There were moments in life where you felt that no matter how fast you ran, no matter how swiftly your feet carried you, you still would fail; still fall short.

That was how she felt now. Between having to move at a slower pace for the allowance of Jeremy's keeping up with her and the numerous people who had attempted to halt her and inquire as to what was happening, she felt as though it took her ages to finally reach the steps of the infirmary.

Heart hammering beneath her chest harder than it ever had before, she burst through the wooden doors, paying no mind to her disheveled state, before her eyes began desperately flitting around the nearly empty room in search of her daughter.

"Where is she?" she panted, her voice shaking as her gaze couldn't quite seem to settle on any one place.

Ichabod had to have brought her here. There was nowhere else he could have gone.

"Katrina," called Mary's familiar voice, pulling her gaze to the open door which led into the next room.

The sight of her friend coming around the corner at a brisk pace, her hands and apron drenched in blood, nearly dropped her to her knees as a shot of pain overwhelmed her body. "Is she-? Oh God, please tell me she's not..."

Mary's eyes widened as she quickly reached out to grasp her arms and stop her from completely collapsing to the floor in a heap of devastation. "She's still breathing, Katrina. She's alive."

Strangely those words did nothing to calm her in the least. Hands scrambling for her friend's arms, she gripped them tightly in an attempt to keep herself upright. "Where is she?"

"Doctor Johnson is with her," Mary slowly explained, her dark eyes darting over her with a deepening frown. "The minute Ichabod brought her in, the doctor immediately set about working on her."

Mary paused a moment and reached up to cup her face. "Katrina, are you hurt?"

"What?" she asked, knitting her brow as she attempted to discern why her friend was asking her such a thing.

"You're covered in blood," Mary explained as she gestured to her dress. "Is any of it yours?"

Gaze falling to her light blue dress, she found the front of it stained with drying blood; some places in large blotches and others splattered with the dark red fluid. "No, it's..."

How much had her little girl bled for so much of it to be covering herself and Mary? She needed to see her; needed to know for herself. Quickly disentangling herself from her friend's grasp, she dashed across the room toward the door in need of actual evidence that Kahlan was here and alive.

Upon rounding the corner, she gripped the door frame to catch herself from stumbling into the room as her eyes sought out the tall, fair haired man who was standing over a cot against the far wall. However, her eyes didn't linger on him for long, but, instead, fell to the blood which was dripping off the table and splattering as it hit the wooden floor below. The sight caused her stomach to churn.

There was so much blood.

"Mary, you have to heal her," she gasped as her eyes took in Kahlan's pale cheeks; a stark contrast to her dark, matted hair. "You have to save her."

The unexpected jerk against her arm had her spinning around to meet Mary's panicked expression as she pulled her back into the first room.

"You know I can't do that here, Katrina," Mary whispered as she darted her gaze around as though someone might overhear. "It's too risky."

An immediate heat flushed her cheeks and chest as all sanity seemed to be slipping from her, prompting her to jerk her friend's hold off of her and bite out, "I don't care about the risk. Let them burn me. I'll confess to everyone that it was me. Please, just save her." Hot tears started down her face again. "You have to save my baby, Mary."

Almost as though Kahlan were calling to Mary herself, Mary's gaze flickered toward the door, her brown eyes dilating as her breathing picked up speed. For the first time, she had doubts as to whether her oldest friend would come to her aid. Then, Mary's gaze fell to Jeremy, who was clinging to her skirts with tear stained cheeks; his harsh breathing seeming to drowned out all other sounds in the rooms.

"I'll do what I can," Mary finally relented. "But with him hovering over her, I'll never manage to accomplish it. I can't just heal her right in front of him, Katrina."

A sudden clarity came to her as she turned on her heel and rushed into the room again, this time actually breaking the threshold. There was a clear path in her mind; a clear mission directing her steps. When she'd covered the distance between her and the doctor, she began screaming, "You have to save her!"

His reaction was as expected; startled. With wide eyes, he reeled back as she clutched the front of his shirt and began tugging him around. "Katrina-"

She wasn't to be stopped and managed to turn him so his back was to Kahlan. Then, she proceeded to uncontrollably sob into his chest.

"Mary," he called over his shoulder, clearly at a loss for what to do as he held her by the shoulders. "Take her from here."

"I've tried," Mary replied as she moved to Kahlan's side and pressed her hands to her wound. "I can't get her out."

"Mrs. von Brunt," he said as he gripped her by the arms and began dragging her across the room toward the door. "I'm doing everything I can for her, but you must allow me to operate. Now, stay out here."

With that, he turned and quickly reentered the room, leaving her to wipe at her face and, without wasting a moment, step back into the doorway where she caught Mary's eyes and noticed her friend give a subtle nod.

Finally breathing a sigh with that small consolation, she wearily sagged against the wall and began sliding down it as soft sobs bubbled in her throat, making it difficult for her to breathe without sounding like she was choking. Needing to feel some pressure against her body as a means to calm herself, she brought her knees up and wrapped her arms around them before placing her head in the small cocoon she'd made.

However, small hands timidly touching her arm pulled her gaze back up only to find Jeremy standing beside her; his cheeks red and puffy; his small body visibly trembling.

"Oh, my sweet boy," she whispered as she swiftly reached out and wrapped her arms around him. "I'm so sorry."

It didn't take but a moment for his own sobs to take him over as he fell into her lap; his slender arms going around her waist as he continued to shake.

"Mama has you," she soothed as she rubbed his back and placed kisses to his head. "I have you."


Time seemed to drag on as she and Jeremy huddled together awaiting any news on Kahlan's condition. While the assurance that Mary had taken the brunt of her daughter's injuries away gave her some measure of comfort, there was still a part of her that feared everything in regards to what was happening just on the other side of the wall her gaze had been plastered to for some time now. She couldn't imagine the torment she'd be enduring without that assurance, however.

Swallowing against the knot in her throat, she allowed her eyes to fall to Jeremy, who had exhausted himself with relentless sobbing and was now lying half asleep in her arms. Gently running her fingers through his thick hair, she watched the steady rise and fall of his chest. Thankful that he seemed to be finding some rest at last, she leaned her head back against the wall and waited.

When Mary finally reappeared in the doorway, a bloodstained cloth twisting in her hands as she attempted to partially clean herself, she sat up straighter and adjusted her young son in her lap as she looked up at her friend with more hope than she could verbally express.

"She's awake and asking for you," Mary said with a small, yet very tired, smile.

Relief washed through her as she shook Jeremy awake and had him stand so she could rise and wrap her friend in a tight hug. "Thank you, Mary. I can never repay you."

Mary's arms clutched her close as she whispered in her ear, "I healed her as much as possible without it being too noticeable. The doctor was slightly amazed at how quickly she stopped bleeding, but there was still enough to occupy his attention with digging out the bullet."

She flinched at the thought of the man's fingers actually inside her baby, probing and tearing at her flesh, but nodded her understanding nevertheless. None of it mattered so long as Kahlan was safe.

Pulling back to catch her friend's eyes, she searched for the answer she needed. "But she's going to be alright? The danger's passed?"

"The blood loss has weakened her," Mary replied softly before a light laugh slipped from her lips. "But she's coherent enough that you should go in before she pitches one of those fits she's so fond of throwing."

Briefly glancing down at Jeremy, who was wiping at his swollen eyes, she took his hand and began leading him into the room; knowing he would refuse to allow her to leave him for even a moment.

Kahlan was still on the same bed, but thankfully had a change of sheets pulled over her, something she was grateful for as Jeremy didn't need to see anymore than he already had this day. The images of his sister lying in a pool of blood would surely torment his dreams enough in the days to come.

As she approached the bed, almost tentatively as Kahlan looked to be asleep, she felt a swell of relief fill her when Kahlan's head tiredly rolled to the side and those beautiful green eyes found her.

"Mama?"

Never before had her daughter's voice sounded so precious to her.

With a choked sob that refused to be contained any longer, she laid a hand to Kahlan's still pale cheek as she leaned to place a kiss to her forehead. "I'm here, sweetheart."

When she pulled back, she smiled through the tears blurring her vision. "I'm so happy you're awake."

"It hurts," Kahlan whispered, her voice cracking as her small hand lifted to lie against her shoulder.

Briefly licking her lips, she nodded sympathetically and pushed Kahlan's hair from her warm cheeks. "I'm so sorry. I wish I could take the pain from you."

A grimace passed over Kahlan's face as she reached up to cover her hand. "I want to go home, mama."

Her daughter's green eyes were filled with so much pain that she had to stop herself from crumpling into another bout of sobbing. Why did her children have to suffer for her mistakes?

"I promise we will just as soon as it's safe."

Kahlan's fingers wrapped tightly around hers as her eyes fell, a frown appearing on her face as she squinted. "Are you hurt?"

Sparing her ruined dress a glance, she took in the dried, crusty blood coating her front. "No, I-I simply haven't had the time to change." She ran her fingers through Kahlan's hair. "I wanted to be here with you."

A slight tug on her dress brought a smile to her face. "Someone else did as well and he's very eager to see you."

Kahlan attempted to look further down, but her position prevented her from doing so very well. Not wanting to keep her waiting, she bent over and lifted Jeremy up in her arms, giving Kahlan a proper view of her brother.

Upon seeing her brother, a bright smile lit Kahlan's face. "Jeremy."

He reached for Kahlan, so she gently sat him on Kahlan's good side and helped him lie down beside her without jostling her too much. When she was sure Kahlan was comfortable with him there, she returned to stroking Kahlan's hair.

"He was really worried about you."

Kahlan gave another smile as her fingers wrapped around her brother's. However, a frown soon followed it. "Where's father?" She gave a small shudder as her green eyes widened. "Is he hurt, too?"

"No, sweetheart," she said reassuringly, even as her own worry began to set it. "He brought you here."

"Then, where is he?" Kahlan asked again, her eyes searchingly dancing over the room as if Ichabod might be standing in the corner just out of her view. "Why isn't he with us?"

That was a good question. So caught up in making sure Kahlan was alright and comforting Jeremy while waiting for any word on her condition, Ichabod had completely slipped her mind. How could she have forgotten to search for him? The fact that he wasn't here when she'd arrived was now too odd to overlook.

"Why don't I go find him?" She looked at Jeremy, who looked to be on the verge of falling asleep once more. "Be still and don't jostle your sister, alright?" At his weary nod, she ran a hand over his cheek. "I'll be right back."

However, before she could move away, Kahlan grasped her hand; a panicked look on her face. "What about fath-Abraham? Won't he hurt us again?"

A burning spread over her chest, one that had her ready to rip Abraham to pieces, as she quickly shook her head. "I swear to you, Kahlan. He will never hurt you again."

While Kahlan nodded her understanding, a low whimper still escaped her. "Don't stay gone long, mama."

Sucking in an unsteady breath, she leaned over and kissed Kahlan's temple. "I promise."

When she finally made it out of the room, she sought out Mary, who was scrubbing the blood from her hands in a clean bowl of water. "Did you see Ichabod when he brought Kahlan in?"

Mary glanced at her with a confused frown. "Uhm, yes, he brought her in and set her down for us, but, after that, I suppose I became so caught up that I forgot he was there." Mary stared at her in question. "Katrina, what happened?"

Worry that he might have went back for Abraham entered her as she answered, "Abraham and Ichabod were struggling for a pistol and... Kahlan..."

Mary's eyes widened. "What? Abraham shot her?"

Needing to find her love, she shook her head and headed for the door. "I'm sorry, Mary. I have to find Ichabod." She glanced back at her friend. "If Abraham comes here, he is not to go anywhere near Kahlan and Jeremy."

Mary gave a clipped nod. "If he tries to get in here, he won't exit still breathing."

Giving a small smile of thanks to her friend, she turned back to the door; a new mission in her mind. If she could just get her family in one room, perhaps, she'd finally be able to have some peace for a few moments. However, upon flinging the door open, she found herself surprised by the number of people just outside on the street. The Bartley's. Mr. Taylor. Alfred. Even her stepmother and Mrs. von Brunt, the latter of which seeming less concerned than the others.

"Oh, Katrina," Mr. Bartley exclaimed with his wife, Anne, at his side. "How is Kahlan?"

Unsure how he even knew what had happened, how any of them knew, she gave the best smile she could muster in the bright morning sunlight. "She's going to be fine."

Anne laid a soft hand to her arm as her concern filled eyes searched her out. "My dear, I heard she was shot. Is that true? Who would do such a thing to that precious child?"

"I-" Her eyes fell closed as she attempted to find herself, but, before she could even begin to manage it, a shout of her name pulled her eyes to the street.

"Katrina!"

A spike of dread shot down her spine as she watched a bloodied and bruised Abraham stumble up the steps toward her, drawing the gazes of the many onlookers.

Unconsciously taking a step back from him, she heatedly whispered, "Stay away from me."

Never ceasing in his stride, Abraham balked at her order and reached forward to grip her arm before jerking her against him as he whispered lowly, "You are my wife, not his, and you will do as I say."

"I am not your wife," she bit at him as she struggled and failed to pull her arm free of his painful grasp. "You stay away from me and my children."

"Either you come with me," he went on, unaffected by her words. "Or I'm going to tell them all what you are." He gestured to the dozens of people gathered in the street as well as the one's who'd come out of their respective businesses. "I swear, I will."

Fear took hold of her as her eyes swiftly darted to Anne, who was staring at Abraham with wide eyes. Unsure what to do without causing a scene, she pulled upon the last ounce of courage she had and pleadingly whispered, "Abraham, please, just leave us alone. This doesn't have to become any worse than it already is."

For a solid, heart stopping, moment, she imagined this all going away, that it was all just a horrible dream, but then, to her distress, he roughly shoved her back and held up an accusing finger as the dreaded words tumbled from his lips.

"She's a witch!"

A collective gasp spread through the dusty street and she felt all eyes boring into her, making her feel like a spotlight had suddenly shone down upon her; the heat of it feeling like the beginnings of the flames that were sure to follow this encounter. With every moment that passed she could see confusion turn to accusation as the people she'd spent her whole life loving and serving began to stare at her as though they didn't know her.

"Abraham, I'm begging you," she pled as she beseeched him through her eyes. "If you ever cared about me at all, you'll stop this."

The most wicked smile she'd ever seen appeared on his face as he leaned close and whispered, "You're going to burn as your little bastards watch before they're thrown to the flames as well."

Her throat was so closed off with building emotion that she wasn't sure she could even formulate a response, but to her shock she hadn't any need for one as Abraham was abruptly jerked away from her, causing her eyes to catch sight of her love as he shoved Abraham headfirst down the steps; leaving the man to skid through the gravel of the walkway; the rocks and dirt stirring in the air.

So floored by what was happening, she couldn't even bring herself to move until she noticed Ichabod starting to descend the steps and continue after Abraham; the intent to murder the man clear in every muscle of his body.

Quickly regaining her senses, she rushed forward to grasp his forearm. "My love, please, no more."

Rather than pull from her as she expected him to, he growled at Abraham, who was wearily pushing himself up from the ground with the aid of his mother who'd ran to his side. "Don't you ever put your hands on her again."

"Is that Ichabod Crane?" Mr. Taylor, the Post Master, asked as he stepped closer. "My God, it is." He turned to the crowd of onlookers and shouted, "It's Ichabod Crane!"

Slipping her hand into Ichabod's blood stained one, she clung to his side as another gasp filled the crowd, who'd begun to mumble amongst themselves like a swarm of buzzing bees.

Unable to take another moment of the stares, which ranged from accusing to startled, she whispered, "Let us go inside, my love."

As Ichabod stared down at her, his eyes heavy with exhaustion, she took in his blood soaked shirt and trousers. He looked as though he'd slaughtered a pig and was near to collapsing.

However, before she could gain his agreement, Abraham's voice called again, causing Ichabod's entire body to go rigid.

"That whore is a witch and I demand to see her burned for her heinous crimes against this town!"

With that, she noticed Ichabod's eyes darken as he spun around and screamed, "I'm going to kill you!"

Quickly tightening her grasp on him, she latched onto his arm and did her best to hold him back, but found herself failing as he only pulled her forward with him; her feet dragging through the graveled street. "Ichabod, no!"

Despite her best attempts to stop him, he struggled against her and was only halted by Gregory Bartley taking his other arm and stepping in front of him. "Calm down, son."

"My love, please," she whispered as she slid her arms around his tense, panting form. "I can't take any more bloodshed. I beg you to please return inside with me."

His body was pulsing with energy as his knuckles went white with the force he was using to clench his fists. She knew if he managed to get his hands on Abraham in this moment, the man would not breathe many more breaths.

"How is he alive?" asked a bewildered Anne once they had him stopped. "We all attended his funeral."

Now, instead of accusing eyes being on her, they were all staring at Ichabod as though seeing a ghost.

It was Abraham who spoke, "He defected; ran like a coward from the war and his responsibility to his family."

Gregory Bartley bristled as he stepped in front of Ichabod and lifted a hand toward Abraham. "That's a lie if I ever heard one. There isn't a man in this town who loved his family more than Ichabod Crane. He adored Katrina and cherished that little girl."

"What did you do, Abraham?"

The familiar, deep voice pulled her gaze to see her father walking up; his gaze fixated on the now jittery man under the heated gazes of the townspeople of Sleepy Hollow.

"I've done nothing," Abraham said, his words stuttered as he took a step back; clearly seeing his years of manipulation catching up to him.

Mary's voice came from behind her. "Abraham kidnapped Ichabod and has spent the last six years torturing him out of revenge for Katrina's breaking her troth to him."

"It doesn't matter what happened to him," Abraham shouted, his face now showing every ounce of hatred he held for she and Ichabod. "Katrina van Tassel is a witch! I've seen her use her dark magic." He jerked a finger toward the town square. "She's the one who helped that witch escape the pyre seven years ago and I've even seen her catch a bullet in her bare hand. She's an abomination." He spun around and pointed toward the infirmary. "And Kahlan... I can't begin to express how many fires that bastard set when she came into her powers at a mere three years of age."

At the mention of Kahlan, she noticed her father's eyes dart to hers and, with little else to do but beg for his mercy through her gaze, she found herself rooted to the spot as the realization washed over his face. All her years of worry over him learning who she was had finally come to a head and she was left with bated breath for the decision he would make regarding her fate.

However, it wasn't her father who came to her rescue.

"I assume you'll say next that she can heal wounds," Doctor Johnson said from behind her, prompting everyone's attention to shift to him as he stood at the top of the infirmary's steps.

Abraham nodded, seemingly eager to have someone believe him. "In mere moments."

The Doctor shook his head as his eyes narrowed into slits. "Then, you've just proven your accusations flawed, Mr. von Brunt, for not an hour ago, I watched her sink to her knees and beg me to save her daughter's life after she was brought in with a nearly fatal gunshot wound."

Abraham didn't hesitate. "She's wearing a necklace that prevents her magic. I put it on her years ago."

"You're spinning one lie after the other, Abraham," her father said as he stepped forward and thrust a finger toward Abraham. "It's time to stop."

Abraham balked as he turned to her father. "She is my wife! I'm the one who has been wronged by her deception and manipulation."

"You mean the wife you coerced into marrying you after you viciously ripped her beloved husband from her and left her to believe he was dead?" her father pressed. "No, Abraham, I've seen too much evidence of the abuse you've done against her. My daughter has endured hell because of you and it ends today." He turned to a handful of men who were watching the events unfold. "Someone get this filth out of here."

Abraham's mother stared at him as though he were mad. "You cannot make such a threat against my son! He's done nothing you can prove!"

"Quite the contrary," her father said as he held a hand out toward her. "He accused my daughter of witchcraft and has been caught in his lie by our good doctor. I'd say that's something akin to attempted murder, wouldn't you, madam? It's surely enough to cast doubt upon his assertion that he had nothing to do with the kidnapping of my son-in-law."

When no one seemed to want to step out and help him, a flash of pure, unadulterated hate washed over Abraham's face as he turned like a wild animal and attempted to snatch her. However, before he could get anywhere near touching her, he was stopped by Ichabod's fist catching him right in the throat, leaving Abraham to reel back in an attempt to catch his breath as Ichabod descended upon him and began raining a series of blows to his body; the two of them now tussling in the gravel at the foot of the steps.

Knowing Ichabod was intent upon killing him, she screamed at him. "Ichabod, stop!"

For once, he actually listened to her as he shoved Abraham away and fell back on his haunches.

As he looked as though her were about to collapse, she quickly rushed down the steps and fell beside him before cupping his face while he panted for breath.

"Ichabod-"

"I can't," he whispered as he sagged into her. "I can't breathe."

About to open her mouth for response, she was suddenly pushed into the gravel as Ichabod vaulted over her. The pain of the rocks digging into her hands didn't stop her from flipping over and catching sight of Ichabod's arms wrapped around Abraham's neck as they struggled.

Abraham brought his elbow into Ichabod's stomach, leaving Ichabod to stumble back long enough for Abraham to turn and swing at him again. However, Ichabod recovered enough to catch Abraham's arm and sling him past him, causing Abraham to trip; a deafening crack sounding as his head connected with the side of the stone steps.

So startled by the sight of the blood which had quickly began to pool over the stone, she remained completely still as the doctor rushed to check Abraham over.

It was like she watching the events unfold in slow motion; perhaps through a magnifying glass as everything seemed so blurry and out of focus.

"He's dead."

Abraham's mother gave a wail as she fell at her son's side and gathered his crumpled body in her arms; her dress quickly absorbing the pouring blood.

Then, without warning, the crowd began pushing in, prompting her to reach for Ichabod's hands. "Come inside."

He allowed her to tug him through the doors, but, as soon as they were inside, he leaned into the wall and sagged down it; his head in his hands with his back to the building.

For her part, she wasn't really certain what to do; join him on the floor as she attempted to sort out what had just occurred, or attempt to pick him back up. One resounding thing seemed to be constantly circling in her mind: Abraham was finally gone for good.

"My love?"

At her voice, he lifted his head and she saw the evidence of his state in the tear-stained streaks glistening along his cheeks.

"I should have killed him," he whispered in a croaked voice. "I never should have let him remain in our house. The moment I had the pistol, I should have dragged him out and killed him right then."

Slowly easing down beside him, she attempted to reach for his hands, but he jerked them back and shoved away from her. "This is my fault, Katrina! Kahlan could die because of me!"

"Kahlan is fine, my love," she whispered as she gestured to the opening which led to the next room. "She's lying in bed with Jeremy as we speak."

His face contorted into a frown as he glanced to the room, giving her the idea he didn't believe her. "No... she was... her wound. It was too severe."

Finally gaining a grasp on his hands, she brought them to her chest and held them tightly. "Mary healed her to the point that the doctor could do the rest without noticing." She gave him a reassuring smile, hoping with all her might he would calm enough to actually listen to her words and allow them to sink in. "She's going to be fine."

And just like that, he collapsed against her as a wave of sobs bubbled out of him. "I'm so sorry."

"Oh, my love, this isn't your doing," she whispered as she cradled him in her arms. "If it weren't for you, who knows what would have happened?"

"I shouldn't have come back," he sobbed, clutching at the back of her dress. "I should have stayed away from all of you. You would've been safer without me."

Quickly pulling back from him, she lifted his face to hers, wanting to see the truths hidden in his blue eyes. "How can you say that? Would you truly doom us to spend the the rest of our lives with Abraham? With his abuse?"

"Katrina, I'm just as horrible as he is," he replied sorrowfully, the tears steaming down his blood splotched face making him seem all the more pitiful. "I hurt you last night. The things I did to you..."

"No," she denied, hardly able to believe he was actually comparing himself to Abraham. "You are nothing like him. Don't you ever say that again! It's not Abraham who Kahlan is asking for. It's you, my love. She's asking for her father and wondering why he's not at her side."

He stared at her through red rimmed, puffy eyes. "Sh-She is? She wants me?"

"Yes," she responded with a chuckle even as her heart broke for him. "Is that really so hard for you to believe? That she dearly loves you already?"

"But-"

"There is no but," she cut in, laying her finger to his lips. "She loves you and, without you, our little girl might not be alive right now." She tenderly pushed his hair back and smiled. "Thank you so much, Ichabod. You saved her life."

Tears welled in his eyes again as he leaned his forehead to hers. "Katrina."

Caressing his cheek, she sighed in relief at him finally trusting in her and smiled. "Let's go see our children. You need to see for yourself that they're both alright."

With a nod, he quickly stood and pulled her up, his energy seeming to return to him.

Taking the lead, she led him into the next room to find Jeremy still lying beside Kahlan, though both of them were now fast asleep.

Not wanting to push him any further, she simply stood at the bedside and kept a gentle pressure on his hand to let him know she was here as he stared at their children, his blue eyes dancing over their small forms as if memorizing every part of them. Then, to her surprise, he dropped to his knees and laid his head next to Kahlan's before placing his hand over her belly.

Warmed at the sight, she took up a stance just behind him and laid a hand to his back where she began rubbing soothing circles.

They were going to be alright. They just had to be.


Well, we're finally rid of Abraham. Now, maybe this little family can move on without further obstacles... Maybe.