Alex was silent on the ride back to their school, her face paler than usual. After Olivia's father had driven off, Olivia turned to Alex. "Are you okay?"

"We went out for lunch with the man who raped your mother, Olivia," snapped Alex. "No, I'm not okay."

Olivia was angry now, and she lashed out. "He didn't rape her! She lied to me, just like she lies about everything else. And I would have thought someone as sheltered as you wouldn't even know what rape was."

She regretted the words the moment they were out of her mouth and she saw the look of abject pain flash across Alex's face. "You know, Liv, I'm only trying to help," said Alex softly.

"I know, Alex. I'm sorry. It's just – I never knew my father. I've wanted to meet him for so long, and now here he is. And I have a brother too. I've always wanted a brother. So why can't you just be happy for me?"

Alex sighed. "I don't trust him, Olivia. I had a bad feeling about him to begin with. Look, why don't you talk to your mother? Find out why she lied to you – if she lied to you."

"I can't," Olivia growled. "You know what she's like. She'll give me a spanking for arguing with her."

Alex's bottomless blue eyes were full of concern. "I know, Livvy. It's just – I don't want you to get hurt."

It would have sounded odd coming from any other nine-year-old, but Alex had always been more mature than their other classmates, which was probably why the two of them gravitated toward each other to begin with.

"I'm going to talk to my mother about it then, Liv. I don't feel comfortable –"

"This isn't your problem, Alex! If you don't want to be a part of it, fine, don't be. But it's my choice, not yours. And it's not even a problem. This is the best thing that's ever happened to me!"

"I'm not going to let you – or myself – get hurt."

"That's not your call to make. If you're my friend, then you'll do this for me."

Alex's baby blues were full of pain. "Then I guess I'm not your friend," she said softly, pulling down her sunglasses in a futile attempt to hide the tears brimming in her eyes.

And she turned and stalked away, tossing her long blonde hair as she did so and trying to pretend it didn't hurt. Olivia could see that it did, in the slight hesitation in her stride, and because she was trying to do the same thing, staring after Alex and pretending she didn't care.

She walked home by herself after school, and she thought it must be the loneliest thing in the world. She hadn't done this in years, since Alex had had the flu and had been out of school for a week. They'd been friends since kindergarten, and she'd only walked home by herself a handful of times. And when she got home, she flopped down on her bed and cried and cried. She'd lost a friend today, the best friend she'd ever had. All because of a man who'd maybe raped her mother and maybe hadn't.

She shook off the thought. How many rapists cared about their children, after all? And this was her father. She'd waited all her life for him to come along and now he was here. He was a real father, too, one who loved her. One who would give her hugs and kisses and hold her when she cried and just be with her. And she had a little brother, too! She'd always wanted a brother. And this new family of hers was more important than a fickle friend. It hurt her to think of Alex that way, but a friend who would turn her back at a time like this wasn't a real friend at all. Alex was wrong, plain and simple.

But there was a nagging feeling in the back of her mind that said Alex Cabot was never wrong. Olivia had never known Alex to be wrong about anything before.

But there was a first time for everything and she was wrong about this.

Still, she decided to take Alex's advice, even if it meant she'd be sore for the next week. She just had to try. She went to her mother's bedroom and hesitated for just a moment before knocking on the door. "Hey, baby," came a slurred voice from her mother's bedroom. She started, but then realized that her mother thought she was the boyfriend du jour who'd disappeared last night, never to return. She hoped.

"It's Olivia," she said hesitantly, nervously flexing her fingers.

"Oh." Her mother groaned in disappointment. "Where's – where'd Greggie go?"

Olivia sighed. "He's gone, Mom. Can I come in?"

When she got no answer, she took the lack of response as permission. She paused for just a second before opening the door and perching on the edge of her mother's bed.

Serena Benson was sprawled out on her bed, her eyes red-rimmed. She was clearly drunk. But Olivia had come this far, hadn't she? "Mom," she said reluctantly, not daring to move closer to her mother. "Tell me about my father."

"Wha' 'bout him?" slurred her mother. "He's a rapist. Tha's all ya need to know."

"He raped you?" repeated Olivia, her heart sinking. "Are you sure?"

That earned her an immediate, powerful slap across the face. "Ya arguin' wi' me?" asked Serena, tripping over her words.

Olivia forced herself not to clutch her burning cheek. "No, Mom, I'm just –" Then she stopped, knowing that she couldn't confess why she was really asking. "I think most rapists –"

"Whadda you know 'bout rapists?" she interrupted. "Yer just a chil'."

Olivia knew her mother was right, but she didn't want to believe that the man she'd met today was a monster. He wasn't. How could he be? He was her father and he loved her! "You're lying," bit out Olivia. It was more than wishful thinking; she believed it.

Her mother hit her again, and Olivia bit her lip to stop herself from crying out. And as her mother rained blow after blow on Olivia's tiny body, she couldn't help the thought that came to mind, that her father would never hit her.

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