"Great job Liz, way to go!" Liz cringed as Isabel Evans stepped into the room, the last thing she needed was Max's sister seeing her like this, "need a hand?"

"Yeah, maybe a little." Isabel helped Liz to her feet. Liz stepped toward the closet to get a broom, carefully keeping her face away from Isabel's prying eyes.

"Liz, ummm ... Do you know where Maria is, Michael's looking for her. He's going crazy trying to find her. I think something happened between those two, I've never seen him act this way." Isabel picked up the broken plates and fixed them with a slight wave of the hand. Liz carefully dropped to her knees and collected the fallen food.

"I don't really know, I haven't seen her all day. You could try at the library or the movies." She stood up and started sweeping ::Please go away, just leave, please:: She could feel Isabel's eyes bore into the back of her head. "So, do you want anything to eat? We just got a huge case of tabassco sauce." Liz reached up to grab a bottle when she heard Isabel gasp.

"Liz, oh my god! What happened to your arm, are you alright?" Isabel frantically tried to see Liz's face which was turned away.

"Nothing, I ... I fell, that's all, nothing big." Liz quickly pulled the sleeve of her t-shirt over the large scratches and raised welts that criss crossed over her upper arm. She could see Isabel's frown in the shiny kettle on the stove. "I hit the corner of the desk."

"Five times? Liz? What is going on?" Isabel ran around the counter and turned her friend by the shoulder, carefull not to touch the cuts. "Liz, lying isn't goin ... OH MY GOD!!!! Your face!! What happened? Did you hit the bed too? I'm not stupid. What is Max going to say and who or what did this? Did Max ..." Isabel bit her lip, not able to finish for fear that it was true. Liz brushed the rest of her hair back, feeling very vunerable and embarassed. She flinched as her slight hair hit her black eye and the tender skin of the bruise on her high cheekbones and forehead.

"No one did this to me. And Max isn't going to say anything and your not going to tell him. No, don't give me that look Isabel. This is my business and I can handle it on my own, I don't need your or Max's help." She turned away, confused by the look of concern on Isabel's face. ::Is that her look of pity? Why does she care so much, for me, or for her brother's protection? Does she think I'll slip? I'm not that easy to get information out of:: Isabel stepped forward and gently touched Liz's battered face.

"Liz, I'm so sorry. Who did this? Tell me." With a sweep of her hand, the scratches, welts and bruises all disappeared. Without a word, Liz turned around and slowly lifted her shirt up over her back, exposing long bleeding cuts that seemed to be from either a whip or leather belt. Isabel's hand moved again and they were gone. "Liz, this is serious. I mean, c'mon, those ... Well they were pretty fresh."

Liz swung back around, a determined look on her face. "Isabel, are you my friend? Yes or No?"

"Well, yes I guess ..." Isabel blinked as Liz cut her off.

"Yes, that's right. And I kept your secret, so can you do me a favor and keep mine. This is very serious and so I want you to not tell anyone. You have to promise. But not because I kept your secret for so long but because we are friends. You must promise me not to tell Max, promise Isabel." Liz stared straight into Isabel's eyes, not daring to move a muscle.

"Alright, I promise. I promise that I will not tell Max anything." Isabel swallowed nervously. She looked at Liz's set face and then made a point to look at her watch and fake a gasp. "Look at the time, I have to go, Mom is expecting me home for dinner." She stepped toward the door.