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Ema flopped onto her couch. Holy shit, what a week. These investigations have been making her feet ache; she might have to actually wear a pair of sneakers sometime soon.
She rubbed her soles. Man, and the heels make her feel so badass…
Well, at least there was no one to dress up for right now. Alone in her apartment, she was free to go shoeless as a hobbit while doing whatever she wanted. Which typically meant watching her favorite medical drama with dinner and some snacks.
Yeah, that'd do her some good. It was cloudy outside, which was good weather for watching TV, and All on the Table just came out with a new episode she was itching to catch up on. Dr. Ally Truism has been getting more and more scenes with Nurse Pang. Hopefully, the writers for a show about hospitals would be able to read a pulse, because the fanbase's heart has been taken by that ship since season three. Their chemistry was made from a perfect formula; the scientist in her approved it heartily.
She was in the middle of ripping through some pretty good Thai leftovers when she got a text.
Kay (6:30pm): "Hey!! Are you ready?"
Oh, shit.
A text like that definitely meant she was not ready.
She scrolled up. Right: she had agreed that she and Kay would be getting drinks. They had made this plan a week ago, to spend a Friday night out on the town. She could imagine Faraday bouncing off the walls in anticipation. A stark contrast to the detective, who wished she could slip into her couch cushions and find a pocket of time-space where she could just… not exist for a little bit.
Then, a second text.
Kay (6:31pm): "I might need a little bit! Time got away from me, LOL."
Ema smiled. Also typical of Kay.
If she hadn't started getting ready yet… Ema supposed that she could run an idea past her. One that would spare her a lot of stress, may end up being as enjoyable as a night out. For her, at least.
Ema (6:33pm) : this week was kind of a clusterfuck lol and i'm pooped. still want to hang out tho. how would u feel about just coming over and watching a shitty medical drama?
She pressed send, then read the message as it appeared in a blue text box. Once, then twice. That text sounded normal, right? Like, just a casual change of plans. Not some kind of… cop out.
She sighed. She wished she were a more energetic person, for Kay's sake. That she could commit to all the crazy things Kay kept recommending on their weekends— doing a gauntlet run of the worst fast food restaurants in downtown LA, bringing a boombox to the trampoline park, staking out at Joshua Tree to look for UFO's at night…was she just lazy? Or was she just… not cut out for that kind of life?
Unsure. Lab results inconclusive.
Her phone pinged.
Kay (6:35pm): Omg, yay! That sounds cozy :D I'll be there in a half hour, sound good? :p
Ema smiled to herself, reading over the words that Kay had chosen. Yay! Cozy. Her previous worries subsided as she reminded herself that Kay might be energetic, but she also had the quality of enjoying literally anything.
She typed away.
Ema (6:36pm) : yeah that's perfect. i'll see you then!
Ema set her phone down. Closed her eyes and put her hands in her pockets. The pockets of… her lab coat.
Oops. She hadn't changed out of her work clothes yet; she needed to fix that. After finishing up her dinner, she went to her bedroom and took off her pants and shirt. A quick rummage through the laundry she hadn't quite folded away yielded a clean hoodie and a pair of sweatpants. Something cozy, like Kay had said.
She passed herself in the mirror and paused for an objective inspection. She hoped she didn't look like hell. Some people could pull off the effortless athleisure look with such ease. It's a fine line between Olympian off-the-clock and resident Los Angeles bum. She thought of Phoenix and his usual getup, smiling to herself. He was definitely the latter.
She had to make some preparations before Kay came over: giving the apartment a cursory clean was priority number one. Ema was usually tidy, but sometimes the week would get away from her— especially weeks like these, where she found the investigations dragging on past her contract hours. Funnily enough, it was the idea of crime scenes that kind of made chores manageable. She found she could get through the tedium of it if she pretended the clutter was precious evidence to meticulously file away.
There were larger dorks in the world, she was sure. Hell, Kay Faraday would probably clean things by thinking of it as a grand heist. Maybe even dodging invisible lasers tapering over the floor. Ema snorted.
Outside, it started to drizzle. It had been overcast for most of the day; she was expecting rain. After the stint of chores was complete, she threw some popcorn in the microwave and checked her fridge. She had a couple bottles of hard cider— that was good.
She was just pouring the bag of popcorn into the bowl when she heard a tiny scritching noise at her door, like a cat pawing for entry.
Except Ema knew it wasn't a cat.
When she turned the knob, she found Kay crouched conspicuously on the other side, a bobby pin in one hand and her phone in the other. She raised herself as if in surrender, sagging her head to the side. "Darn it. I was almost done, too. The lock's so easy."
"Oh, man," Ema deadpanned. "I'm gonna sleep so peacefully now."
She could hardly finish the sentence before Kay's arms were flung around her. "If anyone tries to break in," she said over Ema's shoulder, "you know which private investigator to call."
Ema usually wasn't touchy-feely with anyone, but Kay was the one exception: she was a Great Thief, and yeah, among other things, she could steal a hug or two.
When Kay pulled back, she was beaming. Short hair really suited her; it looked light and matched her free spirit. A fringe of black bangs jutted off to the side, soft and sleek like crow's feathers, framing her face nicely. The LA sun had been kind to her skin; her already brown complexion warmed with bronze undertones. She was dressed simply, just a sports top and sweats. Her face was bare. Ema appreciated that— she hadn't put on any makeup, either.
Kay crossed her arms, gloved fingers resting against her biceps. "So: medical drama?"
Ema nodded. "Yeah, medical drama. All on the Table. We'll be starting from uh, season four, so… sorry if you're a little lost."
"No worries! I'll just ask about a lot of stuff." With that, she walked past Ema into the apartment, her eyes immediately wandering to every nook and cranny. She'd seen it all before, of course. It's just that she had never quite kicked the habit of looking around as if for hidden treasure.
Ema scooted past her to retrieve the popcorn in the kitchen. "How's work been this week?"
Kay flopped onto the couch, drawing her knees up. "Pretty exciting. I'm looking into like, a missing person case right now, and I'm pretty sure they're in a thirty-mile radius of here."
"Damn," Ema said, setting the bowl and bottles of hard cider on the coffee table. "Want me to check the basement real quick?"
Kay tilted her head and seemed to genuinely consider it. "Nah. Something tells me they're not here here. But if you have any leads about a white detective named Robert Fulbright, roughly six feet, brown eyes, brown hair— lemme know."
"Got it," Ema said, settling into the couch. "I'm all over that. Robert, here I come."
Kay leaned forward to toss her gloves onto the coffee table before taking a fistful of popcorn. "But really, my job is like a huge puzzle sometimes, and I'm like a lady living in a fifty-five-and-up community. It's addicting."
Ema snorted. She hardly needed those words to know Kay loved her job; the enthusiasm for it showed plainly on her face. It had been touch and go for some time as she floundered to chart a course outside of her father's; Ema knew that. She'd tried to be an apprentice lawyer, and it wasn't a good fit. Neither was she a great detective: she could break open a case, but unfortunately not without breaking the rules. But it seemed like being a private investigator was a perfect fit; it allowed her to steal the truth, uninhibited by regulations. It was her calling— she'd found and acquired the job she was truly meant for.
And Ema felt a little envious about it. Not like she wasn't happy for Kay; of course she was, but… well. It would be her twenty-sixth birthday soon, and she was still just a petty detective. Casting sidelong glances at the forensic scientist on the investigative team, watching them do all the things she'd much prefer doing.
She could have moved on to be one of them, by now. If she would just stop fucking up the exams.
Man. Exams were just the worst thing. They weren't really common in the States; tests were smaller and interspersed between larger group projects and essays. But when she studied in Europe, her school was entirely exam-based— the weight of one's future hanging on a handful of scores. She was never able to get over her anxieties about them, ten years later.
The worst part is, the forensic science exam always had an oral component she'd flub entirely. She'd have to verbally explain a concept to the proctor, and nothing could stop her from blanking completely. She didn't know what it was, but it'd been that way for some time.
She wondered why every little anxiety she had was so stubborn. Like a fingerprint she couldn't pull. Why couldn't she just… get over it?
Kay snatched the remote off the coffee table. "Wanna start watching?" She asked, nudging the remote into Ema's arm.
Ema eased up, allowed herself to smile. "Hell yeah," she said, and used the bottle opener on the coffee table to pry the hard cider caps. They popped off with a satisfying fizzle just as the intro sequence to All On The Table filled the room.
The drizzle outside had become steadier and came down in larger droplets, making a muffled patter on the roof and against the windowsills. It played as a backtrack to the sounds of hospital personnel shuffling through sterile corridors.
Kay wasn't kidding when she said she'd be asking questions. Ema was practically providing commentary for the whole show. Sometimes, being put in that position sort of pissed people off, but she actually enjoyed it: Kay had a way of making you feel important when you talked. Her catlike eyes would be trained on you, and she would press for details with alacrity. And she committed every fact to memory, too. Halfway through the episode, she was already commenting how Nurse Pang was acting 'out of character', and hey. She was right.
"It's because Pang is thinking about Ally Truism," Ema explained. "They're sort of an unlikely duo, and they get on each other's nerves. They're a pretty popular ship."
"Ooh," Kay said, clapping her hands together. "Lesbian medical practitioners… yeah, I can see it! Dr. Truism is the real spark of the triage; she's got all the spunk and the optimism… and Nurse Pang is like, her grounding, grouchy friend."
"Yeah," Ema said, crunching on her popcorn, "and they just. I don't know…"
"Play off each other well?"
Ema snaps a finger. "Yeah. Like, they're foils of each other, and it just works."
"Kinda sounds like the Evil Magistrate and the Steel Samurai."
Ema rolls her eyes, her fingers going slack in the bowl. "Yeah, if the only female character in that show is a robot with huge tits called the 'Pink Princess', I think I'm out."
"She's not a robot," Kay says, straightening up on the couch. "She's a warrior in costume. Tokusatsu-style. And she's not the only girl either. There's the daughter of the daimyo, Mei. And then there's Mayoi, and Susato."
"Are they well-written?" Ema asked, watching as Nurse Pang shuttled a patient to the emergency room.
Kay shrugged. "Does the writing count as much as the stuff you make up about them in your brain? I dunno. They don't give us a lot to go off of, but that's kinda the fun part. Because then you get to, like. Imagine all the little things about their life. Like, hey, why does Mei want to escape from her daimyo dad so much? There's got to be some cool backstory for that. And I can just make it up in my mind palace, and boom. It's in there, and she's now the coolest character."
"Yeah. I guess that's a fun pastime for creative types."
The rain outside continued to fall in large drops. Then it simply downpoured. Ema could see it all splashing down from the window by the couch, stormy and turbulent.
"You're creative," Kay supplied, nudging her.
Ema laughed drily. "Please. I couldn't creatively find my way out of a paper bag. When you were busy making your Yatagarasu costume from scratch, scarf and hairpin and all, I was wearing school uniforms. And I liked them— that was the thing. Because fashion was just beyond me. I was so shit at it."
"Aww, that's not true. I remember the cute hat and your thigh-high socks." Ema groaned in recollection. "What? It was cute! And you used to draw, remember? I remember you showing me some stuff from when you were a kid— you were good at it."
Yeah—Ema used to draw. A lot.
And at one crucial point in her life, it was drawing that made her capable of communicating something she couldn't dare to put into words. After that, she didn't draw as much. It felt too heavy.
Ema needed to brush this one off. "Hey. I just threw shit at the wall and saw what stuck."
Kay swallowed a mouthful of popcorn. "You'd be amazed, but that's pretty much all there is to being creative. Oh!" She pointed to the screen. "Look, they're interacting— your ship."
Ema watched along, and both she and Kay dipped into the popcorn bowl and took sips of their drinks.
The rain was hitting the windows in a pattering barrage. The TV screen shouldered the responsibility of being the only light source as the clouds, now gray as charcoal, blotted out the Los Angeles horizon.
Then, All on the Table played one last scene before cutting to black. At the same time, the floor lamp petered out. Leaving Ema and Kay in the dark.
"Shit," Ema muttered under her breath. "It was just getting good."
And her reaction was partially honest. It was annoying that the show had just been interrupted, and that this storm was messing up her evening plans with Kay. It was Friday, and she needed a damn break.
But her reaction was also downplayed. Because she didn't want Kay to know there was a more unsettling premonition dawning on her than a soured TV viewing.
The power went out— that's always the first thing in a thunderstorm. That's what had happened all those years before, at criminal affairs. When Damon Gant and her sister had been interrogating Joe Darke. And the rain was falling, falling hard.
Then, a flash of lightning cut through the apartment.
Ema jolted on the couch.
Lana?
A deep-bellied growl of thunder rolled through like a death knell, and Ema's muscles refused to move an inch. She stayed still, stayed quiet. She needed to be quiet; that was important to her survival in this instant, here in Lana's office— here in, wait—
Dread swarmed her, taking her by the diaphragm and hoisting her up so she could hardly breathe. And everything came back: the voice of Joe Darke. Two figures suspended in a bright flash of lightning, their silhouettes forever engraved in her mind. The thunder rolling. The feeling of being small and powerless as you huddle together and squeeze your eyes shut and hope that nobody dies. That someone finds you. That you can save yourself.
She could hear someone calling out her name, and for a moment she thought it was her sister.
A throw blanket had been flung over her shoulders. Without thinking, she hooked her fingers into the soft fabric, pulled her closer. It was warm, grounding.
"Hey," Kay said, amiable, even-toned, as her arms held the blanket tight around Ema's back. Her black bangs fell a little over her eyes as she ducked down to look at her. "It's good. It's all good— we'll watch the show later. Now we can have me'n'you time."
"Me and you time," Ema echoed. "Cool." Me and you, here, right now. And where was here and now, exactly?
"Yeah. Did you know that you're going to be all good?"
Ema's heart thumped in her chest. "Even though it really, really feels like I won't be?"
"You're safe," Kay said, drawing circles on her back. "You're good. You're golden. Remember all the times this has happened. They passed, right?"
Yeah, that was the pesky thing about knowing someone for seven years—they got familiar with your whole deal, your oddities and your hang-ups. And Kay knew about this one. Had seen it before, and coaxed her through it.
Ema sighed. "Yeah. It passes. But that's 'cause I could get myself down. What if I can't get myself down and my heart explodes and then I die of, like, a heart attack?"
"That's not going to happen. Scientifically improbable. Right, Ms. Science?"
"Improbable, not impossible," she groused. "Herlock Sholmes knew the difference."
"Well, it's gonna be impossible when I'm here," Kay said. Then she squeezed her shoulder lightly. "I am going to rob you of any doubts on that, or I'm not a Great Thief. Just you watch."
With that, she took out Little Thief from her sweatpants pocket. It was a clunky-looking thing, especially now that she'd made some additions over time: a comically large keychain with little charms dangling off the base of the antenna, and a smattering of stickers on the sides. She plugged a prompt into it, tapping indecipherable code into the screen. Ema watched distantly through a film of memory, the screen the only light in the room.
"Here, this should do." She raised the device into the air. A green torrent emitted from its antenna and pooled outwards, illuminating the dark in an emerald glow.
Around them, the room changed. Holographic forms were projected against the walls and seemed to warp the scope of the room, creating an illusory sense of space. As the images loaded and beamed in, Ema could see a familiar landscape forming. Some kind of… stadium. Large bleachers protracting outwards into an indeterminate vanishing point.
"Is this… Gatewater Land?" Ema said as she blinked, adjusting her eyes to the light. Her shoulders sloped a bit from their tense position.
"Yeah! Where we met. Can't believe I still have this thing in the memory files. It should be exactly as it was seven years ago. Cool, right?" She ran her forefinger right under the button of her nose: her signature way of expressing self-satisfaction.
"Yeah. There's the stupid little badger-mobile, and…" Ema looked around. As she took it in, the feeling of being in Lana's office weakened. They were on the ground floor of the stadium, and if she turned her head to the window, she could no longer see the thunderstorm outside. Instead, there was a stage, all set up with rock-and-roll paraphernalia. "Oh my god, I forgot it was a Gavinners concert."
"Yep! And now you work with him."
"Don't remind me. Isn't this supposed to be, like, a happy place right now?"
As if to punctuate her sentence, another lightning strike came. Ema flinched and hoped it wasn't too noticeable. She grabbed the blanket around her shoulders, pulling it closer.
Kay put her arms around her and held her tight as the second rumble of thunder rolled through the room. "Yep," she said quietly as it passed, "Thunder, rolling along. Coming and going." She searched for Ema's gaze, but couldn't find it: her eyes were closed. Then Ema felt a light squeeze on her shoulder. "Hey: I should still have the files for the people, too. Hold on, wait. You're going to love this."
Ema hoped so, because she didn't love anything about the present moment. The present moment that was so vividly colored by the past.
Kay fidgeted around with the screen on Little Thief, then pressed a clunky button that must be some kind of 'enter' key.
A green hologram beamed in front of the coffee table. As it materialized, it assumed the form of an adult male, his arms crossed and facing the stadium overlaying Ema's apartment window. Minor distaste colored his expression as he tapped a finger against the crook of his elbow, just below an unmistakable cravat. He even blinked once or twice in a short loop.
"Jesus Christ," Ema said.
Well, Kay did achieve the desired effect— Ema was wholly taken away by her mounting sense of dread, at least momentarily, to examine this static-laden doppelganger of twenty-six-year-old Miles Edgeworth.
"It's like seeing a ghost," she breathed. "It's like…" She reached an arm out and passed it through the holographic image. "This is the weirdest thing ever. Cool, but weird." She settled back into the couch, studying the face that dithered with waves of soft green light. "You know, I kinda get why I had a crush on him. He was a pretty guy."
Kay shrugged. "He's still a pretty guy. He's missing these, though." Kay got up in front of the holographic image and put her thumbs and forefingers together. Then she raised them in front of Edgeworth's face, creating a very unconvincing pair of glasses.
Ema snorted. "If he saw you doing this, he'd scold you. I can basically hear him." Then she lowered her voice an octave, affecting a somewhat posh-ish accent. (Forgive her American soul, but she doesn't know a damn thing about British dialects. Couldn't tell one from another.) "Kay, you're in your mid-twenties. Perhaps it's time to stop acting like a child?"
Kay spread her arms wide and mimed a heartfelt hug, her face landing in his holographic cravat. "Aw, man, I'm sorry, Edgeworth." Then she turned back to Ema and cast a thumb back at him. "Dude, I can do anything with this. Want to see him rotate around at two hundred miles an hour? Or we could make him super tiny and pretend he's stuck in one of the cider bottles. Prosecutor jail."
"Hasn't he been in jail, like, three times? Spare him." She smiled, leaning back on the couch a bit. "Feels wrong to mess around with him, even though it'd be funny as shit." Then her smile shrank as she fell into thought, her brow furrowing.
"What's up?" Kay asked, before bringing her voice down a little. "You're doing better, right?"
"Yeah, it's nothing about that. I was just thinking— you still have the data of the people you entered in Little Thief, all that time ago. Does that mean you still have the one of me? When I was sixteen?"
Kay nodded. "Yeah. Do you…wanna to see her?"
A flash of lightning intercepted them. The thunder rumbled, and Kay slung Little Thief in her pocket to hold onto Ema again. She cursed her body for being so damn stubborn, for making Kay do this a third time. For not getting over this already.
"Yeah," She bit out. "Put her on for old time's sake. I want to see how stupid those thigh-high socks were."
Kay straightened herself up. "Come on, they were so cute. You'll see." She took Little Thief back up, her fingers moving across the screen with practiced speed. "Alright, this should do it."
A column of green light appeared in front of the TV screen. It was the socks that came first, really: objects seem to materialize from the bottom up. So it was the garish stripes, then the tail of her very first lab coat, and then the school uniform with its patent blue and pink, and finally, the face of sixteen-year-old Ema Skye, smiling back at her.
Ema's eyes widened. "Wow. I was young."
This shouldn't be a surprise, and yet it was. As a teenager, she was used to feeling so big and accomplished, what with living on her own and everything, and studying abroad, but… she was just a kid. A kid hurtling towards adulthood as fast as she could. Who would have thought?
Is this more or less how she looked when she was fourteen, when she was brought to the witness stand to testify about what happened in the office? When Miles Edgeworth had asked her questions about the night of Neil Marshall's murder, and all she could do was stammer and fall silent? Smooth out the drawing she'd made and hope it would do the explaining for her?
Yeah. Oral exams were difficult. They had always been difficult, after that.
Ema looked into that holographic smile uncertainly.
"See that happy face?" Kay chirped, resting her hands on her bronzed forearms. "I catalogued you after you begged me to add your data in for like, five hours— remember? You were through the roof about it."
"Sounds like I was a nuisance."
"You were awesome. You loved Little Thief. You had so many questions about it. Ooh! I just want to pinch your cheeks." And with that, Kay actually did pinch her cheeks. Well, her hologram's. Her fingers phased through the green light, distorting the illusion a little.
Ema wasn't sure why she'd asked for this. It was weird enough to look at yourself in the mirror. Now she was faced with the younger version of herself, and it was smiling. Kay was right: she did seem through the roof. About Little Thief, sure. But about a lot of other things, too. She was brimming with potential: every day, she was one step closer to getting her dream job. Of being a forensic scientist. Because when she grew up, that's what she would do.
"Do you think…" Ema paused, tilted her head. "Do you think I've missed my window, on the whole forensics stuff?"
Kay turned to look at her, eyes wide. "Huh? No way. That window's still wide open. You're taking the exam again next month, right?"
Ema chewed her lip. "Yeah. But I don't know. It'll be my fourth time." She thought of the oral exam, about her mind going blank and stumbling over her words. About her fear of being put on the spot to explain something that she desperately needed to, for the sake of her survival. Was it something she'd ever conquer? Or was it like lightning— something that'd stay emblazoned behind her eyelids, no matter how long after the flash?
Kay pointed to Ema's hologram. "Hey. Look. This girl right here—this sixteen-year-old girl— it was her forensics skills that had put a murderer away. More than once. Did you forget that you were supremely badass?"
Ema tutted. "Guess I really hit my stride there."
"You did."
"Wonder if I could hit it again. Sometimes I think I…I don't know." She pulled the blanket a little tighter. "Fizzled out."
Kay looked at her squarely. "You've got so much fizz, it's crazy. You're like a Coke from McDonald's."
"Don't say that if you don't mean it," Ema whispered in partial awe. "That's like, legendary praise."
"It's true. McDonald's Coke fizz." She put her hands on her hips. "Honestly makes me want to get one. But I mean it: you've got so much good stuff bottled up. And something's gonna shake you up and let it all out— I know it."
Ema felt those words, and for a moment, she really did feel bottled up with... something. She didn't know what. All she could say was there was a bubbling anticipation in her, an expectation of things to come. If forensics really wasn't a wash... if what Kay really meant what she was saying...
Suddenly, the holographic landscape wobbled a bit. Then the electricity to the apartment came back on. All on the Table bustled forward with a triage scene, and urgent calls for a defibrillator.
"Woo!" Kay put her hands in the air. "It's back. You still wanna watch?"
Ema smiled. "Hell yeah. Let's keep going."
Kay lowered her arms, regarded her thoughtfully. "You're sure, right? We don't have to. It's up to you, you know."
Ema settled back onto the couch, placing the popcorn bowl back on the cushions. "I know. It's all good, Kay. I'm doing better now. Promise."
And it was true. The storm continued on outside, but Ema's panic had subsided, rolling away like a cloud onto new horizons. Sure, it didn't mean it wouldn't come rolling back in at some point. Thunderstorms were pretty common this time of year. But she had Kay Faraday with her. And Kay Faraday was no fair-weather friend.
Kay saddled up next to Ema, and with one click, Little Thief was deactivated. The green light dissolved, leaving the living room untouched.
Ema let her fingers grow slack, allowing the blanket to drape around her loosely. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see Kay leaning into the screen, elbows on her knees. The popcorn bowl was balanced precariously between them.
"Thanks," Ema found herself saying. "And not just for the fizz thing. Thanks for all the stuff with Little Thief. It helped."
"'Course!" She took her bottle in hand and turned her head. Her catlike eyes crinkled at the ends. "You know I've got you anytime, right? Rain or shine. Count on that."
Ema took her own bottle, clinking it with Kay's. Feeling a carbonation in her chest similar to the hard cider.
They watched the last twenty minutes of the episode together, shoulder to shoulder. Overall, it had a pretty satisfying tie-up. It turned out that Nurse Pang's characteristic skepticism was actually keeping her from realizing her capability as a nurse. She'd experienced so much loss, and felt so helpless at times in the ER, that she wasn't sure her efforts counted. But she just needed a firm but loving push from Dr. Truism to remember that yes, she was able to save the patient's life— so long as she didn't give up on herself.
Ema thought she might bring the show back to episode one and let it play in the background while studying tonight, after Kay leaves. Sure, it was a Friday night, but the studying wouldn't be so bad, with the background noise. And that forensic science exam wasn't going to ace itself.
Because this time, she thought as she hugged Kay goodbye, I am going to pass. And when I do, she will be the first to know.