"It'll all be over with in a few minutes, hon." Christian sat beside his wife, stroking her hair. "I'll take you somewhere extra nice for dinner tomorrow. How's that sound?"

"All right," Lissa mumbled, already feeling the effects of the heavy sedation.

"I love you." He kissed her cheek.

"Love...you..."

A few seconds later, they rolled her into the operating room. Christian paced the floor, glancing at his wrist watch every few minutes. Exactly one second after the sixth glance, Dr. Benson appeared. "Everything went well. She's resting in recovery. You can go back and see her in a few minutes."

"Thank God." Christian let out the breath he'd been holding. Moments later, he was sitting at the bedside of a very woozy Lissa.

"I'm thirsty," she whispered.

Christian held a straw to her lips, and she took several sips of ice water from the Styrofoam cup he held. "Thank you."

Christian's fingers brushed several strands of damp hair from her forehead. "Is it all over, then?" she asked him.

He nodded, and she began to cry, tears flowing down the sides of her face to dampen the pillow. He stayed beside her for as late as he was allowed, then returned home alone to eat a TV dinner and watch a couple of hours of news. A woman from the animal rights group was being interviewed. Every other word out of her mouth was bleeped. Christian sighed and changed the channel.

Without the soft warmth of Lissa's body beside him in bed, the bed seemed much too large, and his sleep was fitful and filled with dreams involving dismembered dolls. He awoke early and wasn't able to get back to sleep. He drank several cups of black coffee and did paperwork before time to pick Lissa up from the hospital.

He arrived to find her much more alert than she'd been the previous day but a bit pale. "You look well," he told her.

She smirked. "No I don't, but thanks."

He took her hand and led her out of the hospital, taking care not to walk past the nursery. "Want to go to the zoo for a bit?" he asked her. "I know how much you love to watch the monkeys."

"No, thanks. I just want to go home and rest."

Later, Christian went to the supermarket and bought steaks and potatoes and vegetables and made a nice meal at home.

"How far away is Russia, Papa?" Marina asked her father.

"About ten thousand kilometers, or six thousand miles," Dimitri replied.

The little girl's eyes grew big. "Wow, that's even longer than a hundred miles!"

Dimitri laughed. "A bit longer, yes."

"Don't worry about that, sweetie." Rose smiled at her daughter. "You're not going to Russia, not any time soon, at least."

"Mila said that's where the best ballet school is, but I like my ballet school."

"And that's where you're going to stay, at least until you're older."

"How much older?"

"A teenager, at least."

"How old will I be then?"

"Thirteen."

"Wow, and I'm only six now! That's a long time away!"

After she'd ran outside to play, her parents looked at one another. "I guess I did kind of over react." Rose's voice was sheepish.

"That's all right. I don't really want to be separated from her either, especially considering how much of her life I've already missed."

"That was my fault." Rose sighed and looked down at her hands, thinking of how much her husband and daughter loved one another. "It's something I'll never forgive myself for."

A moment later, she felt the warmth of her husband's hands covering her own. "There's nothing to forgive, Roza. You were alone and afraid, unsure of what to do. I'll always regret that I wasn't there for you when you needed me, but that's all in the past, darling. We have all the rest of our lives to look forward to."

She raised her head so she could kiss his lips. "I love you, Dimitri."

"I love you too, Roza."

Christian was driving home from work when he heard the news on the radio. The camp for disadvantaged children had burned to the ground during normal operating hours, leaving six dead and nineteen injured, mostly due to smoke inhalation. Arson was suspected.

Oh my God. In his head, Christian repeated the phrase over and over again for the rest of the ride home. He could only imagine the state he'd find his wife in.

He'd barely entered the house when she ran to him, hysterical with grief. All he could do was hold her and try his best to comfort her.

"They won't release the names of the victims. I've called every hospital in the area, and nobody will tell me anything. I just know Melody's hurt...or even worse!"