Consequences

internship in Upstate New York. Being in the weather business, she should have realized how much she would hate the weather in Albany. However, it was the ability to live with her sister and brother-in-law that made the offer easy to accept. Recently married, Emily and John were very willing to help Claire any way they could. Emily taught school, and John recently started practicing law with an esteemed firm in Albany. Since the two were high school sweethearts, Claire knew John most of her life. Living with them was easy. In hindsight, maybe not for the newlyweds; but for Claire, they were her only family.
    When the offer came toward the end of her internship for WKPZ, Claire willingly followed her path to Atlanta. She figured the Vandersols needed some time alone, the weather was better in Atlanta, and the job was everything she prayed for. As the years continued, she learned more and more about the business, earned respect, notoriety, and a growing income. The station manager told her more than once that her willingness to learn and work made her a rising star.
    The path hit a roadblock in April of 2009 when WKPZ was purchased by a large corporate network. Claire wasn’t the only person to lose her job. Actually, over half of the veterans and most of the interns and assistants were let go . By then, she had student loans, an apartment, car and credit card debt. Honestly, that credit card and bartending kept food on the table while she looked for new employment. She considered leaving Atlanta. But she liked the city, the climate, and the people.
    In Atlanta, she could depend on indigo blue skies and rusted red dirt. The vision out her window was black and white, like an old photograph. The ground, trees, and grass were colorless. The cloud-covered sky hung low and endless. The word that came to mind was “cold.” She could be in Indiana, Michigan, or anywhere in the Midwest. They all looked alike. She hated the winter, the darkness, and the lack of color. Now she was staring at it through the windows of her prison.
    Claire wondered if she should have opened the drapes. Her discovery made her situation direr. If she wasn’t in Atlanta, where was she? And how did she get here? She looked at the stupid switch and considered shutting away the bleak outside world. It wasn’t helping her attitude. Claire decided the switch didn’t help her attitude or the non-English speaking servant, the expensive clothes, or the lavish surroundings. She was being held prisoner by a crazy man who somehow believed that he now owned her. Her location, luxurious surroundings, fancy clothes—none of it mattered. She could have been in a cinder block cell. She was still a prisoner, and the stupid stuff wouldn’t help that.
    As hours and days passed, Claire had nothing to do but think. She mostly thought about escaping, fantasizing about running through the massive wooded scene outside her window. In her fantasy, salvation was through the trees. But she couldn’t get outside the room, much less to the trees. After a few days, in a moment of heated desperation, Claire took one of the chairs from the table and tried to break the panes of glass on the French doors. The damn chair bounced off the glass. She searched the suite for anything heavy. The closest thing was a thick book. Even with repeated strikes, it had no effect on the windows.
    The hours and days spent alone made her yearn for the hustle and bustle of the Red Wing. She wondered about the regulars and her coworkers. Had anyone reported her missing? These thoughts usually resulted in tears and a headache. In an attempt at self-preservation and sanity, she began to think about the past. Was there something in the past that led to this?
    Liking Earth science and weather, meteorology seemed a natural choice. She loved the unknown. As a teenager, she experienced her first tornado. The power and unpredictability of the storm fascinated her. It exhilarated her to watch warm and cold fronts collide. She loved to learn more about it and the whys. The computers could help you predict the weather. But it is such a small part. Why do some fronts stall and create floods when days before the models predicted only an inch of rain? How can a warm sunny day suddenly turn stormy? She wanted to understand it better, to control the outcomes in some way, perhaps minimize its destructive forces. But now a degree in meteorology was useless.
    Near the end of March . . .
    He’d been in the