Chapter Eight

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EDITED AS OF OCTOBER 28, 2016

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By the time the next week had rolled around, Stephen still hadn't come home. Rachael had quietly cried herself to sleep a few nights. She was so worried about him. She had called, texted, emailed, FaceTimed, Snapchatted, Kiked, reached out to him through every social media possible. He hadn't responded to anything. Had she driven him away, or was he so angry at her for the accident that he had run away to avoid seeing her ever again? Rachael had considered using the "Find My iPhone" app, but if Stephen didn't want to be found, she wouldn't look for him. 

Christine kept calling Rachael to tell her that Stephen hadn't responded to her either, but she would keep trying. Rachael knew that she needed to go do her first performance of Beauty and the Beast. She played Belle. Rachael felt a lump in her throat as she realized that this was the first time ever that Stephen wouldn't be there to watch. 

While sitting in her dressing room, Rachael looked at herself in the mirror. She closed her eyes and got into character, putting Stephen as far out of her mind as possible. It wouldn't do her any good to think about him. If they never saw or spoke to each other again, they never saw or spoke to each other anymore. In a way, the accident had been her fault. If she had told him sooner to quit Snapchatting her, Stephen would have stopped and then he wouldn't have gotten in the crash.

It's all my fault... she thought, a single tear falling down her face. He was right, it's all my fault. 

Rachael wiped the tear away and forced the lump in her throat back. She was glad that she'd been smart enough to request waterproof mascara and eyeliner. Rachael made herself go back into character. She'd taken this role just mere hours before the crash, but she wished she hadn't. The director had come up to her after her performance of Mary Poppins and offered her the role of Belle. Rachael had accepted excitedly. If she had known what was to come, she never would have accepted. As she thought about it, though, it was probably better that she had her shows to do. The shows made her take her mind off of Stephen and throw her into someone else's world. Speaking of which, it was almost time for her to go up. She got up, checked her makeup, and then locked her valuables in the safe of her room. Rachael took a deep breath and walked out of her dressing room.

Showtime, she thought.

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Stephen walked through the streets of Kathmandu, lost. He'd been wandering around for hours and he still couldn't find the Ancient One's temple. He passed through another alley and looked down as he saw a dog limping on three paws. Stephen paused as the dog looked back at him. It had long, brown fur that was filthy. Stephen thought of Rachael. She loved dogs, and she'd never forgive him if he didn't help this one. Stephen got down on his knees and called out to the dog.

"Hey. Come here," he murmured. The dog turned around and limped over to him. He placed his paw in Steven's hand. "Look at you." 

The dog whimpered. He looked terrified as he let Stephen handle his injured paw. Stephen looked around and spotted a basket full of sticks. He leaned over to grab one. 

"If only you lived in New York. My best friend would take you home and make you a lapdog," Stephen's heart suddenly gave a tug as he thought of Rachael. "She goes for your type, you know. Good boy." 

Stephen snapped the stick in half and made sure it was the correct length for the dog's paw. "It's alright, don't be afraid." Stephen took the cloth off of his right hand and wrapped it around the stick so the dog's paw would heal right. "There you go." 

The dog set his paw down and looked back at Stephen. He placed his good paw in Stephen's hand, wagging his tail. "Oh, yeah, shaking my hand now. Wait till you get the bill. How's your insurance?" 

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