For the Goddess (Part 4 of 4)

The air in Jennifer's townhouse still thrummed with the aftershocks of her anger. Peter, reeling from her outburst, found himself exiled to Laurie's empty home. The silence was thick, unnerving, broken only by the soft hum of the aquarium and the endless fizz of bubbles. Two lonely fish swam in their confined world, mirroring Peter's own isolation.

He stared at them, the glass a fragile barrier between him and the outside world. Sleep wouldn't come. His mind replayed Jennifer's words, her face contorted in fury. "You said God has plans for me... He's forgotten all about me!" The accusation echoed in the stillness.

Today, the plane ride to Dallas was a blur of muted apologies and Jennifer's distant demeanor. She wore a baseball cap, no makeup, a shield against the world. News of Denny's shooting had resurfaced, intertwined with old, embarrassing stories of her past. She was 'his stunning prodigal daughter,' returning home, bound for a fate Peter was desperate to change.

Now, the Dallas-Fort Worth tarmac stretched beneath the plane. The engines whirred, then silenced. Peter was stuck in the back, a strategic placement by Frank, no doubt, to keep him from Jennifer and Jamie, who sat a dozen rows ahead. He wondered what secrets they'd exchanged, how much of their conversation had revolved around him.