A/N: Thanks to all who read and reviewed Mimi's Secret. If you're reading this fic and HAVEN'T read Mimi's Secret, I advise you to click on my name and read it. There are spoilers afoot (well it IS a sequel…) So here goes. All Melodie's POV, unless I say otherwise. She's about thirteen years old (her b-day's New Year's Day, in case you were wondering).

Oh yeah, and because as she grows up she becomes a Broadway addict, I have taken time to find songs from musicals that are relevant to the plot of the chapters. So the lyrics below are from the song "Stranger to the Rain" from the musical Children of Eden and are © Stephen Schwartz (yes, that Stephen Schwartz…)

Not the Last

Chapter 1

Orphan in the storm,

That's a role I've played before.

I've learned not to tremble

When I hear the thunder roar.

I don't curse what I can't change

I just play the hand I'm dealt.

And when they lighten up the rations

I tighten up my belt.

I won't say I've never felt the pain.

But I am not a stranger to the rain.

I sat in my bedroom, doing homework, when Mark came home from work that day. September 11, 2001. I remembered how I had seen something weird out of the window during math that morning, but our stupid teacher just ignored it. So, with my friend Beth's advice, I decided to ask Mark about it. After all, he was in charge of Buzzline's occasional non-tabloid reports. As soon as I heard him call for me (his typical, "Mellie! I'm home!), I would run over there, right?

Well, just to mess up my plans, he didn't call and announce his arrival. And when I realized he was home, he was in his own room with the door locked.

So there went asking for Mark's help. I decided to just watch Buzzline and find out.

At six o'clock sharp, Mamá and Roger got home. Buzzline had already started, so I was sitting in front of our ancient TV, watching the news (well, nothing else was on anyway!).

"Hey, baby girl," said Mamá as she walked in.

"SH! The TV!" I snapped.

"So the TV's more important than I am?" she teased.

"For the time being, yes."

"What is on that's so important?" she asked, coming next to me in front of the TV.

I couldn't talk anymore. I was too horror-struck. Footage was playing of the Twin Towers crumbling. Footage by Mark Cohen, to boot.

"Oh my God! JODER!" Mamá swore, something that she NEVER did in front of me, especially in Spanish. But there she was, swearing at the images on the TV screen.

"What's happening?" said Roger, eternally the slow one of the loft. He, too, rushed in front of the TV, blocking my view.

"Roger!" I whined. He laughed and moved out of the way, sitting next to me on the well-worn couch.

Roger stared. "Holy sh-"

"Roger, if you're going to swear, swear in another language, please." Mamá smiled and jabbed her thumb in my direction.

"Mamá, you know I hear that all the time at school, right?" I asked her during the commercial break.

"You're in eighth grade. You shouldn't be hearing swearwords in the hallways."

"Well, I do."
"Plug your ears," Roger cut in.

The phone rang.

"SPEEAAAAAAAAK!" Our answering machine chorused.

"Hey, Mel," said Beth, beginning to leave a message.

I picked up. "Beth! Are you watching Buzzline?"

"Of course I am. You should…" her voice trailed off, and when Mamá and Roger stopped trying to eavesdrop on my conversation and we all turned our attention to Buzzline, I knew why.

Alexi Darling was listing passengers on the first plane. One of them was Robert O'Kiren. Beth's dad.

"OHMIGOD!" I shrieked.

Roger snorted in amusement. I slapped him on the shoulder.

Beth was sobbing.

"I- I- If you need help, don't be afraid to ask," I told her.

"No… I couldn't… your mom and step-dad… they… you guys don't have cash to spare."

"Who are you to say that?" I asked her. "I'm so sorry, Beth. Bet that your dad, Collins, and Angel are all having some exclusive party up there."

She laughed weakly. "I've gotta go calm Mom down. I'll see you at school tomorrow."

I nodded. "See you tomorrow." We hung up.

I turned to Mamá and Roger. They looked at me sadly. The only time I had seen Roger and Mamá this sad was at Collins's funeral two years ago.

"What the hell is this going to do to everyone?" Mamá asked sadly. I shook my head hopelessly, silent tears streaming down my cheeks. Mamá pulled me into a hug. "We'll be alright, honey," she said soothingly.

I pulled away and went into my room, finding comfort in the math problems. They had a definite answer; there was reason behind them, and the answers were something I could control. Much better than my life was at the moment.