Of all the crazy, inappropriate times for this to happen, why now? He gritted his teeth in annoyance as he turned so that she couldn't see the bulge in his pants. "I suppose I should be going." Her voice betrayed her guilt.

"Please don't go!" Forgetting, he turned to face her.

"Oh." She stared at his crotch as his face burned with shame. "You do want me to stay, then."

Without a word he sat on the sofa beside her once more. She put her hand on his pants leg and slide it almost, but not quite, all the way up, then removed it. "I think it's still too soon."

"I don't have any...you know...anyway." He remembered the way Matthew had winked at him when he'd arrived. Why does everything that starts out so good always have to get so fucked up?

She nodded understanding. "But I still want you to stay," he continued. "I don't want to be alone tonight."

"Neither do I." They drank all the vodka and fell asleep together on the sofa. The telephone rang at about four in the morning, and even though Henry had a pounding headache, he got up to answer it.

"Holly?" Mrs. Koch's voice was so shrill that it made his ear ring.

"I'll get her." He shook Holly awake and handed her the receiver.

"Hello?" she mumbled. From the way she cringed, Henry could tell that her mother must be screaming at her. "I'll be right there." She hung the receiver up. "I have to go home right now. I never should have stayed this late. Mom's worried sick about me, especially after what happened to Dad..."

"Are you sure you'll be OK?" He reached for her, and she let him hold her for just a second.

"Yeah," she whispered. He felt the soft brush of her hair on his cheek as she turned to go. He watched for a long time after her car had disappeared into the distance, feeling an odd hollowness in his chest.

Several days later, Henry and Holly were together in the university's cafeteria when she grabbed his arm, digging her fingers into his flesh as she pulled him back. "That's him!" she hissed. "That's the guy who tried to run us over!"

Henry didn't recognize the other boy at all. He looked ordinary enough, slight with lanky medium brown hair, pale blue eyes, and a thin mustache. The boy looked at him, and he glanced away.

"Are you sure?" Henry whispered.

"I'm positive!" Holly replied.

Henry glanced back at the boy and saw that he was holding a couple of folders and a notebook. Moving with utmost stealth, he inched his way closer until he could see the name written on the front of the notebook. 'Max Timoshev.' He made his way back to Holly, took her hand, and led her outside. "His name is Max Timoshev," he whispered to her.

Her eyes were wide with fright. "What should we do?"

Henry's mind raced. He knew that going to the campus police would be a waste of time, as it would just be his word against Max's. He could file a complaint with the police, but he knew that they wouldn't really do anything without proof, especially since so much time had passed. Even so, he didn't want Holly to worry. "I'll take care of it," he told her.

When he got home that evening, he called Paige. "Do you remember Mom or Dad ever mentioning anyone named Timoshev?" he asked her.

"It doesn't ring a bell," she replied. "But since we're on the subject, I wanted to let you know I've been thinking about using my real middle name and calling myself Paige Mikhailevna Beeman instead of Paige Michelle Beeman."

"But why would you want to do that? For our whole lives we've been Paige Michelle and Henry Phillip Jennings. Why go and complicate things?"

"I just feel it's being more true to myself and who I really am. I've known about Mom and Dad for a lot longer than you have, you know."

"What?" Shocked, Henry almost dropped the receiver.

"Mom told me about nine years ago. It was right before she and I flew to Germany to visit Grandmother."

"So we have a grandmother? What about a grandfather?"

"Had. She died not too long after I met her. The Nazis killed our grandfather at Stalingrad."

"Nice of you to finally tell me all this."

"I was gonna wait until you were older, but the right time just never came. I'm sorry, Henry."

"Yeah, right."

"What was that about someone named Timoshev?"

"Max Timoshev. He tried to run me and Holly down in the college parking lot. I just found out what his name is."

"He tried to run you down on purpose?"

"Yep."

"My God. I don't know what to say."

A few minutes of awkward conversation followed, and then Henry hung up. I can't believe it. First my parents, and now Paige. Nobody in this family would know the truth if it bit them in the ass.

"I brought you here because I wanted to show you who he really was." It was a bright, breezy day, and Henry shivered inside his thin jacket as he watched the way the branches blowing in the wind made the sunlight seem to dance over the headstone. 'Edward James Koch, July 18, 1942-March 30, 1981. Beloved husband and father,' it read.

"To them, he was just an object standing in the way of what they wanted to accomplish," Holly was saying. "Not really a flesh and blood person at all. To us, he was so much more than that."

Aware that a simple 'I'm sorry' would be woefully insufficient, Henry had no idea how to respond. He flinched ever so slightly as Holly took his hand. "I'm not blaming you, Henry. It isn't your fault at all. I just wanted you to know."

Her hand in his was soft and moist, and his nose caught a whiff of her perfume in the breeze. They stood together for a long time, neither one of them saying a word.