The time was 9:30 p.m.

A light, cool, steady rain was falling, the moon barely a sliver in the night sky, providing a cover of darkness for what Ivaleigh and Rafael got up to in the bed of his truck, parked near the Topanga Beach shoreline, every reality shoved aside, every line blurred, all senses whirling. Dazed, giggling, collapsing, skin soaked in rain and sweat, Rafael dragged the thick blanket up to waist high, holding her close, his mind wandering, everything floating, slowly cooling.

"What ya thinkin' 'bout?" she murmured after a short, comforting silence.

"Que adoro tu acento. And the day we met. Idiot me, hitting all over the Pink Ladies, til Zuko and Kenickie decided to shove my head in a toilet. Welcome to America ... " He snorted, and she giggled, remembering as well, the first day of their freshman year, when he'd walked into Chemistry (the only class they'd shared that semester), drenched from the shoulders up, short black hair with the thick white stripe standing on end, and had been directed to the seat beside hers. "I didn't know what to make of you, watching you set the teacher's desk on fire just to prove a point. I'm still sorry for insulting you the first time I saw you in LA. I didn't get it, then."

Ivaleigh bit back a laugh. "I'm still sorry, an' not sorry, for punchin' you upon hearin' said insult." Smirking, she stretched out hard, warm and pliant and muttering, "There's a whole helluva lot I gotta do ... Caitríona's right, I should just take my diploma, even with the whole valedictorian thing." She looked him in the eye. "I also likely can't be makin' it with you no more. Not for a while, anyway."

Rafael pouted, and she grinned at him. "An' save the puppy face ... I gotta get my life fixed."

"But you'll do it with a smile on your face." Rafael entreated, and Ivaleigh snorted, laughing.

The laughter died painfully and their bubble shattered six seconds later when a voice from not four feet away thundered Rafael's name, with flashlights suddenly shining in both of their faces.

"Shit!" was breathed – shrieked – simultaneously, as they scrambled up and back, yanking the blanket higher over themselves.

The 'intruders' were Guillermo, Benita (looking both apologetic and apprehensive), Elena (smirking cruelly), and two police officers, one of them young and bearded, the other older and stoic-faced. Guillermo advanced, expression bulging with fury. "I TOLD YOU TO KEEP – "

Rafael recovered at top speed, his sudden fury matching his father's, overriding it; surging onto his knees, dragging Ivaleigh and the protective blanket along with, he roared, "GO TO HELL! Bastardo mentiroso, YOU SAW HOW WORRIED I WAS! You saw my face, you LIED TO ME! You told me you hadn't heard from her! YOU HUNG UP ON HER! DON'T TOUCH ME!", shoving his father back, too livid to care about Guillermo's shocked expression, about Benita's anxious regret. He ignored Elena, knowing without a second thought that she was how he and Ivaleigh had been found.

Guillermo's shock turned to wide-eyed rage. "Boy, you – "

"KISS MY ASS!"

"Why're there cops?" Ivaleigh demanded, her thoughts already spinning, while she dragged her dress back on – not an easy task while keeping the blanket up, but she managed, and met the older officer's eyes steadily while Rafael put one arm around her, ignoring Guillermo now. "What're ya here for?"

The younger officer (who couldn't have been more than twenty-five) stepped forward, pulling a pair of handcuffs out, eyes on Ivaleigh and looking slightly apologetic. "We're here to take you into custody. There's an outstanding warrant for your arrest in Biloxi, Mississippi, for the stealing a nineteen-forty-seven Willys Jeep Station Wagon, belonging to one Sullivan Hargrove. Ivaleigh Storm, you're under arrest for grand theft auto."

Ivaleigh turned white, inhaling a too-sharp breath, shrinking back, while Rafael stared in shock, spluttering, "But ... but she – she had a reason ... " He looked at Benita. "Tell them."

"I'm sorry, Ivaleigh." Benita murmured sincerely. "I wasn't there when Guillermo made the call. Elena followed you, Rafael, to the hotel, apparently that's where the jeep was parked. She called Guillermo and informed him. Everything snowballed from there. I'm sorry, Ivaleigh."

Rafael turned his gaze to Elena, livid betrayal written all over his face. "You promised."

"Hey, the only thing I said was that I heard her say she stole the jeep from some diner in Biloxi. You're the one who can't keep it in your pants. I was concerned that – "

"The hell you were." Rafael cut in harshly, staring at his cousin, angrier with her than he'd ever been. "You don't give a damn about anyone but yourself. Cold-hearted bitch, you. Heard. Everything." He sneered, fist clenching. God give me strength, or I'll be getting locked up. "You know, you're going to make a wonderful doctor, immoral and self-serving as you are." he got out through clenched teeth. He looked at his mother again. "Tell them the truth!"

"The truth will tell itself, Rafael."

"Stay out of it, Benita!" Guillermo commanded thunderously, ignoring as his wife bristled heatedly – there was a fight coming, to be sure. "Boy, get your ass dressed and let's go. And believe me, we're going to be discussing this very thoroughly tomorrow. There will be a family meeting, we all mean to see a stop put to this – whatever this is. Let's. Go. NOW!"

The time was 1:30 am, and the Jeep was at the impound lot. Ivaleigh was trying to listen while Bastian talked at her, but, overwhelmed and wondering what in God's name was going to happen next, her focus was sorely lacking; she heard phrases like "detailed confession", "extradition trial", and "non-parental custody", and knew it was all important, but she simply couldn't stop staring at the wall. Is this what a breakdown is? Rafael.

Guillermo and the older office had both led (forced) a profusely swearing, loudly protesting Rafael away, with Benita and Elena trailing behind, with Elena throwing one last malicious grin over her shoulder at Ivaleigh, with Guillermo swearing that Rafael and Ivaleigh would never see each other again. Ivaleigh couldn't decide which was worse – losing him or losing her freedom.

Lailea, Gwyneth, Stanton, Diamond, Caitríona, and Bastian were now sitting with Ivaleigh in one of the interview rooms at the juvenile detention center that Ivaleigh had been taken to upon her arrest; she'd managed the two phone calls – one to Bastian, one to her grandparents – numbly, her mouth feeling dried, her head feeling full of cotton.

"IVALEIGH!" Lailea shouted in her sister's face, slapping her gently. "IVY!"

Ivaleigh blinked, wobbling. "Um … " She shook her head, eyes enormous; she looked up at Bastian, fighting a sudden onslaught of burning tears, everything shaking, shake, what do I do, shake, Rafe, Rafael ... what do I do now … ?

Setting his clipboard of notes down, Bastian gently shooed Lailea aside to kneel in front of Ivaleigh, gripping both of her wrists, saying firmly, "Ivaleigh, listen to me. Listen to me. It's going to be all right."

Ivaleigh half-swallowed, halfway shook her head, shivered, tears finally escaping; she exhaled, trembling more violently, and that broke her grandparents' hearts, to see her look so frightened. "I ... have ... t' ... "

"The only you have to do regarding this mess is what I tell you." Bastian chose his words. "Ivaleigh, your mother is going to prison. She's going away for starting the fire that killed those people. She'll be sentenced to prison for it, potentially for the rest of her life. She'll never be able to hurt you or Lailea again. She'll also be facing the additional charges in New Augusta, if I can get the motion for the retrial, which I'm certain has a fair chance. Either way, it's over. As for the charge of grand theft auto, I don't think any judge or jury with an ounce of decency or compassion is going to convict you, once all the evidence has been presented. It's also going to be a while, even if a judge does approve extradition, since you're a witness to the case against Ambrosia Lynn. Or whatever the hell her name is."

The words "your mother is going to prison" shattered the fog, and Ivaleigh began listening. She inhaled short, shaking breaths now, a wide bubble of fragile hope filling her slowly. "I … I won't be goin' t' … ? They ain't just gonna send me off t' ... "

"No." Bastian shook his head. "Extradition is all a process of paperwork, from one state to another. At the most, given all the circumstances, you'll probably get probation, and maybe counseling. But let me worry about that." He wriggled his eyebrows at her, giving her and Lailea both a devil-may-care smirk. "I'm fired up, ladies."

"How long am I gonna be in here?" Ivaleigh glanced around at the cold grey walls, then shivered, pulling her cardigan tighter over herself.

"You're not. The law is the police have forty-eight hours to request a civil petition from a prosecutor, but I've already spoken with your arresting officer, and told him to contact Gertrude's arresting officer ... Four thousand phone calls later," Bastian joked mildly, "And you're being set loose with a request to return for more investigation."

Ivaleigh felt herself wilt with relief, tears of joy burning, falling.

"Tell her again what ya meant 'bout non-parental custody." Lailea said, smiling at seeing her sister relax, a small smile forming on Ivaleigh's lips.

"Yes, that … well, your father's kicked it and your mother's a raving, prison-bound lunatic … you don't turn eighteen for another year, so custody has to go to someone. Your grandparents are the best option. You and Lailea could take their name."

Ivaleigh nearly gaped, hearing that, the bubble of hope exploding all over the place – NOTHING had ever sounded better.

"Ivaleigh, you should really take your diploma, dear. One less complication for you to handle." Gwyneth added gently, moving to sit at her granddaughter's side, hugging her close. "We'll get through this. Okay?"

Ivaleigh gave in and laid her head on Gwyneth's shoulder, her mind still spinning, thoughts swimming in all directions, the rage and heartbreak riding with, this is all her fault, all everything she did, all back to her and her lies ... lies ... lies ...

Ivaleigh looked at her sister. "What ... what did Caitríona mean, when she said she wouldn't lie for ... for Gertrude? Back at the school parkin' lot?"

Lailea made a disgusted, impatient expression. "Oh, she ... Mama – Gertrude ... wanted Caitríona t' go along with a lie that I was in a mental joint, cos of what happened. I think it's become anythin' t' blame black people for everythin', for her. What I wonder is what Ma – Gertrude ... meant, when she said "all five animals", when there was only three."

Ivaleigh shrugged, not wanting to care, while Gwyneth and Stanton exchanged significant, disturbed looks, which Bastian noticed. "What are you not saying, Mr. and Mrs. Miller?"

Stanton took a deep breath, at once looking rattled, sickened, uncertain, desperate. "Something happened, when she was sixteen, almost seventeen. But we couldn't ever get her to talk about it. She never said a word." He let out a shaking breath, eyes widening, teeth gritting, remembering something painful. "She walked in one night after a holiday party, with bruises and ripped clothes." He faltered, his stare becoming glassy-eyed.

Gwyneth shivered hard, unutterably sad. "We asked her again and again. But she wouldn't talk. We took her to the hospital, we tried to get the police involved, which proved to be a disaster. They were ... impatient, to say the least." A flash of anger crossed Gwyneth's face. "And Gertrude said nothing. Leonard even pleaded with her, and they didn't get along well, but nothing worked. She screamed at us to leave her alone, that we would never understand. She was probably right. Five months later, she was gone."

"I'm not sorry for the existence of the two of you, by any means ... but I think sometimes I should have let her marry Lyle Harris. Many bad things would have been avoided." Stanton said, in a hollow tone.

There was a long silence, before Ivaleigh asked heavily, "If she was ... d'ya think it was black men?"

Gwyneth shivered again. "I suppose it could be possible." She shook her head tautly. "But the party she went to, like most others ... it was nineteen-thirty-three ... black people wouldn't have been allowed."

"I thought things were better in the north?" Lailea commented, a confused frown puckering.

"In some areas, yes." Stanton replied. "It's a hard topic of talk, though. It can get anyone riled up, given the history. There's blame on all sides."

"No shit." Lailea bit out, her expression turning pinched, furious and heartbroken. Ivaleigh straightened, holding her sister's gaze without a word, and Lailea answered in a raw tone. "Just cos I understand why, don't mean I don't hate them for what they did t' me." She looked at Bastian, the frozen part of her lashing out. "There's part of me that ain't sorry two's dead an' the other's in prison."

She looked back at her grandparents, shoving the memories away with a vengeance. "An' how do I know you two ain't racist? Ya never go near Diamond."

Gwyneth shook her head, saying earnestly, "That's not racism, Lailea, dear, we swear it isn't ... it's that Stanton and I don't think we should get too attached, and it would be so easy. Our great-granddaughter. If you decide to keep her, we may well dote on her, public opinion be damned. But if not, then we feel a distance is best."

Lailea's response was relief out of understanding and for the respect shown, and uncertainty for Diamond's future. "Oh."

At 12:45 the next afternoon, Julio, Daniela, Sofia, and Rafael were running from Rafael's house, leaving the shouting behind, glad that Elena was taking the heat, for once. They were three blocks away in Rafael's truck before anyone spoke.

"Well that was a nice little shit show." Julio offered, stunned with himself – Tadeo would be getting such an earful later.

"Where are we going?" Daniela asked, almost quietly, Elena's diary still in hand. She was both fearful of and defiant that she'd done the right thing – really, she'd just wanted Elena to stop trying to hurt Rafael and Ivaleigh – and at the same time she was trying desperately to wrap her senses around Julio's confession; Sofia wasn't much better, staring at Julio in anxious shock. Shit show's an understatement. What the hell were you thinking?!

"To the hotel where Ivaleigh's staying." Rafael said, nearly buzzing. "She called Michael, who called me, brought me up to speed. I'm shaking Bastian's hand the first chance I get."

A good thing that it had been Benita who had picked up the phone.

Sofia's train of thought abruptly shifted tracks. "Michael's brother? The really cute one?" she sighed dreamily.

"He's in his twenties." Rafael answered, arching an eyebrow at her.

Sofia shrugged, smirking impishly. "Still hot."

"You're not really dating ... dating a ... ¡Oh, Dios, Julio, eso es repugnante!" Daniela erupted. "You have to stop see ... you just, you have to stop!"

Julio whirled in his seat, almost glaring at her. "¿Por qué?" he demanded. "Él me hace feliz, ¿por qué no debería ser feliz?"

"Because it's not right!" Daniela protested. "You heard how loud everyone was yelling at Elena, just for having thoughts about Ivaleigh, before you stood up!" She turned accusing eyes on Rafael. "¡No puedo creer que no dijiste nada!"

"Because I'm not a snitch, Daniela. Now keep your thoughts to yourself and stop yelling. Julio's going to do what he wants, whether any of us like it or not. It took a lot of courage for him to say it. Y por el amor de Dios, ¡NO le digas nada a nadie en la escuela! ¡Lo digo en serio, Daniela! Especially not Roberto. I know you like to tell him everything, but just keep your mouth shut about this!"

Giving his cousin a grateful smile, Julio was trying not to think of the looks on the faces of his parents and younger brother. The liberation was a heartbreak. He was ninety-seven percent certain there would be no family home for him to return to after today. With an enormous bit of luck, they would at least let him keep his clothes and personal belongings? Maybe Tadeo would let him move in.

"C'mon, Dani, just leave it alone. I don't understand any better than you do, but Julio's in enough deep rat crap without you ragging on him. People get killed over this stuff. Let's just stay out of it."

The matter was far from resolved.

It was Lailea (who, like her sister, was still in her pajamas) who answered Rafael's knocking at the Miller's hotel room door some forty-five minutes later, blinking in surprise at the four of them. "Uh ... Hello?"

Behind her, Ivaleigh let out a glad yelp, nearly shoving her sister out of the way, wrapping her arms around Rafael, who returned her embrace, letting his anxiety leave him, pressing his face to her shoulder, breathing in the gardenia scent of her hair. Bastian was sitting at the table on the other side of the room, dressed in jeans and a t-shirt, notepads of information and other paperwork spread out; Michael and Caitríona were sitting on one of the beds, playing with Diamond. Gwyneth and Stanton were sitting on the other bed, watching.

"Can we come in?" Sofia asked. "Oh, damn, have we got a story for you." She walked into the room without waiting for an answer and sat down with determination in the chair across from Bastian's, smiling flirtatiously at him. He paid her two seconds of attention, long enough for a teasing smirk, before returning his attention to the other three.

Rafael closed the door (keeping Ivaleigh's hand in his), Daniela leaned against the wall, stony-faced (Elena's diary had been left in the truck), and Julio began explaining, talking fast. "Well, a family meeting got called, cos el tío Guillermo can't stop losing his mind over you and Rafael, Ivaleigh. La tía Benita got right in his face at one point, yelling that she wasn't going to lose Rafael over this, and for him and Elena to go sit in judgement of themselves, for a change. Daniela was trying to help, I think. She wanted to know why Elena hates you so much, Ivaleigh. She got a hold of Elena's diary, apparently Elena likes guys and girls – "

Ivaleigh's jaw dropped, her responding expression comical in surprise, as Gwyneth's and Stanton's eyebrows arched high, for a moment too taken aback to care that there had been no introductions; Lailea, Michael, and Caitríona merely sat back and enjoyed the show.

"Yes ... and more specifically, you, Ivaleigh. And Carrington there."

Ivaleigh's mouth began opening and closing, resembling a fish breathing underwater, her eyes widening while Michael stiffened, listening intently.

Julio grinned, laughing. "Yeah, so ta-da to that. A lot of yelling and screaming ensued." His grin widened. "Of course, I may or may not have made the biggest mistake of my life so far. I stood up and shouted one very big secret to – "

"NO!" Ivaleigh yelped shrilly, wildly, her hands flying up to her mouth. She looked back and forth quickly between Julio and Rafael, who nodded; she lowered her hands to collarbone level, staring at Julio, the joyful shock fading. "Oh, Julio ... "

Julio nodded, suddenly trembling. "Yeah. The four of us ducked out, cos everyone was yelling at everyone – "

"They let you?" Ivaleigh asked, and Rafael shook his head. "Yeah, well ... some other stuff came to light, that we'd rather not say much on. Has to do with money and the greenhouses. Anyway, Dad was also talking about sending me back to Costa Rica, but Mom really put her foot down there. Not just cos she doesn't want me to go, but cos there's only a few months left til graduation. It'd be stupid for me to change schools now."

"Yeah." Ivaleigh kissed his cheek, then looked back at Julio. "What 'bout you?"

"I don't know. I need to talk to Tadeo." He regarded her closely, echoing, "What about you?"

Ivaleigh exhaled sharply, before looking Rafael in the eyes. "Well ... I'm really thinkin' 'bout takin' my diploma early, for starters. I'd be losin' the valedictorian, but the principal said that don't factor into college apps anyway. But you wanted t' go t' prom."

"Yeah." Rafael sighed, nodding, hugging her close. "Some road ahead of us."

"Yes." Ivaleigh pressed a very quick kiss to his mouth. "An' my manners leave somethin' t' be desired ... you three," she said, gesturing to Sofia, Daniela, and Julio, "This's my sister, Lailea, wave hello. That's Bastian there, an' that's his mama, Caitríona, an' the baby girl's Diamond. An' these are mine an' Lailea's grandparents, Gwyneth an' Stanton Miller."

Greetings were given all around – even Diamond peeped up with "Hi, hi, hi.", which Sofia and Julio answered, while Daniela remained stony-faced – and Rafael stepped away from Ivaleigh just long enough to grip Bastian's hand and shake hard, saying an earnest "Thank you." twice, before asking, "Am I going to be needed as a witness?", moving back to stand beside Ivaleigh, putting an arm around her shoulders.

"Possibly. I'll let you know." He glanced over at Michael. "The same goes for Stephanie, Clara, and Montrell, and the principal."

Michael nodded, as the phone rang; Sofia answered, and it was the front desk operator, saying (timidly) that there was a visitor, and even through the line, Rafael could hear Guillermo bellowing, "BOY GET YOUR ASS DOWN HERE NOW YOU DON'T WANT ME TO COME UP THERE!"

Sofia slammed the phone down, more out of surprise than anything else, then stared at Rafael, wide-eyed. "Um ... "

Four minutes later, Guillermo (with Benita standing behind him) was pounding viciously with both fists on the Millers' hotel room door, roaring for someone to "OPEN THIS GODDAMNED THING UP!" Diamond started crying, prompting Caitríona to take her outside onto the balcony, shutting the sliding door almost all the way behind her. Bastian answered the hotel door with a too-calm, "Yes?"

"GET OUT OF MY WAY – "

Bastian smacked him lightly, just enough to shut him up. "No, I don't think I will. And if you keep all this screaming bullshit harassment up, I'll gladly have your hefty ass tossed in the slammer. I'm a lawyer, I know how to make shit happen." He looked to the woman standing just behind Guillermo, saying politely, "Buenas tardes, you must be Benita."

She nodded, looking drained, and Guillermo began snarling. "You think for a moment I'm going to let my son keep running around with that southern-baked whore, you've got another thing – "

Stanton was off the bed, moving faster than Ivaleigh or Lailea would have thought possible; shouldering Bastian out of the way, he went nose to nose with Guillermo, fury and nothing else. "What did you just call my granddaughter?"

Lailea and Ivaleigh looked at each other, then back at their grandfather, touched, amused, shocked, impressed. Grinning widely.

"Stanton, dearling." Gwyneth's voice wobbled with laughter and unease. "Easy, now. You're not back in the middle of the Great War."

"You served?" Lailea asked, and Gwyneth answered, "He was stationed for a year in France, he was sent home after being wounded during the Battle of Verdun." She sighed rather heavily. "Can't say I'm sorry for that." She wasn't about to mention all the years it had taken him afterwards, to escape the drinking and the depression, to sleep without dreaming terrible things.

Stanton gave her a pained, grateful, loving smile, then looked back at Guillermo, the angry flintiness returning. "What's been your sacrifice for anything, sir? You, who goes around calling young ladies whores."

Benita stepped forward, exhaling, fighting for control over her roiling emotions. "Guillermo, hold your tongue for once in your life. Rafael is the only reason I married you, and I've told you before, I won't lose my son over this."

Guillermo fell silent, staring at his wife in shock – believe it or not, he loved her. Benita ignored him, asking Stanton politely, "May I come in?"

"You may, miss. Your husband stays where he is." Gwyneth replied coolly, smiling.

Brushing his fingers against her shoulder, Julio stopped her. "Tía Benita, ¿qué dijeron mis padres?" he asked, bracing himself even as he knew what the answer would be. He met her uncertain, vaguely repulsed stare with a frown. "Just tell me, please. What did they say?"

Benita stared fiercely at him, no understanding and little sympathy, before saying harshly, "You'll be safer to keep away, Julio."

Julio's face fell, hurt and disappointed but not surprised.

Daniela started pleading a case. "Estás enfermo, Julio, necesitas ayuda – "

"He ain't sick, Daniela, it's fear an' ignorance that's the disease!" Ivaleigh protested fierily, staring Daniela in the eye. "Straights treat gays the same way whites treat blacks, an' it's beyond stupid! D'ya want t' know how many rent-boys I seen goin' 'round? Some of them sweet as sugar – "

"What's a rent-boy – never mind, I don't wanna know." Daniela looked back at Ivaleigh, defiant. "I don't understand how – "

"Ya don't have t' understand! It's 'bout showin' some respect. Bible-thumpers argue that God condemns homosexuality – "

"Yes." Daniela said fervently, while Benita stared curiously at Ivaleigh.

"The bible wasn't written by God or Jesus, Daniela, just men. An' the word homosexual wasn't even added til 'bout twenty years ago."

"I don't think it matters, either way." Sofia offered quietly. "I don't think Julio will be ... um ... welcome back ... Uncle Diego and Aunt Sara seemed ... " She looked unnerved. Ivaleigh looked back at Julio, murmuring his name.

Julio glanced at Rafael, then took an uncertain, trembling breath and made up his (still frightened, seventeen-year-old) mind. "I need to call Tadeo. Excuse me."

"You can use the phone in mine an' Lailea's room." Ivaleigh offered. "C'mon."