.2.

Despite Carly's declaration that she needed to go back to Salem Frankie had managed to convince her to take some time, to spend a few more weeks in Kenya. And he was glad he had because on the third day there she spiked a fever, her temperature skyrocketing to 103 degrees and her skin; which Frankie didn't think could become paler took on an almost deathly pallor.

"Carly, please let me take you to a doctor," Frankie pleaded.

Carly shook her head. "I am a doctor. Besides it just stress and exhaustion … my body has been in constant fight or flight mode ever since I left Salem that … it was all bound to catch up with me," she shrugged, closing her eyes and leaning back against the cushion.

Frankie sighed, watching as she leaned back in the oversized deck chair, a blanket wrapped around her despite the sweltering African sunshine. "Ok," he relented. "But if you still have a fever in 24 hours I am not taking no for an answer."

"I promise," Carly reassured him as she curled her feet up under herself and closed her eyes.

"Would you like something to eat?" Frankie asked.

Again, Carly shook her head. "I'm not hungry."

"Carly," Frankie began. "Please just humor me a little. You've barely eaten anything; you can't fight this thing on coffee and water alone. Besides if we are going to be heading back to Salem soon you are going to need to save all the strength you can," he finished, remembering how exhausted she had been after telling him everything, he couldn't even begin imagine how much it would take out of her telling Bo about Nicky and Edie.

Opening her eyes Carly smiled softly at him. "Fine. You still remember the recipe for Helen's chicken soup?" she asked, referring back to the nanny they had as children.

"I sure do," Frankie smiled, standing up and lifting the blanket up over her before placing a kiss on her fevered brow. Watching her for a few minutes he waited until he was sure she was asleep before locating his phone, ringing a now familiar number he placed an order with a local grocery store who assured him they would have everything he needed over to the beach house within an hour.

Walking back into the house he sat down in the terraced area, opening his laptop he fired up his emails hoping for some good news instead all he was met with was the usual work-related spam. After his conversation with Carly he had vowed to trach down his niece, knowing that there was no way his sister would be able to begin to heal until she knew her child was safe.

Not knowing where to start he had decided to track down the death record for Omer, the lawyer that had helped Carly and taken Edie to safety. That part wasn't hard, the hard part was trying to track down any associates he might have had, people who might have helped him hide a child without asking too many questions.

Within hours he had located a few likely avenues; the first being a law associate of his who was currently working for the Royal Family in Jordan and the second being a distant member of Qatari royal family that Omer had gone to law school with. He had sent them both an e-mail asking them to contact him at their earliest convenience. However, as his virtually empty inbox told him they were either ignoring his request or had not yet received it.

Closing his laptop, he sighed, running his hand through his hair. He had considered placing a call to Salem, to his mother Caroline to try and get an update on what everyone in the small town was up to. In particular one Bo Brady. After all, with the fragile state Carly was in he wanted to know exactly what they were walking in to. He knew bits and pieces; Zach's death, Ciara's kidnapping and from the small snippets people revealed he knew Bo and Hope's marriage was going through a rough patch.

The last bit worried him, a lot of people in that town knew the history between Carly and Bo, knew the all-consuming love they had once shared and how, with Hope considered dead, Bo, Carly and Shawn-Douglas had built a life for themselves, a family. With that in mind the last thing he wanted was for people to twist Carly's reason for returning, to put 2 and 2 together and come up with 5. Because he knew his sister and he knew that she would not want people knowing the truth, that she would want to keep her deepest, darkest traumas hidden and would rather people see her as a wannabe home-wrecker than a victim.

"This is going to be bumpy," he muttered to himself as he heard an engine outside. Quietly opening the door so as not to startle Carly he pulled some notes out of his pocket and handed them to the driver before carrying the groceries inside.

For the next hour he tried not to think about the what ifs and maybes as he busied himself in preparing some soup, salad and a cheese plate; although groceries were somewhat limited in the isolated beach region they had chosen he had managed to track down a lot of Carly's favorites. Making it his mission to get her to eat at least one proper meal a day.

"That actually smells pretty good," Carly yawned, walking into the kitchen and leaning against the wall.

"Did you have a good nap?" Frankie asked, relieved to see a little color back in her cheeks.

Carly nodded, taking the glass of fresh juice he was holding out towards her. "So, so. Sleep hasn't been … peaceful in a while," she admitted.

After their conversation on the beach yesterday Carly had promised that she was going to make an effort to let Frankie in, to be completely honest with him, after all he was the one person in her life she knew she could count on to always have her best interests at heart.

"Maybe we could speak to someone, see if they can prescribe you something?" Frankie suggested, whilst he wasn't a fan of the medicate first, deal with the problem later kind of solution he also knew that if Carly didn't get some proper rest soon, she was going to burn out.

"No," Carly sighed. "I know it will take time, that things will be hard but I need to do this on my own terms; no drugs, no … psychiatrists I just, I need to take back control."

"I get that," Frankie reassured her as he handed her a tray of food to carry out to the terrace.

Sitting down Carly faced out towards the trees as Frankie placed a bowl of soup in front of her, dipping her spoon into the bowl she waited a few seconds to ensure it wasn't piping hot before swallowing it. "You know this is actually pretty good," she smiled. "When did you learn to cook?"

"I have been having lessons," Frankie sheepishly admitted.

Carly raised an eyebrow at him and for a split-second Frankie saw a spark of the person she used to be, the person she was before Lawrence's reign of terror. "Lessons? As in actual cooking lessons?"

"Kind of," Frankie shrugged. He had considered how much he should tell Carly about what had been going on with him since they had last seen each other. On one hand she was his sister, the most important person in the world to him and he wanted to share everything with her, but on the other hand the last thing he wanted was to cause her more grief, for her to realize just how much more she had missed out on.

"What is it?" Carly asked, sensing Frankie's hesitation. "What aren't you telling me?" she wondered.

Deciding that hiding the truth from her would only cause more pain in the long run Frankie smiled, maybe some good news would be just what she needed. "I'm married," he admitted.

"Married," Carly repeated as her face broke out into a smile, and in that moment, despite his reservations Frankie realized he had done the right thing in telling her, as he watched her face break into the first real smile he had seen since their reunion.

Frankie bit his bottom lip as he thought of his wife of 4 years, when he had seen the news about Lawrence, made up his mind to go to Carly she had been so supportive. "Yes. Her name is Elizabeth. Beth. She's a doctor Carly … a cardiothoracic surgeon and she loves to cook, like really loves to cook, I'm surprised you didn't notice the pounds I've piled on since I met her."

"Where is she now?" Carly wondered.

"New York," Frankie replied. "She wanted to come but, I didn't know how you would react to seeing me after all those years let alone my wife you didn't even know existed."

Standing up Carly wrapped her arms around her little brother. "Please never think you have to hide your happiness from me. For the first time, in a long, long time I feel something other than loss. I am just … there are no words to describe how happy I am for you little brother. You deserve the world."

"So do you," Frankie whispered in her ear.

Carly sat back down in the chair; her legs curled up under her as she took another few spoonful's of soup. "Half my world is gone," she breathed, referring to the death of her first-born child. "And I have no idea where the other half is," she concluded, closing her eyes as she once again pictured the face of her daughter. An imagine that was frozen at 9-years-old, the last time she had seen the other half of her world.

DOOL – DOOL – DOOL

A she sat in front of the mirror brushing her dark brown curls 16-year-old Charlotte 'Charlie' Andrews paused, her eyes drifting up to the picture taken on her birthday. She was curled in a hammock as her older brothers pushed her, her parents watching from the sidelines as they watched their 3 children play around together.

Taking a deep breath she ran her fingers across her father's face, the tips of them trembling as she moved to her mother's face before dropping the picture and tracing her own reflection in the mirror.

"I must get this color from somewhere," she whispered as her finger lingered over the sparkling green of her eyes, a green that was so unique strangers actually stopped her to comment on them. "I just wish I could remember," she sighed.

Pinning the picture back up she looked down at her hands; she loved her family; her parents were good people and her brothers protected her and teased her just like older brothers should. But it hadn't always been this way, just like she hadn't always been Charlotte Andrews.

She was somewhere else before, someone else's little girl and if her memories were correct, she was pretty sure that once upon a time she was someone else's little sister too. She had been 9-years-old when she moved in with the Andrews, and her name had been something else, something that no matter how hard she tried she couldn't remember, it was like it was on the tip of her tongue always waiting to be spoken but she never quite could.

She had a life before, a life that she had lived for longer than she had been Charlotte, been this version of herself, but it was like someone had taken a hammer to that part of her, shattered it into a million pieces and she was never able to put it back together again.

It came to her sometimes though. In small flashes of memory, usually triggered by something small, something seemingly unimportant but obviously a big part of her past.

There was the beach, whenever she felt the sand beneath her feet she could remember being wrapped up in a blanket, nestled between someone's legs as they ran their fingers through her hair and promised her that it would be ok, she tried almost every night to remember the voice, exactly how it sounded but it was distorted in her memories, like an echo of something that no longer existed.

Some nights she woke up in a cold sweat, desperate to protect someone, to help them and it was that feeling that scared her the most. The feeling that she had left someone behind, someone who needed her, someone who loved her. She had told her parents about this once and not knowing much about her past, or where she came from, they had tried their best to reassure her. They had reminded her that she was just 9-years-old when she came to live with them, a child, that she was the one who needed protecting – not the other way around.

"Hey," Judy Andrews smiled, stepping into her daughter's room.

"Hey," Charlie echoed.

Judy watched as her daughter's eyes once again glanced up to the picture. "Penny for them?"

"I was just thinking…"

Charlie trailed off, the last thing she wanted to do was upset her parents, to make them think that they weren't enough, that she didn't love them. But for more than half of her life she was someone else, someone else's child and that was a hole that no amount of love could ever fill.

Judy walked further into the room and sat on the teenager's bed, allowing the young girl a few minutes silence as she watched her contemplate her words, figure out a way to broach the subject. She knew what was troubling her daughter, she had seen her retreat further and further in to herself ever since her sixteenth birthday.

"You can ask me anything, you know that," Judy reassured her daughter. "And I promise I will answer any question you have as truthfully as I can, it's not like I never expected this day to come. I always did, and I don't feel threatened by it … or even saddened, you were 9-years-old when you became ours, not a baby like the boys where, you have memories and connections that it's only natural you would want to explore them," she explained, letting her daughter know that it was ok to feel the way she was feeling.

Charlie nodded, wiping her eyes she tied her hair up in a lose bun before walking over to the bed, picking up a pillow she sat at the top, leaning against her headboard and cradling the pillow in her lap. "What was my name? Because I know it wasn't always Charlotte I just … I don't remember what it was."

"We were never told," Judy began, turning around to face her daughter and crossing her legs in front of her. "Fostering you was different than any of the other times, it was … confusing in the way it happened, We were contacted by a fostering agency that we had worked with before, they had had a 9-year-old child, a child that had no name, no family yet was a high risk placement," she explained.

"What was different about that?" Charlie wondered. She knew her brothers were initially foster placements her parents had adopted; she also knew that there had been other foster children before her just like there had continued to be after her.

Judy considered her words very carefully, not really sure how to explain it to the teenager. "Your father and I had been fostering for a long time, almost a decade and we had adopted your brothers so we knew quite a bit about the system and how it worked; both private and government placements. A legal risk foster placement usually referred to one in which the parents legal rights were either in the process of being terminated, or there were some criminal proceeding occurring behind the scenes, we had been involved in both before so … we had some experience and it just didn't fit because … straight off the bat they gave as legal guardianship over you, said that if it was ok with us you could assume our name and that you had no first name … you were 9-years-old, you had to have been called something but they said you simply came into the system as Child M."

"Child M," Charlie cried, even though she was sure, somewhere deep inside of her that she had been called something else, something meaningful, she still found it hard to believe that a child would simply be given an initial to define almost a decade of their life.

"Yes," Judy nodded. "The minute you came into our home we fell in love with you. You were such a gentle, smart, polite and giving child so we agreed and you took our last name. We asked you that first night what your name was but you wouldn't tell us, we tried again the next day and you just closed your eyes and started counting in French so we asked you what you wanted to be called, you said that you wanted to be called Charlotte so … from that day forward you were Charlotte Andrews."

"I already spoke French when I came to you?" Charlie exclaimed, not sure why but for some reason she had assumed that she had learnt French after coming to them, after all she did attend one of the best schools in the state.

Judy couldn't help but smile at the memories of those first months and the time they had spent getting to know the little girl. How they realized that when she scared or upset, she would start speaking in French so perfect that you would have sworn it was her first language. "Yes. And Arabic," Judy added, remembering how the young girl would revert to the other language when she was angry or frustrated.

"Wow," Charlie breathed, shaking her head as she watched her mother's face begin to fill with memories of her early months with them.

"Like I said, you were a fantastically smart child, even then, when you first came to us. Which is something else that we found confusing; within a few months of you arriving it was clear you were well educated, had travelled somewhat and been raised with respect, manners and kindness which just didn't fit with the idea that you would then, after 9 years be abandoned in the system with no name," Judy said, trying to explain all of the mystery that surrounded Charlie's first years on earth.

Charlie bit her bottom lip. "Did they tell you anything else about me?"

"No," Judy said. "Just that you would never be legally free for adoption, which is the only reason why your father and I haven't adopted you. We've tried, every year we petition the court but every year we get the same response that despite being with us with for 7 years, despite no one else ever fighting for custody of you or trying to contact us you can never legally 100% be ours," Judy finished, her heart breaking at the idea that in the eyes of the law she still was not Charlie's mother.

"That's weird right?" Charlie exclaimed, her nose wrinkling in confusion. "Just like the name and the languages thing it just all seems so … weird, almost like I'm some big secret that was left with you guys to keep me hidden," she joked, not realizing just how close she was to the truth.

"It is all unusual," Judy agreed, not wanting her daughter to ever think there was anything weird about her.

Charlie lifted the pillow to her chest. "Do you think there is any way I will ever be able to find out where I come from? Where I spent my first 9 years?"

"There is one way," Judy began, she had considered keeping this part from Charlie, but she had never lied to her children before and she wasn't about to start now. "You have money, like … a large amount of money which again, was something we had never encountered before but you have a trust … we have only ever used it once; for your school fees because it was never about money, you are our daughter and we wanted to provide for you just like we did our other children but your intelligence, your … you … you deserved the best and we couldn't afford it so we used the trust, the rest is all sat there waiting for you when you turn 21," she explained watching as a mixture of confusion and shock colored the teenagers face.

Unable to quite believe what she was hearing Charlie shook her head, this was just getting stranger and stranger by the second, foster kids didn't have trust funds, children abandoned with no name didn't come with their own bank account that was just insane. "How much? Like … you know material stuff has never really bothered me but medical school is expensive and if I can get away with only having to take out small student loans then that's great so … how much do I get when I turn 21?"

"I don't think you'll have to worry about student loans," Judy reassured her daughter, whilst also dancing around the truth.

Charlie eyed her mother. "Because I have …?"

"30 million pounds, that's er … English pounds so with the exchange rate being what it is now probably about … 40 million dollars," Judy replied, her voice barely audible over the sound of her own heart beating.

"Holy fuck," Charlie explained.

Judy's eyes glared towards her daughter. "Charlotte Marie Andrews. Language."

"Sorry," Charlie apologized. "It's just … I mean … I'm a foster kid with no name, yet not legally free for adoption despite no one trying to claim me for 7 years with a bank account worth 40 million dollars, you have to admit that's some fu … messed up blurb for an autobiography if ever there was one," she laughed, realizing that if she didn't laugh she would cry at the weirdness that had just become her life.

"You're not a foster kid Charlotte, not anymore, no matter what the courts say you are our daughter and we love you more than anything in the world," Judy reassured her daughter, moving up next to her and wrapping her arm around the teenager.

Charlie nodded. "I know. And as weird as the money thing is I don't understand how that might help me discover who I was?"

"The trust has a guarantor, someone that oversees it and makes sure it is safe and only used for your benefit until you turn 21. We had contact with her once, not long after you came to us, she offered us an allowance for your upkeep but we declined. Then again a few years later when we asked if they could pay the school fees from the trust … we contacted her a few other times to see if she could be of any help in our bid to adopt you, but she said that was outside her remit and she was just a financial advisor or something along those lines, she might be able to help you though, if you were the one to ask," Judy suggested.

"And you would be ok with that?" Charlotte worried.

Judy held her daughter closer. "Of course, we will help you in whatever way we can."

"Good because … I need to know. I love you guys so much, that will never change but I can feel it in every cell inside me that someone else loved me once, that I was wanted and loved and that … it's hard to explain but I feel like I was part of a team, I have this crazy feeling that my mother … birth mother … Mama," Charlie whispered, not sure where the last part had come from but realizing how right it felt. "That once upon a time it was us against the world and now … I'm here … and she's somewhere and … we were a team, I know we were and I need to know that she's ok even if I can't be in her life I need to find her, I need to let her know that I remember how safe she made me feel even if I don't remember her," Charlie cried, closing her eyes and trying to picture the voice that came with the emotions but again all she could hear was a distant echo.