A/N: I know, I know it's been awhile since I've updated this story, but I promise you I have not forgotten about it! A lot has been going on with me, but the important thing is that I'm back!! This story is complex and the ride is going to get even bumpy in the future, so hold on to your seats, folks!

I want to take this opportunity to thank my fans! First and foremost, I want to give a HUGE shout-out to my best friend in whole wide world, Katelyn (a.k.a: DarkAngelElektra). She's the one who introduced me to FanFiction and has encouraged me to strive better in my writings. And I can't thank her enough. She's been so supportive whenever I've hit my writer's block. I am a HUGE fan of her stories, especially the Batista ones! So if you haven't read any of her 12 stories, you are definitely missing out! I would like to dedicate this NEW chapter to her.

I'd like to give a shout-out to Esha Napoleon, RKOsgirl92, CerebralPrincess, and beautifultragedyxxx for reviewing the last chapter! You guys are amazing!! Thank you so much for your support.

Okay, enough chit-chat! Read, review, and enjoy this chapter!!


Chapter 7: The Living and The Dead

Regina snuck out of the medical examiner's office without notice. While scurrying down the hallway, she managed to take a glimpse inside the waiting room where she saw a large, massive figure standing near the window. His head was bowed.

Her heart went out for her brother-in-law. She cared about him deeply. As much as she wanted to offer more support, Regina remembered the words Batista said to her in the examining room.

Stay out of my way.

Maybe it's best, Regina thought. She knew exactly what he was going through. Like Batista, she didn't want to be consoled at the moment. After seeing Angie's body, her brain was clouded with even more confusion. She had to go somewhere where she could clear them all up. Somewhere she could find some answers on Angie's death. Somewhere other than home.

Center City was a bustling hub during the afternoon rush hour. Scores of taxis, SEPTA busses, and honking tractor trailers clogged heavy traffic flow. After walking four blocks to her place of destination, Regina wondered if she would ever find a taxi. Suddenly, she saw a bright, yellow taxi drop off a married couple about 20 yards away. Regina waved her hands and sprinted towards the awaiting vehicle. Fortunately, the taxi driver noticed and motioned for her to get in. Regina climbed in the taxi with ease. As she settled herself, the driver turned around and opened the gliding window that separated the back and front seats.

"Where to, maam?" the driver inquired.

"1700 Ritner Street, please," the young passenger answered.

"Thank you very much," Regina replied as she paid the driver for the eight-block ride.

"Do you need me to wait for you?" the driver asked.

Regina shook her head and smiled. "No, thank you. I'll be fine." With that, the driver nodded and then sped away down the narrow, one-way street. If Regina thought that she could escape the cold whiff of air in the examiner's office, she was wrong. The blustery, cold wind was heavily induced with force as Regina adjusted her blowing hair and scarf.

As she turned around to face the large building, she felt her spirit being drawn to the large marble columns. Maybe it was a guarantee that she would get some answers. It was the one building that, in the past, had given her strength and spiritual guidance. She had finally arrived at her place of destination.

Saint Monica Catholic Church.

Her family had worshipped there since emigrating to Philadelphia. The church was affiliated with a private school, where Regina and her siblings had graduated. She and her family were devout members of the church and were well-known by the congregation because of their involvement in many activities like spaghetti dinners and food drives.

Regina opened one of the large doors and entered the sanctuary. She looked around. The hall was somewhat dim and deathly quiet. There was something about this church that made Regina felt a sense of security every time she entered. It was if God welcomed the young martyr with open arms. On the other hand, it seemed she was the only person because the only sounds she heard were the tacking soles of her footsteps as she made her way down the aisle. But before she sat down, her attention span quickly focused on a glowing object. She turned and saw rows of brightly lit votive candles on the far side of the altar. In the Roman Catholic church, the candles are lit for prayer intentions. Without hesitation, Regina walked over to the other side and lit two candles. One for Angie, and another for her father. She bowed her head and silently prayed for the two lights in her life, who were now reunited in Heaven. Afterward, Regina looked up at the statue of the Blessed Virgin Mary. As if the spirit made a uncanny connection with her soul, its sight made Regina's heart sunk and her eyes welled up with tears.

"Please," Regina tearfully said to the statue. "Please take care of my sister and my father for me." She could feel the tears streaming down her face. "I miss them so much. Please protect them at all costs. Please protect my family…" Her voice quivered. "…and my girls." With that, Regina covered her face with her hands and sobbed.

The young Catholic was too caught up in her sorrow that she jumped when she felt a hand touch her shoulder. "God will protect your family," said an elderly man from behind. Startled, Regina quickly turned around and saw the man in a black robe. Her nerves subsided when she realized who it was.

"Father Frank?" she wiped away the excess tears with her hands. She didn't hear the gray-haired pastor of the church coming in. She was glad to see him though. "I'm sorry, Father, but I thought I was the only one here. You kinda scared me."

Father Frank lightly chuckled. "I'm sorry I did that. I didn't mean to," his husky, robust voice echoed from all four corners of the church. "I was in the back putting something away, and I was getting ready to leave when I heard a voice out here. I wanted to see who it was. I'm not surprised that it was you."

"So I'm guessing you know about Angie," Regina murmured, her face turned serious.

The gray-haired pastor let out a light sigh. "Unfortunately, I do. It's a terrible, terrible thing," He nodded in discontent. "I am so sorry for your loss."

Regina felt a gush of emotion formulating in her system. She tried hard to suppress it. "You know, the reason I came here was to get some answers. I have so many questions. I want to know why. Why did she have to die? Why now?" Her quivering voice augmented in volume. "Why didn't it have to happen again? What did we do wrong to deserve this?"

Father Frank extended his hand. "Come on, let's sit down and talk." He accompanied Regina to one of the mahogany pews. "It's normal to have lots of questions. You came to the right place." He sat down next to Regina. "Death is an unfortunate circumstance, but it's part of the circle of life. First, you are born into the world, then you live, and then you enter into eternal life."

"I know about the circle of life, Father," Regina countered. "Mom always says we are here on a journey. What I don't understand is … why did it have to happen so soon?"

"We are all God's children, Regina. In the end, we all have to go to Heaven at some point," Father Frank tried to explain. "Your sister was a wonderful girl. She was so full of life, full of spirit. Even though, you may not see her or hear her every day. Her spirit is alive. Her spirit will continue to live forever."

As Father Frank tried to make light of the situation, Regina found it hard to digest his words. "I don't know about this time around, Father." She shook her head. "My family's been through so much. I mean, I was Carrie's age when my father died, and it still hurts to this day," Her voice cracked with emotion. She squeezed her eyes shut. "And now history is repeating itself. My little nieces lost their mother, and they won't have one memory of her, just like I don't have one vivid memory of my father!"

"How's Dave doing?" Father Frank asked.

"He's not good," Regina answered. "He's taking it hard like the rest of us. I've tried to reach out to him, but he doesn't want anything to do with me or anybody else. He growls whenever I approach him. It's like he wants to be left alone."

"Everybody has their own way of grieving," the pastor replied. "You just gotta give him some time. I'm sure he'll come around."

"I'm so worried about him, Father," she confessed. "I'm worried about my nieces. Who's going to take care of them?" Regina stared at the front of the altar. Her face grew more solemn. A slight pout surfaced on her lips. She shook her head in dismay. "I don't think…" She began to whisper softly. Father Frank could barely hear her. She hesitated, looking down for a moment. "I have a bad feeling that we won't be able to move on from this tragedy, especially after the funeral tomorrow." Regina looked up and faced the pastor. "Probably not ever."

Father Frank was a little shocked at the pessimism in Regina's voice. It was so unlike her. He tried to reason with her. "Regina, I am not going to lie to you. Angie's death is a tough pill to swallow. But if there's one thing certain about your family, it's that you all are very strong people. To be honest, Angie's death is not something you can get over. Like any other death, it's something that you have to live with for the rest of your life. With time, things will get easy."

As much as Father Frank's words were difficult to digest, Regina knew he was right.

"Losing a dear loved one is the hardest thing a person has to endure," Father Frank held up his index finger to indicate a point. "Like I said to you before, their bodies may be dead, but Angie's spirit and your father's spirit are very much alive …" He pointed towards Regina's heart. "…in you."

Regina nodded in agreement. "I know."

"You know even though Angie is dead, Carrie and Athena are the luckiest girls in the world," Father Frank smiled.

"Why?" Regina looked at the pastor in bewilderment.

"Because now, they truly have a guardian angel watching down on them," Father Frank replied. "And Angie's resting in peace knowing that her devoted sister will protect them and will never lose sight on the spirit that lives within her."

This time, Regina did smile. She was flattered by her pastor's remarks. "Thank you, Father." She was still upset about Angie's death, and tomorrow's funeral would be the toughest day of her life. But if what Father Frank said was true, Regina hoped that Angie's spirit would give her the confidence to get through the day tomorrow.

Regina looked down at her watch. It was getting late. "I should get going or else my family will get worried." She packed up her things. As she stood up, Father Frank took hold of her hand. "Before you go, let me say a prayer for you." Regina looked down and nodded. She sat back down, and the gray-haired pastor closed his eyes and placed his hands on Regina's head. He whispered a short prayer. Afterwards, both of them did the sign of the cross. "I'll see you tomorrow morning, Father," Regina replied as she stood up.

"Have a good night, Regina," Father Frank nodded. "I will keep you and your family in my prayers."

The pastor watched Regina as she walked up the aisle and out of the church. When the door clicked shut, Father Frank turned to face the front of the altar. He lowered the leathery kneeler below and knelt down. With his hands clasped together, he stared at the cross. After reciting the Our Father and the Hail Mary, the pastor uttered the following prayer on behalf of the Del Piero and Bautista families:

Merciful Father, hear our prayer and console us.

As we renew our faith in your Son,

Whom you raised from the dead, strengthen our hope that all of our departed brothers and sisters will share in his resurrection, who lives and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit,

One God, forever and ever.

Amen.


"I-I'm confused. What do these numbers mean?" Batista asked, holding a thick packet of white documents in hand.

Inquisitive to get to the bottom on the exact cause of Angie's death, Batista received a call on his cell phone from Chief Mentzer regarding new information on his wife's case. Feeling the need for speed, the massive widower raced out of the medical examiner's office and arrived at the police station in less than ten minutes. Chief Mentzer escorted him to one of the interrogation rooms and handed him a packet containing a list of phone numbers.

"These are the phone numbers that were called and received in the past month on your wife's cell phone," Chief Mentzer explained. "Each number listed contains the date and time of when it was received."

Batista skimmed through the pages of the documents. He noticed that most of the phone numbers were from out of town. In fact, most of them had different area codes from different states, including a 213 area code from Los Angeles and a 704 area code from Charlotte, North Carolina. Batista understood the reason. Whenever he got back to his hotel room after his matches, he would always call Angie using the room phone. "I don't understand. Most of these calls were from me. What does this have to do with,-"

Chief Mentzer interrupted him, "We have reason to believe that your wife might have been distracted at the time of the crash."

"WHAT??" Batista looked at Chief Mentzer in astonishment. He couldn't believe the police chief's assumption. He was crazy for coming up with such a far-fetched concept. "What do you mean by distracted?"

The police chief pulled up a chair and sat down next to the young widower. He took the packet from Batista and flipped it over to the last page. Batista recognized the date at the top of the page.

It was the day that Angie died. That day would be etched in his memory for the rest of his life. Batista felt a little overwhelmed. He still didn't know where the police chief was going with his observation. He looked down at the sheet. There were ten calls received that day. Batista had called his wife seven times. Angie had received another call from her work, and there were two more calls from the 215 area code.

"We think your wife was talking on her cell when the accident happened," the police chief explained. "Our investigation indicates that the crash occurred between 8:10 and 8:15 that night. As you can see..." He pointed to the sheet. "…the last two calls were received prior to that."

Batista examined the last two calls Angie received. "It says here that the first call occurred around ten to eight," he said.

Chief Mentzer nodded. "That's correct. And that call was quickly lost, but a second call to your wife's phone was made five minutes later … by the same number. That call lasted ten minutes. We found Angie's cell phone in the car. The phone was still open." He looked at the young widower for some answers. "Do you recognize this number?"

Batista stared at the number in front of him. His heart sank. His facial expression turned to a complete halt, almost emotionless. He knew very well whose number it was, but he wished it wasn't true. He glanced over at Chief Mentzer and nodded. "It's my sister-in-law's."

He glanced down at the number again. Though he wasn't showing any expression on the outside, a burst of anger ripped through his insides. A volcanic eruption hot fury boiling in his veins coupled with sharp, agonizing pain that was tearing his heart to pieces. His thoughts were pounding against his skull like metal chairs. He was trying to make sense out of this whole new information.

"Do you mean to tell me that even though this was a head-on crash, Angie and the baby could still be alive had she not been on the phone?" Batista demanded, his tone was brusque.

"There would have been a small chance, but possibly," the police chief responded.

Batista tried to wrap his head around the fact that Regina was the last person Angie talked to before she died. He knew that the sisters were close, but he couldn't figure out what was worse: that Regina called her sister or that she had put her sister's life in danger.

No… he thought to himself. Worse is the fact that Regina killed her sister. That one call killed Angie and my baby. She robbed me of another chance of happiness. She took away my life. I told her to stay out of my way, but she wouldn't listen.

Batista shot up from his seat, grabbed his leather jacket and bolted out of the interrogation room. Chief Mentzer called after him. "Mr. Bautista…Mr. Bautista!" But Batista paid no attention. He didn't want to listen any more gory details about the crash. He was too heartbroken, too angry. In his mind, there were two people who killed Angie. If the police was going to deal with the drunk driver, then he was going to deal with Regina.

Batista pushed through the police station door, storming out into the dark night. The wind brought a deafening icy breeze in the air, which complemented the Animal's heart at this point. He veered to the right and walked down the sidewalk to his car. While walking, Batista kept repeating the same phrase over and over again.

She's going to pay for this.