An actual father of an AGS-suffering teenager.

You approach the front door, half-expecting to see a pair of police officers on the other side... but are instead shown a pair of complete strangers. You get a good eyeful of them through the peephole: a portly man, balding with a strong chin and dressed in an unfortunately form-fitting polo along with his khakis. You're sure you've never seen the man, at first, but it slowly dawns that you have... and it clicks while you check out the woman next to him: a cherrywood of a woman. Tall, fit and strong-looking, her red hair was a long and tangled mess. You have to guess that she's nearly six feet tall, and with her figure and hair she'd stick out in any crowd even in her conservative turtleneck and jeans. Despite being a head taller than the man, she looks young, far younger than him; this helps you remember seeing her at the introductory assembly at the AGS-friendly high school, the only school event or meeting your wife trusted you to attend. Of course, she wasn't a fellow parent, but rather one of the dozens of students attending at Isabella's grade, and this man, albeit a bit fatter when you last saw him, was there with you and all the other terrified, worn-out parents of AGS teenagers.

Some might imagine wonderful coincidence brought you another, beautiful AGS victim, or else that this man might prove to be a partner in crime... but you don't live in some kind of erotic- well, recalling the events of the past week, you don't live in some kind of convenient erotic story. With no expectations, save panic and the fear of being caught, you place your hand on the handle of your left front door.

Inhale. Exhale. You've got this.

The sun pours in, and you offer a pleasant, but surprised smile. "Good morning?"

"Good morning, Leonard!" The heavy man shoots a pudgy hand out, eager for you to grip it in turn.

"Good morning,"you repeat, never letting your eyes leave his as his fat fingers wrap around yours.

"I- wait, don't you remember me? Jack Percy, and my daughter, Penelope Percy?" You decide you don't care for his somewhat shrill voice, and dread the thought that his silent daughter might have the same.

"Percy... from Nicholson Academy?"

Jack and Penelope both nod, though only the former grins. "The same! We're just making the rounds, saying goodbye to the other parents from the program... we're moving in a couple of weeks, you see? I posted it on the forum, but we haven't heard anything from Ashley. She's normally so active, so it seemed strange..."

You don't catch the final tidbits of his rambling, as it takes a precious minute to contextualize them: the program, that he so vaguely talks about, was the euphemism for the Academy's segregation and protection of AGS students. The forum, an online posting system for the parents, can only be what your dead wife was typing away at when she wasn't hunting for new dick to suck... and maybe even those two activities were not as parted as you'd hope. Maybe even Jack here... but no. Your wife shopped "up", not down, and the man's frumpy outfit, cheap wristwatch and comb-over all screams fat middle-class husband.

"... so," the fat middle-class husband suddenly declares, stealing a glance past you, "is she around today?"

"Ashley died three weeks ago," you reply flatly. Your blood races as you worry that your open hostility would make them more inquisitive, but apparently it comes off as grief: both take on a stunned silence, and the daughter is the first to cast her eyes down.

"I'm sorry," comes the sweetest, high-pitched voice. It takes you a moment to realize it came from the daughter, barely whispered at is was. Nothing like her father, then, and beautiful even in her sincere grief.

"I-I'm sorry, Leonard, I didn't... no one told us online so... so some just figured she finally withdrew and- God, I'm sorry," he apologies again, for something not said, and then once more, "I'm sorry."

"Thank you... well, unless there's something else to say, I wish you-"

"There is!" His interruption is abrupt, even ****. A new guilty look crawls into his eyes... and your experience in management in office settings tells you he needs a favor, and now he needs to ask it of a grieving husband and father.

Well, presumably grieving. "How can I help?"

His eyes light up. "W-Well, may we... come in, to talk about it?"

You guide them in, alarmed at the prospect of any sign of your raunchy rapes of your handicapped lesbian stepdaughter (you almost feel a smidgen of guilt once the full weight of it is put out there in your mind) lying around the house. Of course there aren't; you've been overly cautious, something you judged yourself harshly for until now as it pays its dividends. You offer them tea, a curiosity in American manners in this day and age but one you were raised to perform. "Well, Jack," you try to casually declare as you pour the cups, "what brings you into my home?"

"Well, I told you I was moving, and that much is true... thing is, it's not by our design. We're stuck moving in with her parents, since they're the only ones up north, and I might not have another... that is, I'm looking to get employed over in Milwaukee." Fired from his job and lost his home, then. Surely he didn't have a slut wife to blame for it, so you find no pity for the sad sack. "And the wife's got family up there, but... well, one of 'em is a... he's got a... look," he says defensively, as if you had pressed anything before now, "he was a sex offender, alright? Sure, a decade ago, but the man attacked some poor girl and... and what am I supposed to do with my Penny if he can just talk her into all sorts of Hell?"

Penelope looks down into her tea cup, clearly ashamed. "I'm sorry, daddy."

"Don't be honey, it's not- it's not your fault. It's his! See, Lenny?" You hate that nickname. "I can't take my little girl up there, not until I earn enough to- I mean, not until I find a good home for us. So I've been looking around, seeing if anyone would take care of my poor daughter, but someone I know can be trusted... and really, besides parents that know the burden, who could be? Well, you and..." He doesn't repeat your wife's name, for which you're thankful. "I know you know what it's like to raise a daughter with AGS in this day and age, what with the internet and predators and such. Your wife is... was a strong advocate for all kinds of security."

"Daddy?" Isabella's voice freezes your blood; it was a quick shower apparently, and now she cautiously climbs down the stairs while wearing a tight pair of jeans and t-shirt. She was clothed.

You sigh happily... and with relief that your instructions took root. "Come on down, sweetie, I'm here with Mr. Percy and his daughter, Penelope-" You notice Penelope turn. Isabella turns to look at her. Their eyes meet... a blush blooms onto the young white girl's face, and you know you've never seen Isabella smile like that, save when you told her that you were her long-lost father. They've connected... and it doesn't seem unfamiliar. "Have you two met?"

"Yeah..." Penelope's voice is dream-like, and her blush deepens. Isabella nods with wide eyes, as if suddenly aware of you.

"Yep, they were in the same grade!" the oblivious Jack Percy announces. "See? They'd get along just fine and- and I'd compensate you soon as I can, but things are..." Jack looks around, now suddenly aware of all the witnesses of his position.

"Say no more, Jack... if you want Penelope to live here in my house, alongside Isabella," you pause to watch the electricity shoot through your rapebait, and the deepening of red in her obvious crush's face, "then I understand."

"Oh thank God- thank you, Lenny!" The man looks to be on the verge of tears. He continues to blubber happily, standing up from the opposing loveseat to shake your hand with both of his meaty paws. "We were really worried... I mean, I appreciate it, really I owe you big on this one! So many bad guys out there that- I know you know, so-"

"Please, Jack," you laugh.