"Hai procrastinato, ragazza." Siena-Rosa declared, looking stern and worried.

Stephanie sat down across from them, asking, "What are you talkin' about?", although she thought she knew.

"It's been nearly three months, and I haven't heard one peep from you about apartments or schools." Jake said. "I went and peeked at the notebook on your writing desk that had 'Apartment Info' written on the front. The whole damn thing was empty. Why is that? And no beating around the bush, either, Stephanie Marie."

Stephanie slid her hands through her hair, gripping it, while she breathed out though her nose – irritated as she was at her father's snooping, there was no point in arguing with him when he used her middle name. "Cos every time I try, I can't focus. I keep gettin' this feeling that something's gonna happen, soon, and that looking for apartments or schools or whatever right now is stupid."

She didn't want to get into the fact that the dreams of the garden and the dance with her faceless stranger were still plaguing her once a week.

Stephanie looked at her father and grandmother, her eyes honest. "I don't know. I hate it, but there's nothin' I can do about it. I still don't know what I wanna go for."

She made a face – the last time it had been this stymying had been the day she'd lost her mother, but she wasn't about to mention that to Jake. Hope for the good changes only, he always said, just like Mary had always said (and even she'd known, on that terrible day, that something was going to happen).

Jake was willing to bet that Michael Carrington would have something to do with whatever 'thing' Stephanie felt was going to happen (and Siena-Rosa, having been fully informed, was considering the same, and was doubly determined in I want to meet this boy of hers!). "Fair, I suppose ... I'll give you until the end of next summer. Whatever is that's going to happen should have come and gone by then. Come September, you need to start looking at apartments, at least."

Stephanie exhaled. "Fine. Deal."

"Good. In the meantime, between now and then, in your spare time, you and I are going to do shopping for housewares and appliances. We'll go room by room, and we'll use some of the money that's been put away for you." Siena-Rosa told her. "The kitchen will be the most important place to start."

"Why, am I gonna be a housewife?" Stephanie demanded harshly, stiff as a board and rubbed raw from the events of the last week or so.

"Are you?" Siena-Rosa countered smoothly, her eyebrows raised, a wicked smirk forming – the girl had too much wild Irish blood in her to ever stay put.

Stephanie's eyes flashed, darkening while she bristled hotly. "Hell, no."

There's Mary, Jake thought, smiling – Mary had been convinced, before Stephanie had even been born, of just how feisty her daughter would be.

"Yet still, you'll need to cook." Siena-Rosa concluded, almost dryly, while Jake smirked. "We begin with the kitchen, as it will need the most pieces purchased. Everything else will be far easier."

It was a Monday.

It was the first day back after fall break; with the whispers flying, just about everyone who wasn't a T-Bird or a Pink Lady couldn't/wouldn't stop staring at Michael, the new T-Bird leader, dressed in the T-Bird jacket; even the teachers and Miss McGee had looks to give.

Bruce Sanders made sure to bellow the news, standing on the front lawn of the school and shouting it out through a bullhorn, while Eugene looked on with a growing sense of foreboding, while Jeannie Beachwood stood back, impressed and amused. Bruce took it all a step further by also shouting that the Pink Lady codes had been amended, then repeated what he'd heard Danny tell Johnny, that it was very likely that Danny wouldn't be taking the T-Bird jacket back from Michael until after graduation, regardless of what happened with Johnny.

Johnny had been more than ready to start swinging, with Goose following right behind; just before the start of English Lit, Michael told them both, with that infuriating rationale, to Let it go, the pair of you, there isn't anyone here who wouldn't have found out, no matter who talked first.

Louis and Davey privately agreed, while Goose and Johnny both glared mutinously, before Rhonda steered Goose away, while Paulette started cozying up to Johnny, dragging him away to their seats (she thought she might drag him off to the janitor's closet the first chance she got).

Towards the end of the first period was when Miss Mason announced the mid-term, to the general moans and groans: An in-class exam that would take place over two full class periods (on the last two days of school before winter break), with the first section being multiple-choice questions, and the second being a one to three page essay.

"The questions section will cover the material that we've studied this semester, so brush up. The essay will be your opinion of Jem and Scout from 'To Kill A Mockingbird', on how they change during the course of the events, and how they remain the same. Read the novel and be sure to pay attention to every line. Take notes, they'll be allowed for the essay."

Stephanie still wasn't looking at or talking to Paulette or Johnny (no matter what Paulette tried), and before classes started for the day, she explained to Violet, Lucy, and Jeannie exactly why, mostly because they'd noticed and asked a stream of questions until Stephanie cracked; within the hour, that particular bit of news had spread throughout the school.

Paulette stared towards Stephanie, wounded and trying again to get the girl's attention, and Stephanie ignored her, turning her back firmly, while Sharon and Rhonda pressed their mouths in a line. Johnny blew up, hollering at Stephanie about the protection of his reputation, and Stephanie marched away quickly towards her Economics class, with Michael not far behind.

"You know what your reputation is, Jack? It's that you're a complete ass!" Violet snapped, glaring at him. Lucy nodded, adding, "Outside of Paulette and Goose here, and maybe DiMucci and Jaworski, no one here gives a crap about you!" They flounced away towards their own classes without waiting for an answer.

Throughout the day, the rest of the mid-terms were assigned, and at lunch, Delores yelled from her place next to Rhonda, "Hey, Carrington, we got a seat for ya!"

Michael moved close enough to make sure he was heard over the surging tidal wave of noise from all the other students. "Thank you, Delores, but that's really all right. I think I'm better off sitting with Rafael, I don't need Johnny trying to spit in my food." Goose had already given him a good kick in the leg earlier that morning, prompting an argument with Rhonda. Sharon, Louis, and Davey were wisely keeping their mouths shut.

Johnny glared sourly (smugly) in his direction, while Stephanie departed for the bleachers outside, needing the air; Paulette's head was still aching from the shouting match she'd gotten into with Bernadette the night before, when she'd announced that she was quitting the tutoring; that particular fight had lasted for a good hour, before Paulette had conceded, mostly because she'd wanted to go to bed.

"That is your favorite place, isn't it?" Bernadette had hissed before she could stop herself; looking mildly appalled and shame-faced (but at the same time looking so damn tired of Paulette's antics), Bernadette had gone to her own room, slamming the door shut behind her. Seeing the expression on her sister's face, Delores had advised, "May as well suck it up, buttercup. You hurt people with the shit you do. G'night."

Sitting down, Michael noticed first that Rafael looked distinctly agitated and worried, since Ivaleigh wasn't there (he hadn't heard from her since yesterday morning, and hadn't seen her since Thanksgiving Day), bringing on the questions from Valeria, Roberto, and Anna Maria (as well as several others) that he couldn't answer, since he had promised ... any more than he could tell about just what was going on that had Julio, Enrique, Daniela, and Sofia sitting so stiff and silent, neither really looking at the other.

Neither Enrique nor Julio would really look at or talk to anyone, least of all each other.

Daniela kept chewing at her lip, glancing at Julio with narrowed eyes, looking like she wanted to hurl a diatribe at him. Roberto finally gave up trying to get her attention and left the cafeteria – Daniela barely noticed – with Anna Maria and Valeria following suit.

Sofia let slip, in a quiet voice to Michael, that Elena had exiled herself to a hotel room for the foreseeable future, taking only some clothes, personal effects, and some money. Presently, she was eating alone out on the bleachers.

"And your parents are all right with that?" Michael asked carefully, aiming for a light treading.

Sofia's head wobbled, her eyes wildly uncertain. "Mom said they're cutting Elena off right after graduation. Elena wants to be a doctor. It makes my stomach hurt."

Michael nodded, and thought for a moment. "Elena is also a very stubborn woman. I think if she really wants to, she will."

Daniela finally cracked. "This is a mistake, what you're doing is wrong!" she hissed at Julio, and Enrique frowned deeply, shaking while he intervened with, "Remember what our parents told us – "

Julio got up and walked away, taking his bookbag with him and leaving his untouched lunch behind. Enrique stared after his brother for a moment, then looked back down at his food. Sofia stared after Julio, biting her lip.

"I think my parents are splitting up." Rafael said, an edge to his voice. "Mom won't leave the hotel except for work and the stores, and Dad won't apologize for getting Ivaleigh arrested. He's still swearing I'm making a mistake, and that all of this is my fault. Mom says I'm only responsible for my own choices."

"Elena needs help." Sofia looked at Michael pleadingly. "You mentioned about your sister and her girlfriend ... ?"

"I'll see what they say. Genevieve's been in touch with Damien, who called me. My sister and Logan should be here no later than Friday."

"You're condoning this?!" Daniela snarled, and Sofia straightened her spine, lifting her chin. "Someone has to help her, Dani, she's still a human being! Same as Julio!"

"They're behaving like unholy freaks, and – "

"Daniela, keep your voice down!" Rafael snapped, glaring coldly towards the few students who had looked their way. Looking back at Daniela, he continued, "This shit's bad enough, you don't need to go announcing it, makin' it ten times worse."

"Are you planning on helping them?" Daniela hissed at her sister.

Sofia looked down at the table, fidgeting, and Michael spoke up. "She's in no position to, Daniela. But that doesn't mean she's required to see this matter in the way you do. Every person is entitled to their own opinion."

"Her opinion is wrong!" Daniela fought to keep from shouting, taking deep, rasping breaths.

"By whose estimation? Yours? Your parents? Society's? Do you understand that Julio isn't going to change his mind?"

Enrique stared harder at the table, his (heartbroken) mind spinning, while Daniela blinked, trying to process the meaning behind his words. Frowning sharply, defiantly, she snapped, "So you think that I should just – what?"

"Mind your business, is what you should do, Dani. And let Sofia mind hers." Rafael answered flatly. "Julio's moved out and he's getting a job, he'll take care of himself. Elena ... " He exhaled, looking at Michael. "Sofia's right, she needs help. I don't like her much for all the hypocrisy, but I don't want to see her destroy herself, either."

After school let out for the day, Paulette tried again to talk with Stephanie; all it got her was a cold shoulder and half a glance of vicious indifference.

Johnny made the attempt of yelling at her once again on the school lawn, his aggression a little more physical this time, and what that got him was Stephanie shoving him as hard as she could, nearly knocking him over before she turned to walk away; Johnny took two steps after her and Michael got in his way with a curt, "Leave her be, Johnny – "

Johnny's nostrils flared, and he snarled, "Don't you fuckin' tell me what to do, you queer-face nut-licker, this – WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU SMIRKING AT?!"

Everyone within a twenty-foot radius stopped what they were doing and stared, a baited silence falling; Paulette moved quickly closer, gripping Johnny's arm with both hands. Michael looked over at Stephanie, who now had her eyes trained on him, her expression full of cold, lingering anger; he pressed his mouth in a line, regaining control. "I'm sorry. I know that it's not funny. But his insult is certainly a new one for the books."

Stephanie almost smiled.

Her expression beseeching, Paulette let go of Johnny and moved closer to Stephanie, who stiffened before swinging and walking rigidly away towards the buses.

Please, you're my best – "Steph – "

"Paulette, just stop!" Rhonda barked from a few feet back. "You and Johnny both broke her heart! Do you get that? Just leave her be!"

Paulette winced while being scolded, then yelled back, "I wasn't trying to hurt her, I was trying to help Johnny fix things with her!"

"How many times do you lie to her, Paulette? Why the hell didn't you just tell her the truth about what was going on?" Frenchy demanded, before snapping at Johnny, "And you! You claimed to care so damn much about her, why did you lie? More than that, what haven't you lied to Stephanie about? You lied to her about Ivaleigh, you lied about your reasons for not going to Sturgis, you had Paulette lying to her about the conversations – "

"Yeah, cos she's always been so honest!" Johnny retorted, even as his conscience was yelling at him to shut up.

"Oh? And what lie did she ever tell you?" Frenchy demanded, eyebrows raised so high they vanished beneath her bangs, while Michael frowned.

Goose spoke up. "What about the time she said she got a boyfriend? Some dude with a load of tattoos and a ten-inch – "

"Oh, are you kidding me?! She spouted that cos she wanted Johnny to shut up and leave her alone!" Frenchy rounded on Johnny, while Michael pivoted and walked away. "What are you gonna do when she meets someone for real? You know Michael's right about what he said. How long d'ya think Paulette's gonna wait for you to stop bein' stupid?"

Going home from the lion's den, Johnny walked into what he was certain was a snake pit.

Bryony had found him a tutor, a take-no-prisoners college professor with a habitually stern expression and zero tolerance for Johnny's attitude; his nickname was 'The Drill Sergeant', or so Bryony explained while giving introductions. Said Drill Sergeant, whose legal name was Horatio Parsons, spent the next two hours breathing down Johnny's neck concerning every homework assignment, while Andrianna and Bryony sat back and enjoyed their drinks.

Meanwhile, Michael, arriving at home himself, wasn't even out of the cab of the truck before Paula was hurrying closer, appearing infinitely worried. Michael took one glance at her face and his thoughts began churning. "Why do you ...? What ...? Is Sandy all right?"

Paula inhaled deeply, then spoke with tight breathlessness. "Gwyneth and Stanton Miller are in the hospital. Someone broke into their hotel room yesterday evening. Ivaleigh and her sister are missing."

Michael blinked twice, staring dumbly; it was a minute before he remembered to breathe. "What?"

"Caitríona has Diamond, she was over there to talk to Lailea about adoption, Diamond's safe, the two of them are up there with Gwyneth and Stanton now, since Bastian is on his way to New York. The police have an all-points bulletin out, on the radio and the news, but they said there's nothing more they can do until Gwyneth and Stanton wake up, since no one at the hotel remembers seeing or hearing anything suspicious. One of the housekeepers found them when they saw the door open. Diamond ran right to Caitríona." Paula took a breath and shook her head, trying to calm down. "They're in a bad way. Caitríona doesn't think Ambrosia Lynn had anything to do with it – "

Michael inhaled –

"Because she's in jail and wouldn't have known where to find them in the first place. She also hasn't been able to hire a lawyer willing to represent her." A look of malicious glee flitted across Paula's worried face while saying that. "It still can't be a coincidence, though. Diamond was left behind in plain sight."

Michael was still thinking about that three hours later while sitting on the hospital room chair and putting together his notes for the Economics and AP Spanish midterms (to while away the time); a black conclusion was dancing through his mind, but it wasn't something he knew how to even begin to suggest; he had made a phone call, and now Rafael was standing completely still, silent and staring out the window, his hands in his pockets, his expression pleading, and suggesting he was there and yet not.

Caitríona, Diamond, and Paula, and Ted as well, were down in the cafeteria, and it would be nightfall before Bastian's plane landed at the LaGuardia Airport.

Gwyneth and Stanton were sleeping on the beds behind them, heavily medicated with bruised faces and broken bones.

It was another ten minutes before Rafael finally spoke (during which time the Olsens, and Caitríona and a gibbering Diamond, returned), his voice barely over a strained whisper. "Ivaleigh would have fought. She never would go quiet."

"Unless Lailea was being threatened." Michael replied carefully, looking Rafael in the eye, as Paula laid a consoling hand on his shoulder. "And vice versa."

In Caitríona's arms, Diamond was cooing happily over the picture book being shown to her. I want to adopt her, kept running through Caitríona's mind.

There was a light knock at the doorway, and there stood a police officer and an elegantly dressed older woman, white-haired and refined-looking, with deep blue eyes and a number of rings on her fingers.

"Hello. I'm Sullivan Hargrove." she announced in a restrained voice, edged with a Deep South twang, her eyes sweeping around the room, landing on the Millers and clouding over. "I was told this was the place to be. I flew in and went down to the Northridge police station to see about my Jeep, I've received quite an earful from a number of officers around here concerning Ivaleigh Storm, and her sister Lailea. I saw everything all over the news, as well, several years back." She shook her head, almost rigidly. "Is there a way in which I can help?"

"Hi, hi, hi," Diamond sing-songed brightly, her small fingers wiggling carelessly, and Sullivan smiled blandly at her.

"Not pressing charges against Ivaleigh over the Jeep would be a lovely thing." Caitríona offered, her eyes studying Sullivan intently.

"Oh, I'm not concerned about the Jeep to begin with – "

Two more police officers abruptly appeared, joining them – "Excuse us." – and Sullivan and the first officer stepped aside.

Behind them, by two miracles, were Ivaleigh and Lailea, pale, their clothes torn in some places, their mouths and noses bloodied. Ivaleigh had a nasty cut on her right cheek that looked like it was infected, and Lailea's right eye was half-shut and swollen, the skin around it a deep purple-blue; the skin around both their wrists was red, raw in some places, with blood drops appearing in others.

Sweet Jesus, what the –

Praise God – but –

Michael shot to his feet, and Rafael made a move towards Ivaleigh, his eyes wild. "Iva – what – ?!" He yanked her into a tight hug, one hand pressed to the back of her head, and she was too stiff, her shaking fingers gripping his sides only lightly.

Lailea looked towards her daughter with ferociousness, and Diamond gave her a curious look in return, while Caitríona replied tightly, "She's fine. Not a scratch on her."

Lailea breathed a rasping puff of air and nodded her relief, then walked over to Stanton's bedside, her eyes flicking back and forth between him and Gwyneth; Ivaleigh shrugged wordlessly out of Rafael's embrace, following, the two of them sparing Sullivan half a glance of mild curiosity; Sullivan stared back at each of them, waiting.

"The doctor thinks they'll be all right. They're going to be here for a bit, though." Caitríona explained, as Lailea started crying silently. "Your uncle, Leonard, has already been called, he's on his way with his family."

"Ivaleigh, what happened?" Rafael didn't raise his voice; he didn't have to.

Ivaleigh inhaled so (harshly) deeply that her whole body arched, hot tears already falling; her mouth moved soundlessly, her eyes unfocused while she stared at her grandparents.

Caitríona, having spent hours thinking things over herself, took a few careful steps closer, still cradling Diamond and murmuring, "Ivaleigh, Lailea?"

Ivaleigh seemed to hear her from a distance, and closed her eyes, shaking; Caitríona pressed her mouth in a line, then posed the question carefully. "Was it Guillermo who did this?"

Rafael's head snapped back, the air leaving him in a rush. No. "Why would you – ? No. He wouldn't do – just because he didn't like me with – " He faltered, his blood turning cold.

"He knew where they were staying, Rafael." Caitríona reminded him gently. "And we all saw his face, the that day you, Julio, and your other cousins came to the hotel."

"And who is this Guillermo?" one of the two officers questioned, pulling out a notepad and pen from his jacket pocket. "Because these two won't talk. We can't get a word out of them about whatever happened, beyond them telling us they needed to find whatever hospital a Gwyneth and Stanton Miller had been taken to."

Sullivan frowned lightly. "Isn't Guillermo the name of the man who had Miss Storm arrested for stealing my jeep?"

Ivaleigh's eyes flew open wide, and she stumbled back, looking honestly ready to be sick, white with fear. Rafael gripped her hand, and Sullivan shook her head again, saying, "Calm down, Miss Storm, it's not a matter to me, what happened with my vehicle. I have no intention of pressing charges against you. Remember, Biloxi isn't that far from New Augusta. I've been informed of everything that happened, both to you and your sister, as well as those girls. I won't pretend to have much of a use for coloreds, but I absolutely do not condone what that pair of animals did to those children. I don't care if they were black, white, or blue with silver polka dots. There's no excuse, any day, any time, any place. You were right to escape."

Ivaleigh ripped her hand from Rafael's grip and darted for the bathroom, retching up the nothing that was in her stomach.

Rafael moved to follow, and Caitríona stopped him, laying a hand on his shoulder and pulling him back an inch. "Rafael, you can't help her right now. And I say that because you don't know what this kind of violation feels like. You've never been abused."

Straightening, she looked around at everyone in the room, minus Gwyneth and Stanton, announcing, "All of you, please excuse us, I'd like to talk with Lailea and Ivaleigh in private. Michael, please take Diamond? A half an hour is all I'll need. Thank you."

Michael accepted Diamond into his folded arms, pleasantly surprised at her solid sturdiness, despite her smaller size and all the surrounding circumstances; she stared up at him, all silent curiosity.

"No fucking way in hell am I leaving Ivaleigh." Rafael swore softly, tightly, with a vengeance, moving closer towards the bathroom, where Ivaleigh was now resting her aching head on the toilet seat, spent and wilting. Lailea had gone in and was kneeling beside her, the tears still falling.

Caitríona got in his way again, facing him with a collected, "For the moment, you need to, Rafael. You're not seeing the signs. She and Lailea may have been attacked. What if they were? And what if it actually was your father? What then, for you, and your family?"

Rafael shivered, rocking back on his heels, his mind spinning.

"Rafael, come on, let's just give them a while, Caitríona will get it sorted out. She knows what to do." Paula said, gripping his shoulders and steering him gently but forcefully towards the doorway, with Ted, Michael, Diamond, and Sullivan just behind. Closing the door, they, as well as the officers, walked a little ways down the hall, to sit in the waiting room that wasn't much more than a hole in the wall and some chairs.

Once there, Diamond stood up on her tiptoes on Michael's lap and began twisting his hair into loose twirls and knots; this went on for about twenty minutes, until she fell asleep draped over his shoulder. Carefully shrugging his jacket off, he tugged her down gently until she was cheek to sternum, then put his jacket over her like a blanket.

What if this were mine and Stephanie's child?

The uninvited thought made him stiffen, made him blush, made his stomach twist, a heated, swooping rush; he pushed the thought away with desperation, but not before – as long as she has her mother's eyes –

Rafael, meanwhile, was pacing back and forth in long strides, five yards each way, a dark scowl on his face while he muttered savagely under his breath.

Sullivan Hargrove had left to return to her hotel for the night, with an assurance that she would be back at noon the following day.

Paula and Ted, along with the two remaining officers, sat, watching and waiting; after Diamond fell asleep, Ted, Paula, and Michael quietly busied themselves by going over the study notes from Michael's Spanish and Economics classes, with the two adults turning said notes into testing questions.

The half-hour mark came and went, and Rafael took to glancing repeatedly at the clock while continuing to pace.

Finally, at forty-five minutes, Ivaleigh and Lailea emerged, still shaky on their feet but looking steadier, with Caitríona right behind them. The two officers stood swiftly, while Rafael nearly bounded over to Ivaleigh, hugging her close again, rambling, "You probably hate me right now, but I don't know what I would have done if – " He bit his tongue, pulling back to stare at her, his eyes wide and wild. Michael (carrying Diamond), Paula, Ted, and the two officers, Marshall and Hartley.

They stared at each other for a long moment, before he forced the blood-chilling words out. "It. It was. Him. Wasn't it?"

He knew the answer to that even before Lailea and Ivaleigh both nodded; a piece of something in him hardened into something cold and unforgiving, while another part of him prayed to Heaven, Hell, and everything in between that she hadn't been, that neither one of them had been –

"Guillermo Jimenez did not make himself intimate with them. However – "

Ivaleigh erupted in a taut (heartbroken but defiant), vicious snarl, "That sick mother-fuck used the butt of a double barrel on our grandparents. He stuffed a dollar down my pants an' told me 'Well, get t' it, bitch, ain't this what ya do, bein' a whore?'. His plan was t' drive an' drop us off in Tucson an' leave us with nothin'. T' get me away from you. Don't know what he thought it would do, cops in every city of the States. He kept up yellin' that it was all my fault, what happened with Julio an' Elena. Said it was Lailea's blame too, cos she was defendin' me an' herself. He got as far as Ocotillo with us, we started screamin' an' carryin' on 'bout bein' kidnapped at a diner lot he pulled into cos we kept bitchin' at him 'bout havin' t' piss, we got lucky cos there was a mess of highway workmen that was there, started talkin' rough, askin' him questions 'bout our clothes, an' we ran. Got picked up a mile over by these officers here, they were kind enough t' bring us."

She stopped there – it felt like there was too much more to explain – and once again she and Rafael stared at each other, their eyes conversing intently.

"And this Guillermo Jimenez is your father?" Officer Hartley questioned Rafael.

Rafael didn't look away from Ivaleigh while answering with resolute finality. "Not anymore."