This is probably the second to last chapter in this fic...ill miss it! but anyway, i'm a sucker for endings like this, so please forgive if you dont like...love to you all!

Mimi tiredly trudged up the stairs to her apartment, her limbs heavy with fatigue and apprehension. Her mother had disappeared…not a hard feat to accomplish in New York City, but a worrisome one all the same. Mimi had gone everywhere her mother might be: the park, the flea markets, the supermarkets, Times Square…but no Mrs. Marquez. Something in Mimi felt rather glad that there was no sign of her mother. Another part of her slapped the first part for being so mean, but secretly felt the same way.

Mimi got to her door and leaned against it for a moment, resting her legs. She had changed out of the Dress of Horror, but she felt as though she had been tripping around in it all day. With a sigh, Mimi straightened and moved back from the door slightly to pull it open.

It was a very good thing that Mimi pulled away from the door. A very good thing. Because, had she not, when her mother flung the door open, Mimi might have sustained quite painful and serious brain damage. As it was, the door only hit her in the stomach and knocked her backwards.

"Ma…Mama?" gasped Mimi from her new spot on the floor. Mrs. Marquez towered over her, angry, cold eyes glaring down. She was wearing her long traveling coat, and in one hand was the mammoth black suitcase, which she hefted like a pro. On her head was the giant floppy hat that always meant she was going somewhere.

"Mama, what are you doing? I've been looking all over for you!" Mimi scrambled to her feet, her eyes locked on her mother's. Mrs. Marquez sniffed and, without saying a word to Mimi, began to descend the stairs. Mimi stumbled after her.

"Mama, where are you—"

"I am going home, Mimi. I am going home to where there are people that I know and that I can trust to tell me the truth." Her mother went around the curve in the stairs, her coat billowing out behind her as she increased in speed. Mimi nearly tripped as she hastily braked to avoid stepping on the coat.

"But Mama, what you saw me doing, that wasn't—"

"It was not only you that I saw, Mimi. It may alarm you to know that as I walked out of your house, I saw Angelo…entangled with someone else, worse than you with that boy. I do not wish to stay any longer in this place where people deceive others in such manners. I never even looked at another man after I married your father…bless his soul." Mimi's mother almost forgot the mandatory crossing and bless-his-soul in her haste to escape Mimi.

If you never looked at another man, it must have been hard to raise my four brothers, Mimi thought silently. Instead, she pretended to gasp and said, "Mama, what are you talking about? Who was Angelo kissing? Was it that girl from upstairs? I knew—"

"Do not complain or accuse, miss! You are not innocent by any means!" She stopped suddenly, so suddenly that Mimi was very briefly in danger of slamming into her mother from behind. She grabbed the stair rail though, and caught herself. Her mother whirled around to face her, anger and disappointment blazing out of every wrinkle and graying hair.

"I did not raise you to do such things, Mimi! Now, you have been trouble ever since you were born: willful, disobedient, wild, and incapable of following any rules I have ever set for you! Not mention the way that you seemed to use that body of yours to attract the most awful boys!" Her mother said the word body as though it was a swear word.

Mimi stood still and let her mother rail against her. It brought back memories; Mimi, six years old, cowering with her older brother and two of her younger sisters on the ground as her mother screamed at them…her mother pinching the soft skin under Mimi's wrist when the thirteen-year-old arrived home ten minutes late…her mother, with tears coursing down her face and a bottle in one hand, screeching at Mimi that she was worthless, she was stupid, she would never amount to anything…all these memories, mixed with the good ones, of warm houses and good food and loud laughter. All these memories and here she was now, letting her mother scream at her as though it was five or six years ago.

"I have forgiven many things in the past, Mimi. I have forgiven stealing, lateness, laziness, disobedience, and even you running away to this…place! But I cannot forgive lying, and especially not to someone who you were supposed to trust! And him! I do not know much about this boy, but I do know that he was betraying you, and…" Mimi's mother seemed to inflate with her anger, until finally she burst out, "with a man!"

It took Mimi a second to remember to be shocked by this. And by the time she had managed to get a properly stunned look on her face, her mother was off and going again.

"So that is it! I am not staying here with a daughter who betrays and lies and scorns everything I have ever taught! I am going home, where there are people who have listened to those that were wiser than them, and know the teachings they must follow! And do not bother me with your protests, Mimi; I am going, and I do not wish to hear from you again!" And with that, Mimi's mother turned and stormed down the stairs and out of the building.

Mimi stood frozen on the stairs. She heard her mother walk out onto the street and stop, but Mimi did not move up or down the stairs. Several minutes later, she heard the squeal of tires and the murmur of voices, then a thunk as something was thrown into a car trunk, and the slam of car doors. And finally, the roar of an engine as the taxi carrying her mother went down the street and out of Mimi's life. Mimi waited until the final echo of the taxi had dissipated into the air. Then she sank onto the steps…

And wept.

She cried harder than she could ever remember crying; it was like her eyes were throwing up. The tears came and came and came, and the sobs continued to scrape her throat raw, and the wet gasps seemed in endless supply. Worst of all, she did not know why she was crying, only that for some reason, Mimi suddenly felt sadder than ever before. It was a deep, clawing sadness that welled up from somewhere inside and poured out like acid into her body; it was the sadness of someone who has lost something that they did not know they had, and who remembers that whatever they lost has hurt them badly. Mimi did not understand it; but she felt it. She felt it everywhere.

She did not know how long she cried, but she did know that when she looked up, her hands and lap were soaked with tears, and her face might as well have been dunked underwater. She felt sweaty and hot and uncomfortable…and then, a strange and purifying calm.

"My mother is gone." Mimi said the sentence slowly, trying the words out in her mouth. They felt good. She said them again. "My mother is gone." Turning, she ascended the stairs, feeling slowly creeping back into her body. The sadness from before had disappeared, burrowing back inside her. Now, her mind felt peaceful and pleasantly airy.

She passed her own door, and reached the loft's. Taking a deep breath, Mimi pushed it open. Mark was sitting on the edge of the table, legs swinging back and forth, shaking his head. Joanne was looking worriedly out the window, and Maureen lay on her back, feet sticking into the air as she obviously tried (keyword tried) to console Collins and Roger. Both men were sitting on the couch with their heads in their hands (Roger's hands were actually clutching his hair). Angel was sitting on the armrest beside Collins, looking like she was doing a somewhat better job than Maureen.

All faces turned to stare at Mimi as she entered. Standing there, feeling that same pleasant, airy feeling, Mimi took a breath and said those, nice comfortable words again.

"My mother is gone."