A/N: Trigger warning for rape/abuse halfway through this chapter.

Fuck. Fuckity fuck fuck. Santana tiptoed her way closer to her mother's bedroom while still keeping herself hidden from view. Her brain had been trained to think fast in these situations, and Santana had to admit she was best on her feet. They could just tell Claire the truth. Shelby had found the box in the girls closet and wanted to keep it away from them. She would simply avoid mentioning that the box was only discovered because Quinn had taken to trying to drown her sorrows. Santana pursed her lips in frustration. That wouldn't fly. There's no way any good social worker would let a woman with a history of alcoholism get away with a secret stash under her bed without penalty. Fuck. She was just starting to think maybe there was some kind of hope for her mother to start fresh with Quinn and Rachel, and her sisters needed that. She had to come up with something fast.

Or did she? As she focused her attention on the voices in the next room, she was shocked to find they weren't talking about her mini liquor bottles after all.

"Oh," she heard her mother half laugh out. "Just a little art project I threw together years ago. It kept me...occupied a lot. It's silly."

From the living room Santana bent forward and peered into the bedroom to see. Claire was holding up something that resembled a homemade windchime made out of what looked like old glass bottles and string. She could see that there were pictures inside some of the bottles and tied around the neck of each bottle were hair ribbons Santana could remember wearing as a young child.

"Oh my goodness, look at how cute they are," Claire smiled examining the different bottles. She heard the smile in her mother's voice as she replied.

"Mmm. They really were. They kept me smiling. Although," her toned changed, "it feels wrong to look at this without Rachel represented somewhere. I haven't thought about this thing in years."

Santana had a few decent memories of childhood and assumed things gradually got worse as time went on. Of course, things had gotten worse as time went on, but she realized that perhaps Leroy didn't turn evil, he just always was, and her mother had to live with that long before she had children. Santana had always assumed Leroy hated her and hated Quinn for ruining whatever life he was living before they came into it since their mother constantly defended him growing up, but perhaps Shelby gave up so easily now because she was tired of fighting.

"It's never too late to add to it," came Claire's calm voice. "Learn to trust yourself Shelby. From our handful of meetings I can tell that the person standing in your way is you. I know you love your daughters, but you need to show them."

"I.. I'm trying," Shelby said despondently. Santana could practically see the hopelessness on her face. She hated how quickly her mother could give up. She yearned for her to fight for them. Fight like she must've in the years before she had kids. "I don't know what they need... they are so independent."

Santana held herself back from barging into the room and explaining they wouldn't be nearly half as independent as they were if they weren't forced to be. She decided against making a scene, and continued listening as Claire informed Shelby that she had set up a spot for her in an AA meeting tomorrow morning. If Shelby didn't attend, she'd receive a demerit that wouldn't bode well for the future of their family.

"I know that talking about something that has controlled you for years isn't easy, Shelby, but if you truly want to keep your girls in your custody, this is the first step. If you don't attend these meetings regularly, as well as meet with our appointed therapist once a week, we will have to look at other options."

Santana felt like Leroy had just kicked her in the stomach and her heart was ready to come out of her mouth. Santana knew they didn't have other options. There were no relatives that could take them in and they'd surely be placed in foster care until their mother could prove she had her act together. Quinn and Rachel needed a mother. The one they had certainly wasn't the best, but she was theirs and Santana would make damn sure they stayed put. She couldn't keep her presence hidden any longer. Pretending she hadn't been listening the entire time, Santana leaned on the doorframe to her mother's bedroom.

"Mom?" she feigned an innocent voice. "I heard voices. Hi Claire.. what are you doing here?"

She could see Shelby from her peripherals and knew her mother was on to her strange behavior. Claire however, took the bait.

"Hi Santana. How are you? This was just a quick, unscheduled check-in to see how you are all doing," she smiled. Santana wanted to scoff. The woman wanted to smile like it was two in the afternoon and not nine o'clock at night. "Things seem quiet here. Where are your sisters?"

Santana shifted so her back was on the doorframe and her feet touched the opposite end, almost like a barrier blocking anyone from leaving the room.

"In bed," she said simply. "Rachel's usually always out like a light by nine and Quinn has been tired recently. Obviously," she said aggressively. She could see her mother want to step in and intervene, but her insecurities about being judged as a mother in front of social worker won over. She stood actively hesitant. "Did I hear you talking with my mom about plans or something?"

She watched as Claire shared a look with Shelby and Santana wanted to dare them to lie to her. Claire turned to face the young girl directly.

"Yes, actually. I was telling your mom about some classes and appointments that we've set for her in the hopes that she will participate. It's important that we see some improvement and that she can prove she's capable of taking care of you three as well as herself."

"She will," Santana said boldly. Her brown eyes staring down into Claire's soul. Santana knew she could be scary and intimidating and she was counting on that now. She was the one with the control in this house and she would make sure CPS wouldn't take that away from her. If they wanted her mother to improve, Santana would make her improve.

"I certainly hope so, Santana. I was just explaining that if she didn't-"

"She. Will."

Claire blinked and Santana could tell the woman was studying her. She was used to this. Sue Sylvester, Mr. Schuester, nearly half the Glee club, and even Joe downstairs had all given her this look before. The look of a person who is taken aback by the young girl in front of them. The girl with a ferocious, spunky personality that did not quit. The look of a person who at first glance, underestimated her. She was proud that very quickly all of those people had come to know and respect Santana for exactly who she was. Aggression, passion, rage, and all. This was simply Claire's first real look at Santana unhidden by sarcastic and defensive quips.

Seemingly having studied her long enough, Claire put a gentle hand on Santana's shoulder. "Your mom is lucky to have you in her corner. So are your sisters. I hope you know that I'm in yours."

Santana didn't respond verbally. Just kept her eyes locked on Claire's. The social worker didn't seem shaken. In fact, to Santana, it seemed as though she had been in similar situations many times before. The woman turned back to Shelby.

"How's Quinn been doing, Shelby?"

Santana interjected. "She's fine."

Claire turned her head back to Santana. "I asked your mother, Santana."

Shelby looked unsure between Santana and Claire. "Uh.. I, yes. She's doing as well as can be expected I'd say."

Santana tried to catch her mother's eye to silently beg not to say anything about Quinn's recent curiosity with alcohol. Protect her, damnit she thought.

Catching her daughter's eye, Shelby continued. "I mean, I'm hoping the more she sees her therapist, the more progress she can make."

Claire nodded, satisfied. "I hope so. For you too, Shelby."

The rest of the Claire's late night visit passed quickly. She checked the refrigerator, she peeked in on a sleeping Rachel and Quinn, and made small talk about pizza and the holidays before leaving. Santana excused herself from the small talk conversation because she literally couldn't care less about what perfect Claire-the-social-worker was doing with her perfect family for Christmas. She instead made her way back to her mother's bedroom. She saw the wind chime laying forgotten on the bed. She sat down on the soft comforter and picked it up, examining the pictures that decorated the bottles.

Santana couldn't remember the last time her mother took a photo of her and was surprised she had so many from her early childhood. In one, a little Santana posed next to baby Quinn in a stroller underneath their mother's name on a Broadway marquee. Her little arm outstretched with fingers pointing to the name. Santana chuckled to herself, she was certain at the time she had no idea what she was pointing to. There was another, a close up of Quinn mid-giggle. Just two bottom teeth breaking through her gums. A few wispy strands of blonde hair held together by a yellow bow. That same bow was wrapped around the neck of the bottle. She ran her fingers absent-mindedly over the bow that was still soft nearly 13 years later. Another showed a five year-old Santana in her mother's heels putting lipstick on a two year old Quinn's face, the younger of the two wearing a pout. Santana smiled. Typical Quinn.

The next made her breath hitch. It was her at an age that couldn't have been more than two or three, sitting on her mother's lap. Santana's chubby arms were grabbing either side of Shelby's face and her mother was laughing. Santana was certain she had never seen a smile that big on her mother before. If this photo didn't exist, Santana would say it was impossible. It looked like true love between mother and daughter. Santana wished they could go back and start over. That Shelby would find the strength to leave Leroy years before he would try to kill her and rape her daughter. She couldn't take her eyes off the photo. Then, she realized that in the small space between their heads in the photo, was a mirror where the photographer's reflection could be seen. It was her father. She could almost make out the shadow of a smile on his face. It disgusted her. The photo was instantly made false. They had never been a happy family, and she refused to acknowledge what this photo was saying.

"I forgot I had even made that," her mother said and she entered the room. Santana looked up and wanted to see the woman in the photo in the bottle she currently held, but the woman in front of her looked nothing like the carefree Shelby that existed in the photograph.

She sighed. "It's cool. I never saw these before."

Shelby smiled sadly. "I'm sorry about that," she said. "I think I have more in a box in my closet. A little different than what you keep in a box in yours," her mother said gently nudging her in the shoulder and sitting down next to her.

Santana smiled but stayed silent. She kept quiet for fear of crying if she tried to speak. The small, joking gesture spoke volumes to her. She knew her mother was in there somewhere. She just prayed she'd be able to pull her out.

"You need to go to all those sessions or whatever the fuck she was saying," Santana warned. She watched as her mother nodded noncommittally. "You have to, Mom. Whatever it takes. If not, they'll separate us and that'll be on you. Please. I can help you here. I can help you understand them and talk to them, but you have to go to the meetings, okay?"

Her mother didn't have a chance to respond, as an ear-splitting scream came from the girls bedroom.

Santana was bolting from the room in a millisecond. Her legs instantly knowing where to go. She could hear her mother right on her heels.

The scream got louder as she approached the room and she didn't have to open the door to know they were Quinn's. Rachel's voice, rising with each word, could be heard trying to break through the screams.

Upon entering the room, Santana's eyes darted to Quinn's bed. The younger girl was thrashing violently in her bed, screams and yelled nonsense coming from the back of her throat. She gently moved Rachel from the side of Quinn's bed to the foot of it, so Santana could have better access to her blonde sister. She didn't miss the tears streaming down the eight-year-old's face.

"Quinn! Shhh, shhh. It's okay." The desperation she felt now was matched only by getting Quinn out of the hospital bathroom the dreaded day they found her. When Quinn only screamed louder, Santana realized she was still asleep, stuck in a nightmare.

"Quinn, wake up!" she pleaded. "Please, wake up Quinn! It's Santana. It's me, Quinn, wake up!"

When she didn't, she turned to Rachel, who Shelby had wrapped in a hug trying to calm her. "What happened?" she demanded from Rachel.

"I-I-I..." the little girl stammered.

Santana tried to grab Quinn's shoulders to pin her down and stop her from moving so violently. She felt herself start to sweat when Quinn started fighting against her.

"NO!" the blonde screamed. "No! Please! L-Let me g-go!"

Santana turned back to a frightened, crying Rachel while trying to dodge Quinn's flailing hands and feet. "Tell me what happened, Rachel!"

Rachel gripped onto her mother tighter. "N-Nothing. She was whimpering and it woke me up, so I went over to wake her u-up," she sniffled, tears pouring from her eyes and nose. "S-she hit me and started yelling! I-I'm scared."

"It's a night-terror, Santana," came Shelby's anguished voice. "Not just a nightmare. We have to wake her up."

Santana didn't know what a night-terror was or how to wake a person up from one. She commanded Rachel to get Quinn's iPod and start playing whatever classical songs she could find. Santana was hit with a pang of guilt as she watched Rachel untangle herself from her mother's embrace and wipe the tears from her face as she dug around for Quinn's iPod. All she had ever wanted was to maintain Rachel's innocence for as long as she could, but clearly she had failed. She was unable to stop Rachel from witnessing so much in the past few weeks, and there was no taking any of it back. She was solely responsible for Rachel gradually losing bits of her childhood.

"Quinn..." came her mother's voice, and Santana had to shut it down. Their mother was not who Quinn needed.

"Stop. She's going to want me when she wakes up," she said harshly. Quinn's confession of only feeling safe with Santana echoing in her brain. She turned to place her hands on Quinn's face. Her skin warm to the touch. "Quinn..."

The blonde continued to thrash, unable to escape the very real memories that gripped her mind in sleep.

"You're smart Quinn. It's a shame you don't have my blood in you. But then again, we couldn't have had all the fun we had if you did."

Her silent prayer for her mother to wake up and save her went unheard. She swallowed and turned to face Leroy as he entered the room. She tried to remain unafraid.

"What are you doing here? Come to check out the damage you caused?"

Her own words surprised her. She would never dare talk back to her father that way under normal circumstances for fear of what he might do. Maybe the bustling hospital was giving her confidence. He wouldn't dare put a hand on her here.

"Shut up," he spat and gave her a whack on the back of her head. She watched as he slowly made his way closer to her mother's bed and kept his eyes on the hallway outside the room. He pulled out a pocket knife and snipped the thin cord attached to the nurse call button.

"What are you-"

Her question died on her lips as Leroy made his way back to her, closing the door halfway to block them from view.

"Sshhh, Quinn. Stop asking so many questions."

He whispered the words into her neck from behind, the almost flirtatious tone in his voice causing her blood to run cold. She could feel the handle of his pocketknife against her spandex-covered thigh. She felt her breathing become shallow and quick. He guided her face to look at him and she kept her eyes downcast.

"For your mother's bastard kid, you really are so beautiful."

One hand remained on her face while the other rose to grope her small breast through her Cheerios uniform. She choked back a sob.

"Please," she pleaded in a barely audible whisper.

"Your wish is my command," he said with a firm squeeze to her chest. She felt her heart fall to her stomach. He was using her own words against her.

"Go into the bathroom, now," Leroy commanded. Quinn looked over to her mother through tears, hoping beyond hope that the woman would wake up. Come to her rescue like she had done those few times in the past. He must've seen her longing. "She doesn't give a shit about you, you know. Hates herself too much to give a damn about anything. But me, oh but me, I can take care of you. Let me show you..."

Quinn shook her head violently and swallowed the lump in her throat. "N-no."

This was the wrong thing to say. Leroy roughly pulled Quinn out of her chair and all but dragged her into the hospital room's bathroom, shutting and locking the door behind them. "You dare tell your father, no? I am the man that raised you out of the goodness of my fucking heart." He hit her across the face and she felt herself fall to the cold tile floor beneath her. This couldn't be happening. Anytime this happened at home, Santana came to intervene, but her sister wasn't here to save her now. Rachel wasn't here to distract him, and her mother had rarely saved her when this happened at home, how could she think she'd wake up and save her now?

Leroy removed her Cheerios jacket and felt her up through her uniform again. She held her breath. It was all she could do.

"Now, you're gonna pay me back for all I've done, got it? I see how you look at me, Quinn. I know you're at an age where you have desires. Listen to your body," he whispered. That same flirtatious tone returned to his voice. "Just like the other day. Just relax."

She let out a dry sob as he moved to touch her under her skirt and began to rub. His moans of pleasure were too much for her to listen to, so she tried to focus on the sounds of her cries instead. He demanded her to pull down her leggings and when she refused, she felt her dignity leave as he roughly did it for her. He pulled down her underwear and stared at her like a dog stares at meat. She felt like dry heaving. She crossed her legs on the ground to prevent him from looking at her further. She kept her eyes on the multi-colored tiles she sat on, but could see in the corner of her eye Leroy pulling down his own pants. It was the first she'd ever seen a penis. She wasn't even old enough to be taking the Health class in school that taught students sexual education. It scared her. She felt fear, genuine fear, course through her veins. From her brain to her feet, she was frozen.

"Touch it," he said. All she could do was close her eyes and shake her head. Leroy was impatient and likely knew he didn't have much time to work with before someone came to check on Shelby. He grabbed Quinn's hand and placed it on his penis. "Fucking touch it, or I will kill your mother. I'll kill them all. And then I'll kill you. I'm not kidding. Fucking touch it."

She did as she was told. Small hiccups escaping her mouth as she cried. She had no idea what she was doing or what he wanted her to do, but he seemed pleased and had stopped threatening her, so she kept her hand on the appendage.

The rest happened so quickly. Suddenly, he was picking her up and rubbing her private area with his fingers, hard. He closed the lid on the toilet bowl and placed her on his lap, lining himself up to enter her. She felt her body reflexively jerk away from him. "NO! No! Please! L-Let me g-go!"

He didn't let her go, and her small, thin frame was no match for him. He chuckled and sighed in relief as he entered her. "You're a good girl, Quinn. Oh yeah, so fucking good. Don't ever say I didn't give you the most - oh yeah - love in your life!"

Tears poured from Quinn's eyes as the pain she felt took over her entire body. She felt as though she was being split in two. She tried to wriggle free, but moving only made it worse. She felt something trickle down her thigh and opened her eyes to see a small river of blood make its way down her leg. The tears flowed harder.

"You fucking love it. That's right. Crying for me, you want it so bad. Take it." He pushed harder into her and Quinn felt like she might throw up. He had gripped onto her hair which was now falling down out of its ponytail. She didn't want to cry. Didn't want to fight him if it meant him hurting her family. Maybe this was the price she had to pay for her family to finally be rid of him. Maybe he'd leave them alone for good. But still, the pain and the fear twisted together and coursed through her body like an electric current. She saw black spots and could feel herself fading in and out of the present.

"M-Mommy," she cried feebly. "Mom..." Then, with more desperation, "Santana... Santana!"

She wasn't sure if it was her mind playing tricks on her, but she thought she could hear noises from the other side of the door. Was that her mother screaming for her? And Santana, yes! She had come for her. She always did.

"SANTANA!"

Quinn screamed out her sister's name and fell out of her bed and onto the floor and back into consciousness and the present reality. Her breathing was so fast she thought she may be having a heart attack. The faint sounds of Bethoven began to fill her ears and she felt herself calm down enough to take in her surroundings. She looked around and saw she was in her bedroom, on the floor. She was met with three sets of wide eyes in the form of her sisters and mother. Rachel was crying and the snot coming out of her nose would've repulsed Quinn in any other moment. Her mother stared at her, tears and fear evident in her big brown eyes. Santana was inches away from her. Searching her face for what, Quinn wasn't sure. She felt her heart pick up again at the thought of Leroy. Like a ninja, she quickly jumped to her feet tripping over her blankets. It felt much too similar to the spandex around her ankles. She felt a sob escape her lips, but continued to look around for her father.

"W-where is he? He - I - he was here," she said. She was wired but dazed. Everything felt foggy.

She looked back toward Santana who was shaking her head, eyes filled with tears that threatened to fall.

"No, Q he isn't. I promise he's not here. It's just us," she said. "Just me."

Quinn looked around the room once more. The sounds of the music doing an excellent job of quelling her high anxiety. When her brain was able to make sense of the fact that was home, not in the hospital, and surrounded by her sisters, she turned back to Santana and launched herself into the older girl's arms.

Santana held her and rocked her on the floor as if she was a small child. She whispered sweet, reassuring nothings into her ear. Santana could feel her shirt grow wet with Quinn's tears and part of her was happy that her sister was finally letting it out. She'd had panic attacks, shutdowns, mood swings, and acted out, but she had yet to truly cry and Santana was grateful it was happening now. She wasn't sure what Quinn's night terror had been about exactly, but she could wager a decent guess. She was once again forced to rethink every action she had made in protecting Quinn and Rachel. When were things finally going to give in? When would Quinn get better? Would she? How would Rachel describe a normal family? Was it this?

She felt Rachel kneel down next to her. The young girl put her head on Santana's shoulder, wiped her nose with the back of her hand, and used the same hand to rub circles on Quinn's back. Both girls said nothing and just sat on the ground comforting their sister the only way they could in the moment.

Shelby looked on at the three of them. She hadn't realized the extent of what Leroy had done to them until this very moment. She saw three tortured souls on the floor of an innocent pink bedroom. She had managed to convince herself that the babies in the photographs she hoarded in her bedroom still existed. She couldn't let herself believe that her children fell victim to Leroy's abuse at the level at which they did. She would tell herself that some parents preferred corporal punishment. That is wasn't for everyone, but for Leroy, it worked. A swat on the bottom here or there wouldn't hurt. She chose to ignore the particularly loud yelps or screams she'd hear from the bedroom. Little girls can overreact, she'd tell herself. He's not doing anything treacherous to them, just discipline. When her doubt would creep in, the bottle was there. It made her numb to the world around her. With the alcohol, her girls were happy and safe. With the alcohol, Leroy was a loving husband and father. With the alcohol, she could forget reality and things would be okay. Right now, staring at the heap of her three daughters on the ground, she needed to forget.

She made her way past the girls and back to her own bedroom. It was by luck that Claire had picked up the box with her wind chime in it, for laying right next to that was Santana's liquor stash. She untwisted the cap off the Jameson and took a sip. She turned to face herself in the mirror, wishing it could talk to her like in Snow White. She certainly wasn't the kindest or fairest of them all, but she needed someone to tell her what to do. To tell her how to get out of this mess she had allowed to be created.

"You shouldn't drink that," came a small voice from the doorway. Rachel stood, tear-stained cheeks in a Frozen nightgown, staring imploringly at her mother. "Please, mama, don't do that."

The little girl began to cry again. Shelby put the little bottle down on her dresser and fell into a sitting position on the bed. She held her arms out for Rachel, who fell into them naturally.

"I am so, so sorry, Rachel," she cried. Small tears fell from the woman's eyes, down the length of her nose, and into Rachel's soft brown hair. "I- I'm gonna make it better for us, okay? I- I don't know how, but I'm going to. It's all going to go away.."

Rachel nodded her head in her mother's lap. Shelby rocked her just as Santana was still to Quinn down the hall.

Quinn had exhausted herself into falling asleep on the floor in Santana's arms. The older girl continued to hold her, unwilling to let go. She had never seen a person react so harshly to a dream before and was scared it would happen again. At least holding Quinn would make them both feel safe.

She eventually was brave enough to stand and led a sleep-walking Quinn back to her bed. Santana returned the blankets to their rightful position and tucked her sister in, not too tight, but enough so that she'd be warm and comfortable.

She felt her mind in overdrive. She couldn't do this anymore. She couldn't keep trying to hide the truth when people were slowly finding out, she couldn't keep trying to protect Quinn and Rachel when all it had done was backfire. She couldn't even feel the tears falling from her eyes, but she still managed to angrily wipe them away. She laid on Rachel's bed, for some reason it was more comforting to her than her own. She got out her phone and shot Brittany a text to see if she was awake. A few silent minutes later, with several glances over to Quinn to make sure she was alright, the phone beeped back with Brittany's response.

She got up and crawled into the closet as she had earlier that day to fight with Quinn. It seemed like a lifetime ago. The closet would swallow her voice to prevent Quinn from waking up, but allowed her to still keep watch on the girl.

She dialed Brittany's number and waited for the girl to answer.

"Hello?" came Brittany's voice. It was full of concern.

Santana opened her mouth to speak, but no words came out. Instead, she cried into the phone and was unable to stop.

"Santana?" the alarm in Brittany's voice broke Santana's heart. She never wanted anyone to pity her, but some things were bound to be inevitable. "What's wrong? Are you there?"

She shook her head even though the blonde couldn't see her. "N-No. I-I need to tell you everything..I just don't know how."

She tried with all her might to start from the beginning, but she didn't even know where the beginning was. Instead, she talked in nonsensical circles that Brittany couldn't follow. It was Brittany's idea to not talk about whatever it was Santana needed to talk about and instead calm down. They promised to meet for breakfast before school in the morning so Santana could tell her.

"I love you, Santana. Whatever hit is, it's going to be okay."

Santana's palms grew sweaty. She had never heard Brittany drop the L bomb so passionately before. They were best friends, she assumed they were girlfriends again even though things were weird, and they told each other they loved one another all the time, but not like this. Not the for real way. Brittany's voice sounded for real. She whispered a "me too" back into the phone and hung up.

She crawled out of the closet and into bed with Quinn. She could see Quinn's brow furrowing in discomfort in her sleep. Santana stroked her hair to calm her and eventually, Santana joined her in a fitful night's sleep.

There is Chapter 21! Thank you all so much for the reviews and for continuing to read! This chapter was particularly painful, but I hope you still enjoyed reading. Please continue to let me know what you think. The motivation is real! I wanted this chapter to be longer, but decided I should cut if off before getting into the next section.

Spawn - Thank you as always for your detailed reviews! Quinn absolutely needs professional help and I plan to highlight that in the coming chapters. She will not be an easy case study. Shelby is frustrating! Root for her, hate her, it's a constant push-pull. She is trying to try.

Nostalgyaaa- Thanks so much for the review! The angst definitely continued in this chapter, but I plan to balance it out. Thank you so much for continuing to read!

IceK04 - Thank you so much for the review and for reading. Hope you enjoy this chapter!

Jennifer - Glad you love it! Here's more! Not a ton of Shelby, but more to come...

Charmedbycharmed - Thank you for your review! Shelby is trying. I think she may have been able to hit a turning point in this chapter. Quinn is struggling a lot, which will call for a lot of San/Quinn moments. Some will be happy, some sad lol. Hoping to eventually get into Quinn's father. Stay tuned!

MaudeLebowski - Thank you, as always for the review! I hope you are staying safe and healthy, and enjoy this chapter!

Guest - Thank you so much! I hope you enjoy this update!