A/N - I really need to work on my writing schedule. It's gotten too messed up. I missed two weeks of Don't Be Afraid, and one week of Lost & Found. I need to take a break from Tumblr and actually dedicate time to writing; which, will happen never. Hopefully, I'll write chapter 11 of this story before the next update date comes.

I try to make chapters for this story relatively short, around 2,500-3,000 words, but when I was writing this chapter, I kind of went too far and it ended up being 6,000 words. Sorry if you like short chapters (The last chapter of Don't Be Afraid was 8,000 words. Someone take my computer away from me.)

DISCLAIMER: I arrived in Transylvania. I had a bit of trouble finding Jerome - apparently, people haven't seen "A boy who's way too tall for Mara Jaffray with giant hair and ice-cold blue eyes". Eventually, I found him wandering the streets, kicked out of the court room. The court took his papers, so no, I still do not own House of Anubis. Jerome and I are planning a break-in into the court room to get the papers back, because God damnit, I need to own House of Anubis. For now, though, I do not own it and I cannot make Jerome apologize to Mara except in Fanfiction. But once I own the show when Jerome and I break into the court room and steal the papers...shit is going to go down.

Nina
Chapter 10: "The Surprise"

He left Liverpool.

Two weeks ago, Fabian had to leave Liverpool for work. Possibly touring, writing, or singing. I didn't know. All I knew was that I didn't see from him or hear from him for two weeks.

That was a long time, compared. I had been talking to him by email for over two months every single day; it was weird to know I had to come home and do something other than talk to the father of my child.

So, instead, I invited Eddie over at 4. He, of course, came over at 2. He didn't even knock, since he'd been in my house too many times to count since my pregnancy. I was toying around with my phone when he ran in and collapsed on the couch in the common room.

Emma picked her head up from my lap and muttered, "Uncle Eddie?"

I laughed and rolled my eyes; Eddie had done this about ten bajillion times before. It's not like my Gran or I cared; he was around so much and he obviously cared about me and the child. "Yeah, that's right, kid," he muttered, his hands behind his head while staring up at the moving ceiling fan. "Uncle Eddie has arrived. The party don't start 'till I walk in."

"Tick Tock," I murmured, the smallest hint of a smile on my face. I pushed myself off the chair I was sitting in and grabbed Eddie's hand, which was laying limply over the side of the couch. "Come on, move your ass," I complained, attempting to pull him off the couch, but with no such luck. "Come ooooooon, move it."

"Nah, I don't want to," he remarked sarcastically. Emma had grabbed his hand and Eddie was caressing it slighty; he told me he'd always been amazed at my daughter. Me and Mara joked all the time, calling him "Jacob Black" because it seemed like he 'wanted to imprint her'. It seemed like Eddie didn't care about anything, though; he didn't make any comments at all about the Jacob Black jokes we had been making for a year and a half.

"Whatever, I'll get the food myself," I told him, in a bribe to get him to move. I just wanted to have him hang out with me and talk to me; Mara had work to do after school, and Gran was out doing errands, so I would be all alone without Fabian Rutter to talk to and I'd be super lonely. Of course, Eddie had been my first choice. And first choices aren't always such good ideas.

"Food?" he perked up when he heard his favorite word. "Get out of the way, bitch, I was wondering why I smelled ham."

I laughed as he pushed me behind him as he ran into the kitchen; I had made ham sandwiches for Emma and I to eat, if we really were going to be left alone. I loved my daughter more than anyone else in the world, but as a seventeen year old Mum, it wasn't always easy to take care of her.

It was still unreal to me. It had been unreal since the morning of May 25th, 2010, when I pushed my daughter out of me. It was weird; I had a child at sixteen, because I was careless with a boy I really, really liked. I liked him so much that I didn't even care that I didn't know his name. I sent him the photograph because he had to know what happened in result of the night we slept together.

I was a coward. When I woke up the next morning, in a bed with a man I barely knew, I ran out. I didn't stay to ask his number or, God forbid, his name. I put on my clothes and ran out, leaving the man without as much as of a note, much less information to find me. All I knew was that I might be pregnant at fifteen. And, well, I was.

People at my school claimed I was "obsessed" with him, because I actually spent my time getting to know him over photos and interviews. I could never explain the pain I felt when he wasn't by my side, and Emma was left without a father and a mentally instable mother. I listened to him sing, which I actually heard the night we met; he was singing to me before he started to remove my bra strap and chaos wrecked. I liked him as a person and a singer, and I spent my time learning about him, while he wasn't thinking of the time he lost his virginity to a fifteen-year-old girl he met at a coffee shop in his hometown. I never even gave a thought to reconciling with him, because that wasn't right and would never work.

That was why I was beyond surprised when Fabian suddenly appeared at my doorstep and begged me to work things out with him. I never thought it would work. But the photograph reached him and we started to talk. Emma had a father and I had someone to fall back onto if anything bad happened to our dysfunctional family.

"Hey, is Nina Martin in there?" Eddie questioned, waving his hand in front of my face, his mouth stuffed with food. "Earth to Nina?"

"Huh?" He broke me out of the trance I was in. I watched Eddie eat his pre-prepared ham sandwich while holding Emma's hand under the table. I guessed that she inherited the shyness from her father, because I was more of a people-person.

Eddie and I had been friends ever since I moved here; we were both Americans, so it made sense why we instantly hit it off. You're attracted to someone who's like you; and in the sea of Brits, I found an American. He told me that he moved in with his dad when his mom died in America, so he was trying to make amends with his father, who had left when his parents got a divorce many years ago, and from the way they were acting, they were about 45% through with total forgiveness.

Eddie and I were best friends for a while, being in a lot of classes together and such. We had been best friends since our second year of high school. He came over my house so much that he didn't have to knock even before I became pregnant. We knew each other better than anyone in the world.

And yeah, sure, maybe I did have a little crush on him back in the day, but it wore off. I realized that I could never think of Eddie as anything but a friend. We just weren't made for that.

Right after Mara Jaffray joined our group, she had said she envied our friendship. 'We worked so well together', she said. I supposed that was true; after I had met Fabian and gotten pregnant with his child, he protected me. Mara was new at that point, so she was still shy towards us, but Eddie was full out Regina on anyone who dared to make a snarky comment. It wasn't like I needed him; I was a strong enough person to handle any bullies that ever came my way. But Eddie has always found a need to protect me.

Whether it be taking his coat off and putting it around me, wearing a short-sleeved shirt in the rain, or pushing me out of the way when a bitchy teenager pushed a shopping cart towards me in the parking lot of the market, Eddie has always protected me. And I've been there for him as well.

Mara was busy today, studying for a test in one of her extra subjects, so it was just me and Eddie today.

In the past two weeks, I'd talked to Mara and Eddie, of course, but it was weird to come home and not take out my laptop to start up a new conversation with Fabian about how the weatherman was wrong about the weather or how annoying Aaron was being. It had become a habit and it felt good to talk with him; after three full years of having no contact with Fabian Rutter, I felt I was doing something good with my life as a teenage parent. Emma deserved to have a father.

Eddie and I were comfortable around each other, obviously, so he didn't care that he was talking with his mouth stuffed with ham (but then again, he probably wouldn't care if we were around complete strangers.) "So, what's up? What have you been doing out of school lately?"

"Oh, nothing," I lied; but it wasn't actually a real lie. Lately, I hadn't been talking to Fabian, since he was out doing who-knows-what and hadn't heard from him in two weeks, but before that I was talking to him every day. I hadn't told anyone that I was emailing the famous singer. "What about you? Any progress with your dad?"

He shook his hand back and forth, conveying the message Eh. We went fishing the other day and he caught a massive fish. He took a picture with both of us in it, and I don't want you getting hold of it, because you'll find it and you'll use it as blackmail against me."

"Hah," I laughed, but I don't think Eddie caught it, as he stuffed his face with more ham. Emma moved over from me to Eddie, at the other side of the table. Eddie noticed the two-year-olds arrival and picked her up under her arms and placed her on his lap.

I realized how different Eddie and Fabian acted towards Emma. Fabian was always awkward around Emma; I could tell he still wasn't used to the sentence, "I'm a dad". Eddie, on the other hand, treated her as if she were his own daughter. Even the smallest action such as picking her up off the ground conveyed that.

"So, Pumpkin, what have you been doing lately?"

Before I could even comprehend what Emma was saying, she spilled the beans. Let the cat out of the bag. Any cliché you could think of, she did.

"Daddy!" she exclaimed, moving to a more comfortable position on Eddie's lap. Sure, I was taken by surprise the slightest bit, but even Eddie knew I wouldn't go so far as to meeting up with Fabian Rutter. He knew who Emma's father was; it took a bit of persuading, but eventually he started to believe me. He knows who Fabian is the Emma; he would know that I'd know better not to mess with Fabian's life this early. It would be the right thing to do.

Oh well.

Obviously, since Emma was only two, Eddie's normal response, in a careful tone, was, "Emma, you have to understand that your daddy isn't here. He left a long time ago, okay? But wherever he is, I'm sure he loves you...even if he is somewhere in this country without the knowledge that he has a daughter..." he muttered the last part, and with every ticking second, I began to feel guiltier and guiltier.

I should've told him. I couldn't told him. But I didn't tell him. And in precisely one minute, I would pay the price.

"No," Emma began, ruining my life, "I saw him! He was in here!"

He took a deep breath, and brushed a tiny, thin strand behind her ear.

Eddie always loved Emma. Not in a Jacob Black kind of way, but how Emma loved Eddie as a niece. We were like siblings, so Eddie was Emma's uncle. She saw him so much in her short two years of life, that I'm sure he'd be etched into her memory, even if one day he, say, got hit by a car and killed, and Emma didn't see him when she was older.

It was scary to think about. Emma was going to grow up. She was going to get taller, her shoe size was going to increase, and her boobs were going to grow. Emma, in 2023, was going to be a teenager and would be a rebellious one at that, inheriting the trait from Uncle Eddie (even though apparently he got hit by a car and killed.)

"You'll still be here, right?" I tried to ask the question softly, before Emma could continue, but it probably ended up sounding threatening. "In 2023, when Emma is thirteen and she's a rebellious teenager, you're going to be here to send her to her room and make her think about what she's done, right?"

He chuckled, finally finishing his ham sandwich. He licked his fingers, trying to scrape some of the leftover ham from beneath his fingernails. "Yeah, of course," he began, "and if even if I did leave, I think you'd just find me and drag me by the ear back to your house."

I laughed, because he was right. I needed him in my life, and so did Emma. If he left, I probably would drag him by the ear back to Picton.

I decided to voice my thoughts of beforehand. "What if you were hit by a car and killed in 2020?"

"Who's driving the car?"

Eddie Miller: hit with a question involving dying, and the only thing he asks is who the murderer was.

"I don't know," I laughed, looking at Eddie's questioning hazel eyes. "Um, Elvis Presley."

I didn't know if Eddie wasn't in the mood for jokes or if he harbored an extreme love for the King of Rock and Roll, but he decided to say, "Elvis Presley is dead. That is disrespectful."

"Yeah," I retorted, "And so is your mother but you've told me about a bajillion times that 'John Travolta killed her'."

"Hey, the photograph of the drunk driver looked like John Travolta!"

"So you really think that John Travolta traveled to Los Angeles, partied too hard and got drunk, then proceeded to drive while under the influence and hit your mom, out of all the cars on that road?"

"Yes. So, now who killed me? Be realistic here. I'm trying to imagine my death." He sucked in a deep breath of air, and closed his eyes. He was obviously tying to picture his deathbed, so I decided to describe it more in detail.

"The date is June thirteenth, 2020. You, Eddison Carl Miller, are twenty-five years old. It is a beautiful summer day; the sun is high and bright in the sky, the birds are chirping, and the leaves are restling in the warm wind. You are driving along a road in this neighborhood, when suddenly a drunk driver that looks surprisingly like Elvis Presley comes smashing into you. Your head hits into the steering wheel so fast that you're dead before the air bag is released. There is no pain; only Blood is seeping out of a small cut in your head. A few minutes later, police officials arrive at the site of your death. They rush you to the hospital, but you're already dead. Lucifer has claimed your soul."

Before I count continue, Eddie interrupted me with, "Are you suggesting that I am going to Hell?"

Trying to hide my smile, I said simply, "Yes," and continued, "Lucifer is dragging you under from above. You are kicking and thrashing, desperate to stay on Earth. You have tried so hard to do good - which is the understatement of the century - but Lucifer silents you and you are taken down to hell. Your dad, Mara, Emma, and myself are standing over your dead body in the hospital, while your soul is burning in the pits of Hell. Mara is openly crying, because let's face it she would cry if she had to kill an insect, and your dad doesn't know how to be a proper dad yet so he's not crying but is kind of choking up. Emma is looking confused while she holds my hand, and, well, I'd probably be an emotional wreck. Someone would have to take me away because I was crying so hard.

"Eddison Carl Miller died at the hand of a drunk driver on June 13th, 2020, when Emma is ten years old. How do you feel?" I finished the description of Eddie's death, and he opened his eyes. He cocked an eyebrow, and I tried to suppress my laughs. I was holding in a gaffaw when he finally comprehended the entire description.

"So Elvis Presley rose from the dead, killed me by drunk driving, and I went to Hell."

I nodded, still failing to hold in my giggles. He sent me a glare, and moved his gaze to Emma, who was still sitting on his lap. "Let's just hope that doesn't happen to you, little one," he tapped Emma's nose, and Emma released a small giggle before Eddie continued, "You already lost your father. You don't need to lose Uncle Eddie at the hand of drunk driving on June 13th, 2020, when you're ten."

"Oh, no," Emma began, "I saw Daddy!"

Eddie took in a deep breath. "Maybe on a computer screen?" he suggested, knowing that Fabian Rutter wouldn't step foot into my house - oops.

"No!" Emma cried, her two-year-old self growing exasperated at her seventeen-year-old Uncle. "I saw Daddy! Here! In house!"

I was slowly slinking under the table, trying to get away from Eddie's stern lecture that was to come. Unfortunately, he saw me moving under the table, and picked me up by the ear and sat me in the chair next to him. Emma was running away, towards the living room, and I was forced to endure the argument.

"What does Emma mean by 'I saw Daddy in the house'?" He decided to start off simple.

I shrugged, trying to avoid his gaze by attempting to look for my daughter. "Dunno," I said absentmindly, not paying a lot of attention to the boy sitting next to me. "She probably just wants to think she has a father. You know, with me being a single mother, it can get stressful and Emma probably picks up on a of the stress in my life - "

"Can it, Nina," Eddie said. I grit my teeth; he was already suspecting. I decided to change my lie around a little bit.

"Oh, two year olds!" I tried to blow it off, making a movement with my hand. "They have such big imaginations. She wants to believe she has a dad, and she knows what he looks like, so she's probably imagining him in the house but -"

"The truth, Nina." Eddie could see right through my lies. I'd been a horrible liar my entire life; and I didn't magically become a better liar today. Eddie looked me straight in the eye, and I could tell there was no kidding around here.

I didn't really want to tell him. I felt like Fabian and me - everything we'd talked about and discussed since I sent him the photograph - was between us, and only us. Two weeks ago, before Fabian fell off the face of the Earth, he'd introduced me to his friends.

And that was a big step. I wasn't ready for it. I spent three years away from Fabian; I didn't want to move too fast. But my pace was too slow for Fabian, obviously; I had already been to his house, learned about his life at home, and met his friends. Meanwhile, Fabian didn't as much as know my dead parents names. I wasn't ready to be moving this fast.

I didn't want to give in. I'd feel like I'd surrendered to him if I gave him my phone number so early and so easily; he'd be able to get in touch with me sooner. I loved Fabian, don't get me wrong; but I didn't want our relationship to be moving as fast as we already were. If we moved just a bit slower, I'd be more comfortable with him.

I didn't even know what to call our relationship. Were we just friends? In a relationship? What were were? As far as I was concerned, we were just friends. I didn't want us to be any more than that. I wasn't ready to be in a relationship with him; if he ever wanted us to go out on dates and hold hands and be romantic, he'd have to earn the right to do so. We were cowards when we met, not to mention scared; I was the one to run out after I'd woken up. After all, I was only fifteen.

It was weird. We'd both aged, obviously - I was fifteen when I met Fabian in the coffee shop, and now I was seventeen; Fabian was sixteen when he met me and now he was nineteen. I don't think he'd be as open towards me if he was younger; Fabian was an adult now. He knew he had to take responsibility for what he did (Because, after all, it was half his fault.), but if he was my age, I would think he'd run away.

Many teenage boys, when they get the girl of their choice pregnant, run away. The girl can't help it; she's the one pregnant. Of course, she can have an abortion if she chooses, but the boy has the ability to cower and run away.

But Fabian wasn't like that. He chose to stay by my side.

If he could take responsibility and tell, of all people, his friends, than I could tell Eddie.

"What Emma means is that for the past two months, I've been talking with Fabian by email."

His response was completely different from what I expected (for him to flip shit and tell me off); he narrowed his eyes the tiniest bit, and asked me, "By email?"

"Yeah," I replied, twisting a strand of hair around my finger. I knew I was in for it now. "By email. He came to my house two months ago and we reunited. I didn't want to give him my phone number, so I gave him my email."

I closed my eyes, preparing for a six-foot teenager to came over and yell at me for keeping this from him. I waited, but I didn't sense any people approaching. Reluctantly, I opened my eyes and saw Eddie was drumming his fingers on the table in a rhythm. I didn't say anything; I was waiting for him to start screaming. Once again, I was surprised by his actions, because the only thing he said was, "Show me the emails."

I obeyed him as if he was my father. I was closer to Eddie than I was to anyone else; I was sure he'd be upset about me keeping this secret from him. I ran up the stairs and grabbed my laptop from under my bed and ran back down the stairs, jumping on the ground from the fifth one up. I stuffed the black computer under my arm and started to walk casually up to Eddie.

"He's been away for two weeks," I began, placing the laptop on the table in front of Eddie and opening the screen, "So don't expect to see any recent messages. He's been too busy to answer my messages."

I tried to ignore him, but I heard Eddie's mutter of, "Yeah, because he's a douchebag and didn't even bother to find you three years ago," loud and clear. I rolled my eyes as I brought up my email and I showed him the recent IMs. Eddie grabbed the laptop from me and started to read the messages from the top; since August 8th, when we started IMing.

It took a few minutes. Eddie was a relatively fast reader, not to mention his bottled anger at the moment, so after about fifteen minutes, he shut the laptop closed with a snap and took a deep breath.

"Well?" I asked hopefully, wishing that he wouldn't hate Fabian. Eddie had always held a grudge against the singer; he thought that Fabian should've made an effort in finding me, and for a while I did too, but I realized that he had better things to dwell on than some girl he'd had sex with when he was sixteen. It was only one of the many times he'd have it in the majority of his life. And I would probably be only once.

"You didn't tell me about this...why?" Eddie asked, finally looking up to meet my eyes.

I was attempting to avoid his gaze. All that time, I had wanted to tell him about the emails, but I could never find the words. I held it in, but of course the guilt was eating at me every single time we discussed Emma's father. Now Eddie knew everything we'd talked about since the eighth of August, and he knew that we'd been growing as friends ever since.

What was worse was that now that he read the messages, he knew that Fabian was over my house. Judging by his expression, he realized that too; Eddie looked like a volcano ready to blow. I hurried over to his side and said quickly, "Look. We're parents. We're Emma's parents. I'm trying to make things work with him. Please understand. I know you feel protective towards me, and I'm grateful for your concern, but you need to understand that we're trying to make things work as a family. I didn't have a mother or a father growing up. I want Emma to have both."

He took a deep breath before looking me in the eyes. "Nina, I just don't want him to hurt you. He's a celebrity. A famous celebrity. He could leave you for a more famous person, or leave on a tour or something and Emma will be without a father for a while - or - he could get shot and killed by a psycho maniac and -"

"Eddie, Eddie, it's okay. We're just talking by email. I've only seen him in person four times in the last two months. That's it. Four times."

"Only four times?"

"Only four times."

He calmed down a bit after he knew the short number of times I'd actually seen the father of my child. I wished I had seen him more, but not everything can work out the way you plan.

Calming himself, Eddie moved around his chair a bit, probably to make himself more comfortable. "Nina," he began, not looking me in the eye, "You never once told me how you and him met. You said you met in a coffee shop, but nothing more than that. Why not? Why won't you tell me, of all people?"

"I'm not telling you," I snapped, moving my gaze away from him. Without even looking at him, I knew he was hurt by my outburst, so I quickly apologized and continued. "I'm sorry. But I'm never, ever telling you what happened when we met or what happened when I went back to his apartment."

He chuckled, his chest bouncing but his mouth stayed closed. "Britain most certainly is a wonderful place. Where are you going to school?"

"I don't even know," I answered, smiling a bit, "The school name isn't on the actual school. It starts with a C, though. That's all I know."

We were both smiling at each other, and I couldn't tear my eyes away from his blue eyes that only belonged to him. Mystery Boy didn't say a word; he only stared at me, and I didn't dare look away. His gaze was so captivating, making me want to learn more about him.

"What about you?" I asked, leaning forward slightly. "Where do you go to school?"

Mystery Boy didn't look much older than me. He was probably my age, maybe a year older, so I figured he must go to school too. I never saw his face in the halls of my school, so that's why I didn't recognize him.

"I go to school at a performing arts academy. My parents think I have some sort of gift of song-writing, so they're sending me there to, and I quote, 'master my gift'." He said, making air quotes with his hands.

"Do you like going there, though? Is that what you want to do?"

Mystery Boy hesitated for only a second before saying, "Yes. I love song-writing. I love it more than anything, but I don't think I want to dedicate my whole day to it, you know?" I nodded. "I kind of want to go to college before I think of a career with music."

For three years, I still remembered most of the details about the night we met. A lot was cloudy, but I still remembered it.

For three years, the only thing I remembered most clearly about him was his eyes.

xXx

He crashed on the couch once ten o'clock rolled around, but I couldn't sleep. I stayed awake, rain spilling on the windows outside, wondering what Fabian was doing at the moment.

Ever since he left Liverpool, I hadn't heard from him. No emails. Of course, it might have been a little easier to communicate if he had my phone number, but I swore to myself I'd never give him that. So I hadn't heard a peep out of him in fourteen days.

Emma was sound asleep upstairs, and Eddie was snoring contently on the couch while Mara's head was slouched on the side of the couch. After he had read my emails and criticized me for my continual use of "lol", we decided to play a bit with my daughter. I wasn't scared of leaving Eddie alone with Emma when I had to go out and get milk; in fact, when I had come back, Emma was taking a nap on Eddie's stomach and he was stroking her hair. I laughed and decided to prepare supper for the five of us, since Gran had returned and was too tired to cook, and Mara had finished studying and decided to come over.

One thing I learned that day: never let me cook supper. I set off the fire alarm not once, not twice, but three fucking times. Eddie was doubled over on the couch by the third time, snorting and laughing so hard he had to clutch his chest to keep his upright. Mara scolded me and took over, and by six o'clock, a nice supper was prepared and Gran, Eddie, Mara, Emma, and myself ate around the table. Gran went upstairs to rest her feet, Emma took her normal evening nap, and Mara and Eddie decided to watch a movie.

Eddie and I didn't tell Mara the truth about Fabian. She knew that he was Emma's father, but she was still ignorant to the fact that I had been talking to him. She still thought he didn't know he had a daughter.

I wondered what she thought of his latest interview; he had mentioned me, but didn't say my name, of course. Mara was a fan of Fabian, but she'd never admit it; she was also a fan of One Direction. She didn't know that I knew she liked Simon Cowell's boy band; if she knew, she'd probably run out screaming and throw herself off a cliff.

She tries to hide her love for Fabian, because of his connection to me, but I knew she still loved him. And that was fine; I didn't care. It wasn't like either of us were ever going to date him, like many fans of many bands thought they were.

I knew Joy Mercer, a girl from my school, liked Fabian, and I learned a few weeks ago that he was her inspiration. She knew a lot about him, but if I told her the truth, she'd laugh in my face and Patricia would probably start a rumor about what I said and bring Eddie and Mara along with me. If she knew the truth, she'd be so surprised.

I rolled my eyes at my thoughts, and picked up my computer from the ground. Eddie had read and re-read the messages a billion times, so the only time the computer was free to use was now, when he was asleep. I loaded an Internet browser and clicked on my email, but to my dismay, there were no new messages from Fabian. Today was a Sunday - you'd think he'd be free or maybe take someone's phone and email from there.

I got out of the chair I was sitting in and turned on the television. I watched a cartoon for a while, since I was too lazy to get up and change the channel, but I didn't hear much, since the volume was turned low so Mara and Eddie wouldn't wake up.

I think it was the fifth episode of the cartoon when I resorted to thinking God, can this channel ever show a different program, when there was a sound outside the house.

On instinct, I looked at the clock. The hands read 4:13 AM. I brushed the thought of the sound away, thinking it was just the wind knocking the trash can over or something, so I diverted my attention away from the sound. I didn't think it was anything. I focused my attention back on the television program and attempted to concentrate.

The sound occurred again. It did sound like a trash can being knocked over, but I wasn't sure why the wind would be this strong at four in the morning. I waited a few seconds, preparing to hear it again, but when all I heard was silence, I took in a deep breath of oxygen and laid my head back against the lounge chair I was sitting in. I closed my eyes and attempted to go to sleep, but the sound happened again.

That was when my heart rate started to pick up. It was beating out of my chest at this point; I was most certain it was a robber, and he was going to kidnap my daughter in my own house and under my own nose. I pushed myself out of my chair, grabbed the nearest pointy thing I could find (which was a broken table leg), and advanced towards the door. I was preparing to knock this robber out.

I guessed we left the door unlocked, because a figure walked in, surrounded by darkness, as the lights were turned off. I held the table leg up higher, ready to whoop some ass, but all I did was stare in shock at the figure once he had come into the light.

There was some mumbling and muttering outside, and I wasn't sure who it was, other than the person standing in my foyer at the moment. Because of the noise outside the house, Mara and Eddie stirred, and I saw them sit up. Mara looked at the person in my foyer, and her eyes widened in shock. Eddie was shaking his head and gripping Mara's wrist for dear life.

The person faced me, his features showing better once I had turned on the light.

Fabian Rutter was standing in my foyer at four in the morning. Eddie and Mara were holding on to each other, while I was holding a table leg above my head. Fabian threw his arms up and exclaimed, "Surprise!"

A/N - I'll try to get Chapter 11 up by next week, if I can finish chapter 38 by Monday; at least I have the whole weekend, ya know?

I do hope you enjoyed this chapter, and I hope you have a sparkling day~
~Julianna