem off to you?” I settle Baby in the extended cab and turn on the truck. The vents blast cold air.
Zane sits and scrolls on his phone. I wish he wouldn’t have upset Zarah this way, but that’s Zane, I guess. To the point, unaware his bluntness is hurting anyone. He doesn’t have time to dick around and worry about people’s feelings.
“No, I don’t think so. Sometimes my sessions are harder than others, and yesterday was one of those times. I hadn’t seen her for a few weeks because of the holidays, and we talked about some heavy things.”
I’ve never been in therapy, don’t understand how it works. Paying someone to listen to you talk about your problems has always seemed like a rich man’s luxury, but Zarah’s going through a lot of issues, trying to put away what Black did to her, trying to feel her way around our relationship. I can’t judge her and say she doesn’t need therapy. It could be the only thing that’s been saving her life since Zane brought her home from Quiet Meadows.
“Are you okay? Do you want me to drive out?” I want her to say no and push back the guilt. I have an appointment to talk to Savannah and Meredith’s mother and I might already run late. I have to drop Zane off at his office and then I’ll have to drive like hell across the city.
“Stella’s here. I’m okay. I was just scared I did something that made Zane or Jerricka mad at me. She didn’t tell Zane she didn’t want to see me anymore, did she? Zane fired her?”
“Zane fired her. There’s nothing you need to worry about. We’ll find you someone else. Someone not connected to Quiet Meadows. We’ll look together.” I shoot Zane a look that says, “You did this, so now stay out of my way.”
He arches an eyebrow and shrugs.
“Okay. I like that. You and me looking together. Maybe you can go to some sessions with me?”
Fuck. I walked right into that one.
“Whatever you need me to do, sweetheart. I’m dropping your brother off at work, then I have an appointment. Can I call you later?”
“Of course. You never have to ask. I’ll be home all day.”
“Sounds good. I love you.”
“I love you, too.”
She disconnects, and I resist throttling Zane. “You scared the fuck out of her. Why did you do that?”
I coast out of the parking lot, gripping the steering wheel so hard my knuckles turn white.
“I treat her with kid gloves and everyone gets pissy and says to treat her like a person. So I do, then I catch hell. I fired her therapist. There wasn’t anything more I needed to say.”
“You could have told her everything I just did.”
“You did it better than I could have, and if you want to help her find a new therapist, go ahead, but I have the final say in who she sees. She’s still my sister.”
“Yeah, because your final say always works so well. Next time, take it easy. It’s not like it’s been smooth sailing since she had her panic attack at my apartment.”
He has the grace, at least, to look ashamed. “I’m still not good at talking to her.”
“I told you, you have to forget all the shit that’s happened, and if Jerricka Solis was a bad idea, you’re going to have to get past that, too. This shit is all connected. From the minute Zarah met Stella in payroll, this is all connected.”
He stares out the window as the buildings go by, traffic jamming the street. “You might be right. But I can’t see the endgame.”
“Maybe there isn’t one.”
Zane stares at me. “Of course there is. The Blacks never did anything without a reason, without a projected outcome. Cook and the Blacks were working together—Cook owns Quiet Meadows and Ash took a specific interest in the drug trials Dr. Pederson was performing there. What were they testing? How can we find out?”
I turn onto the interstate entrance, accelerate, and merge into traffic. It may not be any faster than driving downtown to reach Zane’s building, but I need all the seconds I can spare. “We decided me talking to Rourke is a bad idea. If he’s involved in this, I don’t want him to know we know. But it could explain why Zarah was so scared of him at Max’s dinner. Maybe he visited her at Quiet Meadows and she remembers he wanted to hurt her, or that he did. Zarah knew how to get into the basement. They brought her down there.”
Zane rubs his forehead. “Okay, well, for right now, Zarah’s out of Quiet Meadows and she’s not seeing Dr. Solis anymore. She has an appointment with Dr. Reagan and he’s going to lower her medication dosages again. She’s been doing well since the night at your apartment. Maybe all she needs is a break. Let’s go with that and regroup.”
“I’m talking to Savannah Mesa’s mother after I drop you off. I’ll see if she can shed any light on what was going on at the facility, or at least why she believes her daughter would commit suicide.”
“Do you think the girl in the park, that Stacy Birmingham, is connected to what’s going on?”
Pressing my lips together, I consider the question. “Were they at Quiet Meadows around the same time? If they were part of Dr. Pederson’s research, I don’t know. Savannah Mesa wasn’t bipolar or schizophrenic, at least, not according to her sister.” I have to fight against the emotions rising in my throat. Meredith’s dead, and I have never once entertained the idea it’s my fault because I didn’t take her more seriously. I don’t want it to be true. “She was only depressed.”
I exit off the interstate and fight people on their way to work. I’m a patient kind of guy, usually using the time on the road to puzzle out a case, and I never mind the traffic unless I have somewhere I needed to be ten minutes ago. I stop in front of Maddox Industries and let the truck idle.
“Well, keep me in the loop.” Zane pauses. “Thanks for being on our side.”
“One day I’m going to marry her. Just so we’re clear.”
Smiling faintly, he says, “I have no complaints.” He slams the door shut and trots up the stairs toward the towering building. People come and go, and Zane’s stopped three times before he reaches the revolving doors. I wonder what it’s like to be in charge of so much, to have the power to control everything you look at with a crook of your finger.
Zarah will have that same power. I see glimpses of it when she’s feeling good. I’m proud of her, but her legacy isn’t something I can comprehend. It’s not like Pop and me working cases, running our little business. I’m almost thirty-seven years old. Don’t have a kid to pass it along to, and if Zarah and I do get married and have children, they won’t want my meagre PI business. Zarah and Zane will raise them to rule the world.
I don’t know how to feel about that.
I head in the direction of the Mesa’s house and call Zarah again just to double check she’s okay. I hate the way Zane handles her. I know he’s been under a lot of pressure the last couple of years, but why he can’t treat Zarah like a normal person pisses me off. Deep down I know it’s guilt. Fuck, he left her locked up in Quiet Meadows for five years, but he can’t hide from that. I’ll pick up his slack because I love her, but he needs to be careful or he’ll damage what little relationship they do have.
She says it’s a nice day and that she’s going out with the dogs. I’m glad she likes to spend time outside. I know it’s always helped me when I feel shaky. Taking Baby on a run puts my head on straight.
I tell her to be careful. She needs the independence and the autonomy, and I don’t suggest she invite Stella along. Sometimes you need to be alone, and she’ll have the dogs to keep her safe.
Her goodbye is more subdued than usual, but she’s had a lot of changes in the past few months. I didn’t do any more followup on Ingrid, either. Her sister emailed me back to tell me what’s in Chicago (nothing, and that’s confusing as fuck), and I forgot to tell Zane I found out where she went. I’ll need to email him when I’m back at the office. Even though I see him in person, I should still get into the habit of emailing both him and Stella. Technically, they’re my employers, though Pop never said if he cashed the check Stella wrote out for him.
It costs me another fifteen minutes, but at the last minute, I decide to drop Baby at the office instead of making her wait in the truck. Pop isn’t here, but that doesn’t mean anything. He could be out eating breakfast or pounding the pavement working a case. He hasn’t said anything more about the explosion, but he hasn’t had much of a chance because Zarah and I have been spending so much time together. For years, it used to be just me and Pop, and after Viv dumped me, I didn’t care about dating anyone until I rescued Zarah from that pack of paparazzi. She used to say I made her feel squishy inside, and looking into her huge brown eyes, I know now exactly what she meant.
That vacation Pop and I were planning isn’t going to happen, either. I’m not leaving Zarah alone, and she shouldn’t be traveling. Zane can fly her, them (us?) anywhere they want to go but sticking with the familiar is probably for the best right now. Maybe one day soon Pop and I can catch a football game at the stadium. If I can stay out of Zarah’s bed long enough.
The Mesa’s house is just as big as the others I’ve visited during the investigation of this case. I don’t think I’d like to live in a house so large you wouldn’t hear people coming or going. A technician in my little apartment wouldn’t be able to hide. I’d have my Glock to his head before he could flip open the circuit breaker box.
I park off to the side, and a maid lets me in. Pop should be here, too, but we decided only one of us would go. Savannah’s mother speaking to me is an interesting turn of events, and Meredith’s suicide could be part of the reason she changed her mind. A week ago, she would barely talk to Pop on the phone much less invite one of us into her house.
Audrey Mesa isn’t anything like what I pictured her to be. Mostly, I envisioned her as an older version of her daughter Meredith, blonde hair and blue eyes, sad and somber, but Audrey is a brilliant redhead. Her skin is clear, freckles dotting the bridge of her nose, and her eyes are a vivid blue. She must be twenty years older than me to even be close to the right age to have a child Savannah’s age, but she looks ten years younger.
What surprises me most is when she stands to greet me. She can look me in the eye without high heels. Not many women can do that.
“I know what you’re thinking, and I took advantage of my height and modeled for many years.” Her voice is rich, smokey. When her husband first met her, I bet he didn’t stand a chance.
She’s dressed in leggings and drowning in a sweater two sizes too big. Shadows rest under her eyes, and she’s too thin. Grief can do that to you.
“Sit down, please,” she invites, and we sit in a little area near a large window that looks out over a snowy backyard.
“I’m surprised you agreed to talk to me,” I say and gratefully accept a large mug of coffee. It steams hot, and the scent is earthy, woodsy. For some reason it brings to mind walking in the forest with Zarah, kissing her as squirrels play in the trees.
Audrey sinks into the chair and lets it cradle her, tucking her lean legs under her ass. Tears roll down her cheeks. “I keep telling myself I should have then, at least to appease Meredith. She was so certain someone came into the house and killed Savannah, but the idea’s preposterous. Who ever heard of such a thing? I should have listened, but I brushed her off. She knew I didn’t believe her, and it made her feel unloved.”
“You don’t think Savannah was murdered?”
She holds a tissue to her lips. Her fingers are long and only a plain wedding band encircles one finger. “The idea is absurd. Meredith didn’t want to believe Savannah hurt enough to end her own life, but depression runs in our family, Mr. Davenport. I know how deadly it can be if left untreated. I suffer from it, but I control it with diet, exercise, and regular visits to my therapist. I take an antidepressant. I do all I can. My mother was fortunate and has dealt with a mild case off and on throughout most of her life, but my grandmother had severe depression and committed suicide when my mother was just about to graduate from high school.”
I recall my similar conversation with Mrs. Grayson. I think she said depression ran in her family, too. I guess I’m lucky I didn’t inherit anything like that from my parents. Pop’s rock solid. My mother can be flighty, but most of the time I think it’s an act to keep Rourke interested.
“How were Savannah’s experiences in Quiet Meadows? Meredith said she spent time there, off and on.”
A hard look enters Audrey’s eyes. “That place can burn to the ground for all I care. I popped a bottle of champagne the day Zane Maddox closed the facility.”
I raise my eyebrows. “Really? Everyone seems quite angry Mr. Maddox instigated the closing of the sanatorium. At least, everyone I’ve spoken with. It left a hole in the community, one that still hasn’t been filled.”
“The last time we admitted Savannah into an in-patient program, one of her psychiatrists sexually assaulted her. A nurse caught them being...intimate in her room. He went from denying it to saying she wanted it, went so far as to say they were in a relationship! They tested Savannah and found traces of his semen in her vagina.” She closes her eyes in disgust. “He was a guest psychiatrist from Saskatchewan. He’s serving time in a prison in Regina.”
“How long ago was that? I didn’t hear about it in the news.”
“We settled out of court, very quietly. They didn’t want it to get out, and neither did we. Savannah had already been through so much. My husband calls the prison once a month. That bastard won’t get parole without us knowing.”
“Did Meredith know to what extent this was going on? She mentioned the last time I saw her that Savannah said her doctors liked to touch her to see how she would react.”
“We kept it from Meredith. We didn’t want her to know, and neither did Savannah. She didn’t want Meredith to look at her differently.”
“You didn’t try to close the facility yourselves after what happened? You weren’t afraid the doctors or staff would do it to another patient?”
Audrey scoffs. “That place was a golden goose. They weren’t going to close it down. There was only one person in the world who had the power to do it, and he did. I include Zane Maddox in my prayers every night.” She lifts a coffee carafe. “More coffee?”
“Sure. Thanks.” I pause while she pours, try to delicately phrase what I want to say. “Perhaps had you been more forthcoming, Meredith would still be alive.”
Her hand trembles, and I wait for the expected expletives and for her to throw me out of her house, but all my words do is cause more tears to wet her cheeks.
“You’re probably right, but Mr. Davenport, how do you explain to your child that her sister committed suicide because of a past sexual assault? What that doctor did made Savannah’s depression worse than it ever had been before. Savannah begged us not to say anything, and that was her choice. Her father and I didn’t go against her wishes.”
“Even after Savannah passed away?”
“What good would that have done? Meredith missed her sister and took her own life because of it. Her father found a note in her room. Troy, God bless him, loved Savannah, but after the abuse she suffered, she never would have been able to have a normal relationship, not without therapy. Her trust in the psychiatric community was shattered and we couldn’t beg her long or hard enough to see someone else.”
“She wasn’t seeing Jerricka Solis?”
Audrey frowns. “No. I’m sorry. I don’t know who that is.”
I wilt in my seat. This interview isn’t going as I expected. “I’m sorry things turned out the way they did.”
“As am I. Meredith was devastated after Savannah’s death. Completely devastated. I don’t think Meredith would have lasted long on this earth without her, no matter the circumstances. Do you have siblings?”
I stare into my coffee cup. “I had a brother. We weren’t close, and he passed away a while ago.”
“I’m sorry to hear that.” She lifts a cookie off a china plate on the coffee tray and nibbles at the edge. “I know who you are, of course. Truth or Dare is a guilty pleasure. You’re dating Zarah Maddox. You, as well, have your work cut out for you.”
Warning prickles at my skin. “What do you mean?”
“Dating someone who has such an unstable past. You love them so much you think you can fight your way through anything, that your love will be enough. It’s heartbreaking when you realize it’s not.”
“Zarah isn’t like the others. She didn’t belong in Quiet Meadows.”
“She didn’t? Denial can be dangerous, Mr. Davenport. Let me show you out.”
Blunt, to the point. She’s done talking to me.
I set my coffee mug on the tray and stand. I’m not going to try to stay and talk further—we don’t have anything left to say—but I want to know one last thing. “How do you stay so calm? How do you not let it destroy you?”
“I have a strong faith. Meredith used to say I belong to a cult. She hated the Church, but God brings me comfort. He tells me everything happens for a reason, and I believe Him. My girls’ deaths won’t be in vain. That brings me peace. Do you pray, Mr. Davenport?”
Barefoot, she follows me to the front door and opens it, letting in the chill and the bright light.
“No.”
“Then you should. One day you’ll need peace. No one can live this life without it. Goodbye.”
She closes the door and I’m left standing alone on the wide porch feeling anything but peaceful and an empty prayer on my lips.
Pop’s doing paperwork when I stomp into the office. It started to snow, and now it’s almost a blizzard out there.
“How’d that go?” he asks.
“Which part?”
He laughs. “Any part. I feel like I haven’t seen you in days.”
Guilt pokes at me. “Yeah, sorry about that.”
“Never be sorry about spending time in a woman’s warm bed. You’re too old to be alone.”
“The same could be said about you. You should let Zarah set you up. I think her feelings were hurt when you turned her down.”
“Your mother badgers me enough. I need a woman who’s down-to-earth and doesn’t carry a bag worth my whole damned house.”
I hang up my jacket and pat Baby on the nose. “Do you think Zarah and I are a bad fit?”
“When you met her, didn’t I tell you not to think she’s better than you are?”
“I remember, and I don’t feel that way. Not anymore, anyway. Stella helped a lot. Talk about down-to-earth. And the fact that even if their house can fit ten of yours inside it, it still feels like a home, not a museum or a mansion. The dogs have free rein, Lucille walks around laughing, threatening to beat everyone if they don’t pick up after themselves. Douglas and Stella play cards in the kitchen and drink margaritas. They’re real people, not—”
“Not like your mother and Rourke. I got it. Maybe if I could find a woman like Stella, I wouldn’t mind if she had a little money, but the truth is, Stella wasn’t born rich, and Zarah, well. She’s been through a lot. That’s going to change you. If you would have met her seven years ago, before all this shit started happening, then maybe you wouldn’t have been a good match, but what’s the point of talking like that? Zane and Stella might not have been a good match if Zane’s parents hadn’t been murdered. That don’t have anything to do with money, either. What brought this on?”
I sink into one of the chairs in front our desk. “Something Audrey Mesa said. About Zarah belonging in Quiet Meadows. Willow said it, too. It’s like they know something I don’t.”
“They don’t know the inside story. Audrey’s only seen the Lyndhurst footage, and Willow’s been locked up for the past year and a half. Where do they get their information? The news?” Pop scoffs. “Don’t let other people’s opinions color what you know. You’ve never been one to listen to anyone before, so don’t start now. Especially when it’s important.”
“Yeah.” I don’t sound convinced.
“You’re gonna worry until all this is done. You’re gonna worry for a long time after it is, but just remember, Gage—”
I look up, so rarely does he say my name, and his eyes are full of sympathy.
“—if things turn out different from the way you want them to, it’s not your fault. I’ve brushed with that crowd, and it wasn’t for me. Zarah, she loves you, I can see it when she looks at you, but if she changes her mind about what you two have, it’s not you, and it’s not her. It’s the whole fucked up situation, you got me? There’s been a lot of talk about suicide and—”
Pop stops and looks away. I stare, my jaw dropping. Never in my whole life have I ever seen Pop cry. Not when I got shot, not when the truck exploded. Not ever. I’m sure he did, in private, but here he is, in the office, sniffling over old coffee. “—if she decides to move on, don’t do anything stupid, okay?”
“Dad—”
He chuckles and rubs his hands over his eyes. “Haven’t heard that in a coon’s age.”
“Because we’ve never had a ‘don’t kill yourself over a woman’ conversation. I would never do that. What Troy did...Christ, I don’t want to think about it. You and I are a team. We were before the Maddoxes, and if, like you say, Zarah decides what I am isn’t for her, we’ll still be after them, too. I won’t lie—I’ll need a couple of days and a few cases of beer to lick my wounds, but I’d be okay. I promise.”
“Good. Speaking of beer, you wanna grab a couple tonight? We can go to Old Jake’s and knock back a few.”
With the way he asks, he expects me to turn him down, but I say, “Yeah, that sounds good. I’ll have to drop Baby home first.”
Pop grins. “Nah, put her vest on her and bring her along. You got two ladies in your life, and you’ve been neglecting one.”
Baby pops her head up, her blue eyes sparkling. She knows we’re talking about her. Yeah, she’s my girl. I’m lucky the two loves of my life get along.
“I’ll blame you if we get into trouble.”
“Like she doesn’t get whatever she wants. She’ll have Jake eating out of her paw in no time. Now, what were you up to this morning?”
“Zane and I went to see Iona Belsely.”
Pop stands and shoves a pod into the Keurig to brew himself a fresh cup of coffee. “Who’s that again?”
“She was the director at Quiet Meadows. Zane got us in to talk to her.”
“About what?”
“About what she thought was going on in the basement of the facility, and why Ashton Black was so interested in what Dr. Pederson was doing.”
I tell Pop everything I know. Ingrid and the calls I made to track her down. Zarah’s flashback. Pop isn’t Zane, and without feeling like I’m betraying Zarah’s trust, I ask if he’s watched it yet. He shakes his head and I show him the clip that’s hiding in our email. I shove earbuds into his hand and turn away. I don’t want to listen to her screaming.
He goes white, just like I knew he would.
Satisfied I had a part in it, I explain that Zane finally fired Dr. Solis, and that Zarah isn’t seeing her anymore. I come back around to our meeting with Iona and her insistence she didn’t know anything about anything. “But she knew enough to be concerned about this,” I say, handing over the newspaper I copped off Iona’s desk on the way out the door. Zane didn’t care I took it. The information would have been easy to look up, but what the hell.
“A dead girl in the park?” Pop raises an eyebrow.
“That’s what I thought, too. The other girls didn’t pan out to anything and I don’t think this one will, either, but Iona speculated she’s dead because the care she was receiving from Dr. Pederson ‘ran out.’”
“Ran out? What do you mean?”
“That the drug’s effects he was treating her with wore off. That maybe after she stopped receiving therapy, she relapsed.”
Pop pauses. “I don’t know much about bipolar disorder, or schizophrenia, either, but I think if someone is being treated for it, it wouldn’t take as long as a year and a half for them to go back to the way they were before medication.”
“Yeah, I guess you’re right.”
“Savannah Mesa was a rough one, and maybe this Stacy Birmingham partied too hard, too. It’s been known to happen.”
“Unfortunately.” Pop and I have been hired more times than I can count to find women addicted to drugs and bring them home to clean up. It never lasts very long and sometimes families can’t afford to pay us more than once. We always keep an eye out for the girls on the streets, free of charge, but we can’t save everyone.
“You and Zane getting along then? He listens to you.”
“Don’t know why. That guy has the world by the balls.”
“His trust has been broken, and love makes you vulnerable.”
“I suppose. Just a few days until he marries Stella.”
“He loves Zarah, too.”
I press my lips together and think about what he said to her on the phone this morning. “I don’t like how he treats her. He’s callous.”
“Sometimes you have to be. Not for her, but for himself. I like him. The Blacks taught him not to take any shit. He’s doing his best and the last thing he needs is someone else kicking him while he’s down. I have a feeling he does that enough for everyone. Invite him out tonight.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah. I’d like to see him sitting at Old Jake’s.”
The picture does bring a smile to my face. I’ve been pushed into their world of drivers and mansions and bodyguards. Let’s see how he does in mine. “I’ll give him a call.”
“Call Ross, too. We can buy him a couple rounds and thank him for the tips. They rang up pretty sweet last month. Made us a little.”
“You’re turning into a real social butterfly.”
Pop grins. “Never know. One day I might ask Zarah to hook me up. Now, let’s see what else we got going on. Wouldn’t hurt to call Krout and see what he says about Stacy Birmingham.”
I shoot him a look.
“Just for the hell of it.”
Pop never does anything just for the hell of it, but his persistence has paid off more than once. I tuck Zarah into the back of my mind and don’t let her out to play until late that night when I find her waiting in my bed, half naked and flipping through a magazine.
Coming home to her feels so natural, so right, but a voice rings in the back of my head, and the voice sounds like Max’s.
Don’t get used to it, because nothing this good ever lasts.