"How long have you known the detective, " Ciara asked, Lucky Spencer, her eyes darting a few feet away toward where Dante and Siobhan sat.

He laughed at something she said and dimples appeared on his face. Ciara felt her heart stop and her pulse beat quicker.

"You really like him, don't you?" Lucky observed, keeping a close eye on Dante with Siobhan. He wasn't jealous. He knew his partner wasn't interested, but the woman he was interested in worried Lucky.

"As much as any man, I guess," Ciara lied, knowing that she had never felt for anyone the way she felt for Dante Falconeri, "He's a bit protective. Has he always been like that?"

"I've known Dante since we were kids. If he's concerned and wants to keep you safe, let him, Lulu," he told her, as Ciara turned away a look of sadness on her face.

"I'm sorry. Really, Ciara. This is just hard for me. I look at you and I see my sister, Lulu."

"And I look at you and see a stranger. I'm sorry, Lucky. I doona know this Lulu," Ciara answered, her eyes filled with fear and sadness.

"I can share her with you, Ciara. I want to, if you'll let me," Lucky suggested, pulling out a photograph from his pocket. It was worn, the edges a bit torn, but the image was haunting.

"Where did you get that?" Ciara asked, staring down at an exact image of her when she was maybe five years of age. The little girl was dressed in a Yankees jersey, her blonde tresses in two braids and a baseball cap with NY embroidered on it was perched atop her head.

"It was taken just before-"

Ciara watched Dante's partner's eyes fill with tears, his face starting to redden. She was slightly uncomfortable, a part of her wanting to bolt, while the other screamed for her to listen.

"Dad had taken you to your first baseball game. You were hooked. It's all you could talk about. He even made a stupid game out of it," Lucky told her.

"Monsters," Ciara interjected, a flash of memory, hitting her, the same one she had been having more regularly now, "She looks happy."

"She is. She was. Don't you have any photos from when you were a child?" Lucky prodded, wondering what her family had told her. Did they even know?

"Da said that they were lost in a fire. The only photos I have are when I started my first year at Maple's School for Girls. Don't much remember anything else. Kiernan said the lasses teased me. That my accent was a bit odd. I remember Da telling him not to fash about it and to let me be."

"You don't remember anything before you lived with the Kelly's? In Ireland, elsewhere?" Lucky questioned, prying for information that could lead to the capture of the Balkan and dislodge the memories that he was certain were locked somewhere within her mind.

"Not a one, "Ciara lied, still troubled over the nightmare that had plagued her for years. She looked over at Dante Falconeri, her eyes full of sadness. He smiled at her, sending a reassuring look that calmed her, quieted her racing pulse. It was as if he sensed her every emotion. Could tell by just a look, or a touch what she was feeling. It troubled her, it did. The hold that he had on her.

"Well, are you up for it?" Lucky asked her, as Ciara looked to him, unaware of his question.

"I'm sorry. I doona know what you mean? Up for what? The sky is cloudy, yes. But, I think that we are safe for now."

"No, that's not what I meant, Lu-" he said, rubbing his hands over his eyes, "Ciara, I meant do you want me to tell you about her. About you?"

"Doona be silly, I know me. You canna tell me something that I doona know about myself," Ciara informed him, as Lucky waited, a bit impatiently, drumming his fingers,"Right-O. Go on, then. I will listen."

"Our father was Luke Spencer..."


"How did you two meet?" Dante asked Siobhan, his eyes transfixed on Ciara, his body in tune to her every movement.

"When we were wee lasses at a boarding school. Ciara was quiet at first. A bit stand-offish," Siobhan recalled, "She had sad eyes. The saddest I'd ever seen."

"Did she have a lot friends? Family?" Dante questioned, his detective instincts kicking in.

"Friends, no. Family? Her Da for the first few weeks, Ciara and Seamus were inseparable. The man did not want to let her out of his sight. She seemed to gravitate toward him too. Like they needed each other as anchors, you know. Her mother came by a few times too. A bit strange that. I remember all of the mutterings at the time. Mostly rumors."

"Rumors? Of what?" Dante asked, curious.

"The fact that she doona look a thing like them. Seamus had the reddest-orange hair you'd ever see, like a carrot it was. And, Ciara's mother, well she was as Irish as the day is morn. With dark sable hair and the greenest of eyes. Ciara had blonde hair and eyes with flecks of gold that sparkled with the sun."

"And people noticed?" Dante asked, wondering how many in the town knew that Ciara wasn't who her family claimed her to be.

"It was as plain as the freckles on my nose. You did not have to look hard to see. The whole town knew," Siobhan told him.

"They knew. Everyone?" Dante questioned, finding that hard to believe, "Just what was it that they thought they knew, Siobhan?"

"Well, that Ciara was adopted of course. Her family killed when she was just a wee lass."

"Of course. Seamus's story?"

"I doona know why you say it is a story, but Ciara's Da spread the word, yes."

"And they just believed him. There wasn't any proof?"

"Proof. In Ireland a man's word is as good as gold. Ciara's Da was constable. If he said it was so. It was. The Balkan...there is more to him than you are saying, yes?"

"Yes, Siobhan," Dante replied, his gaze on Ciara.

"You will protect her. Keep her safe," Siobhan sobbed, holding a secret for so long deep inside of her.

"With my life," Dante assured Siobhan, as nodded her belief in him and stood, "Then come, I have something to show you."


"Go away!" the man said, the shadows playing tricks with his eyes. The tears threatening to consume him.

She couldn't be here.

It was his guilt over what he had done.

The pain at what he had lost.

Yet, there she was as plain as the eyes could see, sitting in the shadows, her head upon her knees.

"Daddy, I'm afraid," the little girl said, her blond braids matted and her eyes filled with terror, "I can't make them go away."

"Make who go way, cupcake," Luke asked the shadow, his hands trembling, as he reached for her. She remained just inches from his touch, her tiny voice breaking his heart.

"The monsters," she whispered, her image fading before his eyes.

"She's not real. She's not real," he shouted, his hands beating upon the stone walls, the blood trickling from his newly opened wounds.

"What did you due to my baby? Where is Lulu?" he yelled, his voice echoing back at him, as he covered his eyes and brought his knees to his chest, the tears falling onto his face.


"He's gone?" Ciara asked, stunned, as Lucky revealed the fate of their father.

A part of Ciara was shaken, the news shattering a piece of her heart, a section that she didn't even know existed, "I'm so sorry," she cried, the tears falling upon her face, as she wiped them with her hands.

"What's wrong?" Dante questioned, rushing to her side, "Did he say something? Are you hurt? Tell me, baby?"

"No, doona fash yourself. I'm fine, Dante. It's just...Well, I doona know what is wrong with me. I canna feel something for someone I doona know. I canna-" she sobbed, wrapping her arms around Dante, as he pulled her into his arms and sent Lucky a scathing look.

"You told her that her father DIED," Dante mouthed, his anger evident in his eyes.

"She needed to know," Lucky whispered, as Ciara wiped her eyes, hugging Dante tightly.

"I hear your voices," she added, sniffling, "You doona need to whisper."

"I'm sorry, baby. I'm so sorry," Dante said softly, his hand stroking her back, "After what happened to your Da...this must be a total shock to you."

"My Da, Dante how do you know? Siobhan? You promised," Ciara accused, her hands shaking, her eyes blazing with fire.

"I willna lie, Ciara. He deserved to know."

"Know what?" Lucky asked, his concerned eyes focused on his sister.

"Seamus Kelly was murdered. Something that I should have known from the start, Ciara. Why?"

"I doona understand why you think it is important. My Da died when I was a wee lass,"Ciara answered.

"After he contacted Interpol, Ciara. AFTER he told them that you were not his daughter, but the missing child, Lulu Spencer. THAT you should have told me."

"I doona know who Lulu Spencer is, or was, before you fecking showed up, DETECTIVE," she shouted, shaking her fist at him.

"He was murdered because he tried to give you back," Dante yelled, reaching for her hand and pulling her closer, "He knew what he did was wrong and he wanted to make it right," he said, his voice becoming softer.

"I doona believe you. It canna be true," Ciara replied, placing her arms around his neck and holding on tight.

"Believe it, baby. It's your proof. You are Lulu Spencer. Seamus knew it and you can be sure that your mother did too," he told her, clutching her snugly against him, feeling the cries that racked her body, "Ssh, I got you. I'm not going anywhere, baby."

"After all this time, it canna be true," she whispered, the memories becoming clearer in her head. The wee lass clutching her Da's hand, the image of another standing in the shadows, the spitting image of Seamus Kelly.

"I doona know what to do. I doona know how to feel," she told him, "how did you-" she said looking at Siobhan.

"I stumbled upon some papers in your Da's office. It was plain as day. Your name, your real name on the birth statement. Lulu Spencer," Siobhan told her, the tears welling in her eyes, "I doona believe it at first, but then I followed your Da one day. I saw where he went. I saw-"

"What, Siobhan? What did you see?" Ciara asked her, suddenly afraid.

"Oh, my dearest friend. You are like a sister to me," Siobhan cried.

"What did you see?" Ciara shouted, the tears streaming down her face.

"I saw her grave," Siobhan whispered, her voice broken, "Ciara's grave."

"It's a lie. A fecking lie. My Da would tell me. HE would tell me," she yelled, turning her back to Dante, as he reached for her, pulling her back into his arms.

"He was a man grieving, Lulu. He was deeply hurt over the loss of his own daughter," he told her, holding her against him, "By the time he tried to make things right, it was too late."

"The Balkan?"

"It's very likely, but I don't know why he kept your identity a secret for so long. What's in it for him?" Dante asked, trying to make sense of it in his head.

"He killed my father," she sobbed, her head pounding with memories of a red-headed lass, their sister pact in the back of that metal box and their promise to each other.

"Ciara's father, " Dante said softly, turning her in his arms, "and your father, Luke Spencer. It can't stay a lie any longer, Lulu. You have to come out of the darkness. The bastard took most of your life. Don't let him take away who you really are. Fight, Lulu."

"She's dead. You're sure," she cried, turning toward Siobhan, "Yes, she is. I'm sorry, Cia...Lulu. I'm sorry that I canna tell you sooner. That I was afraid."

"He canna get away with it. I willna let him. He has to be stopped," she told him, looking at Dante and turning to his partner, Lucky.

"I know that you doona know much about me, but I want to know more, will you help me?"

"Help you?" Lucky asked, as he looked back at his sister, whose gaze was now more determined than ever.

"I want to meet her, your Laura. Will you take me to her?" she asked.