Eva hasn't stepped foot inside the Institute for two weeks; she refused to. Instead, she stayed with Raphael in his suite at the Dumort. The first few days since Hodge's betrayal, she cried herself to sleep. Raphael would try his best to soothe her, but she was inconsolable. He merely let her be, keeping her at arm's distance but giving her space. He'd bring her food and horchata, but she'd eat minimally and lost a bit of weight as a result. Raphael thought that the news of Jace being saved from Valentine's clutches and Alec being healed by Magnus would perk her up, but it didn't do much during that first week.

"Thanks." Raphael took the canvas bag from Isabelle containing some of Eva's clothing and bottles of her hair products. Isabelle was careful to pick out the ones Eva had bought at stores rather than the ones Hodge would make for her.

"It's hitting her hard; she thought of Hodge like a dad," Izzy said, touching her parabatai rune on her bicep subconsciously. "We all were close to him, but Hodge always had a soft spot for her."

"To think I should've punched him this whole time." Raphael let his shoulders slump. "At least she's eating regularly."

"She's feeling better now—I know she is," Izzy reassured him. She's been coming to the Dumort every few days to bring Raphael clothes for Eva and to see her. While Eva wasn't crying anymore, the spark that usually made her golden eyes gleam was extinguished. It hurt Raphael to see her like this, and he couldn't imagine how Isabelle must feel. "She just needs time. Eva's much more emotional than I am so it takes her a while to get back to normal. I'm glad you're taking care of her."

Raphael watched her disappear down the street before he walked back inside the Dumort. He swiftly climbed the stairs of the old hotel, passing some vampires that quickly stepped out of his way. Eva's state was making Raphael incredibly irritable, and thankfully, his clan was on their best behavior. They didn't want him to take his anger out on them.

He walked into his suite on one of the upper floors of the hotel, previously called the royal suite back in the 1920's when it was still used by mundanes. Despite the ground floors and the outside of the Dumort looking dilapidated, the rooms and suites were in perfect condition with modern furniture and running water. The only thing they didn't have was centralized AC or heaters; vampires had no use for it.

Eva was lying on her side on his large bed, hugging one of his pillows, and facing the television propped up inside a wooden TV cabinet. As usual, the signal was terrible and the image on the screen was grainy at best and buzzed with static every now and again. Raphael recognized it as reruns of the sitcom Cheers.

"Vamos." Raphael clapped his hands to get her attention. He reached for the remote and turned off the TV, making Eva groan playfully. Raphael tugged the covers off her, revealing her in a pair of panties and one of his button-down shirts. "Al baño. Ahora."

Eva usually puts off washing her hair too often because her curls would dry out if she did. She'd put it off for too long now; her curls were frizzy and undefined and tangled. Eva had it twisted up into a bun to keep it all in one place.

She followed Raphael into his pristine bathroom and he ran the bath for her, making sure the water was to her liking. She then stepped in, a sigh leaving her lips at the feel of the water seeping into her bones and relaxing her. Raphael took a seat on a stool he dragged over, rolled up his sleeves, and began running jets of water from the showerhead on her thick tresses. After properly soaking her hair, he began working up a lather with the shampoo Izzy brought for him and began massaging her scalp gently.

"Izzy was thoughtful," Eva said. Her eyes were closed and a small smile paraded her lips. "She didn't bring anything Hodge made me."

Raphael squirted another glob of the coconut-scented shampoo onto his palm. "She's worried for you."

"I know she is," she said, reaching up to tap her fingers against her parabatai rune under her right collarbone. "I'm feeling a lot better, though. Did you tell her that?"

"She knows." Raphael took the showerhead and rinsed the suds off her hair. He now reached for the conditioner and began to work it into her hair. Her thick curls immediately began to spring into their natural Botticelli spirals; each strand felt like silk between his slender fingers. "She understands the way you handle things."

"Izzy has the amazing ability to bottle things up; I've always been jealous of that," Eva sighed as he detangled her hair with his fingers. "I hate that I spiral downwards into a pit."

"But you climb out of it and get stronger," Raphael said. "When you bottle things up, it starts to eat away at you until there's nothing left, or until you explode. It happened to me when I first Turned, and I didn't have peace of mind until I finally accepted it."

Eva hummed, tilting her head back as he rinsed her hair of the conditioner. "I think I'm ready to go back to the Institute; it'll hurt, but I have to be strong."

Raphael combed her hair with his fingers as water ran through them, making sure he didn't miss any tangles. Feeling nothing but silky curls, he asked lightly, "Now, do you want me to bathe you too, or can the big baby do it herself?"

"You should join me," she laughed. "When's the last time you had a bath? Thirty years?"

"I bathe every few days." Dirt and grime never really was an issue for vampires, and neither was body odor and greasy hair. Raphael bathed simply because of his own fastidious nature. "I don't have to, but I do."

"Yes, and then drown yourself in Bleu de Chanel."

"It's my signature," he smirked. "When you smell that cologne, you know it's me, the same way smelling coconuts and gardenias reminds me of you."

Eva leaned over the edge of the porcelain bathtub and brought him in for a soft kiss. Raphael immediately melted into it; he hasn't kissed her in so long. Eva pulled away from him, her words breathless against his lips, "Thank you, Rapha. For everything."

"I'd bring down Heaven for you, mi angelito," he kissed her again.


Eva felt strange as she walked down the Institute's courtyard. The sun had set over Manhattan and the streetlights illuminated its enormous pillars and cast shadows over each intricate gothic design. The gardens were blooming bright green and summer flowers dotted bushes and grass. Eva couldn't help but think of Hodge.

"Cambia esa cara," Raphael squeezed her hand playfully. Eva smiled; it was eerie how in tune he was with her.

The doors of the Institute opened just as they approached the front porch revealing Izzy dressed in a tank top and jeans with heeled boots. Her ink black hair was loose over her shoulders and when she brought Eva in for a tight hug, her familiar scent of vanilla overwhelmed Eva in the best of ways. She was home.

"I told you she was better," Izzy said to Raphael who stood there watching them with his hands in his pockets. "You want to come inside?"

"No, I've had enough of Eva," Raphael smirked, making his girlfriend giggle. "You can have her."

"I love you too, Rapha." Eva wrapped her arms around his neck and planted a kiss on his lips. He let out a scoff in response, nodded a curt farewell at Izzy, and walked down the courtyard before flying away on his motorcycle.

"He acts all tough but he worships the ground you walk on," Izzy rolled her eyes. "Men turn into such saps when they're in love, it's pathetic."

"I think it's cute," Eva said, following her into the elevator. "One day you'll find a guy that'll worship you, and when that happens, you won't think it's so pathetic."

"Yeah, right," she tossed her hair back with a pinched frown. "That'll be the day I stop wearing heels and eyeliner."

Just like old times, the parabatai pair threw themselves on Izzy's bed and talked. Usually, they talked about girl things like fashion or boys and sometimes they talked about personal things like they did tonight. The word about Hodge's betrayal spread quickly, and even though Jace purposefully kept that detail out when he returned from Renwick's with Clary and Luke's werewolf pack, Eva's sudden disappearance made Izzy frantic for the truth. Thankfully, the first person she called was Raphael and he explained everything—about Hodge, about what happened in the alleyway, about Eva crying her eyes out and not wanting to be within spitting distance of the Institute.

"The Clave ransacked Hodge's room and took everything," Izzy said, tilting her head back as Eva brushed out the knots in her hair with a comb. "Mom says they're trying to track him down."

"What do you think they'll do if they find him?"

"Arrest him, probably," Izzy shrugged her shoulders. "I honestly don't know."

Eva began sectioning large chunks of hair. "Valentine lifted his curse in exchange for the Mortal Cup and then he wanted to go into hiding with me—he said he did it for me."

"He could've lied."

"He didn't get Alec or you to come with him, and he left Clary in the library and let Valentine take Jace," Eva recalled. She was trying not to lose her concentration as she threaded a fishtail braid out of Izzy's straight locks. "Why would he do that?"

"I guess if they capture him, they'll question him with the Mortal Sword," Izzy said. Eva knew she was compartmentalizing her emotions, tossing aside the ones she didn't need and replacing them with aloofness. Izzy was just as heartbroken Hodge betrayed them to Valentine and then ran away, and was equally confused about Hodge specifically wanting Eva to go into hiding with him, but didn't show it in the slightest.

Perhaps it was easier just to push aside all the unanswered questions, Eva thought. It was easier to keep your sanity that way.

The strangest thing Eva missed while she was hiding away in the Dumort was finding out Clary and Jace were siblings—the children of Valentine and Jocelyn Morgentern. Eva felt bad for the girl; her unrealistic mundane world came crashing down on her all at once with more and more secrets her mother kept from her coming to light: being Valentine's daughter, being a Shadowhunter, having a brother, having a warlock to erase her memories, finding out the man that raised her, Luke Garroway—Lucian Graymark—was a former Shadowhunter but was now a werewolf.

And yet, Clary Fray was pushing forward despite the whirlwind of emotions raging war inside her. Like Izzy, Clary was doing a good job of bottling it all up and instead of sulking around, she was trying to get answers to her endless questions. Eva respected her immensely for it and approached her one day when she visited the Institute.

"How're you doing? How's your mom?"

"I'm doing alright; just getting used to it all." Clary brushed her bright red hair out of her face. "My mom's still in the hospital and she hasn't woken up—it's like a coma."

"I have this weird ability to sense people's emotions," Eva began, almost embarrassed to admit such a thing. It certainly wasn't normal. "When I touch them, I can get a bit of a glimpse into their thoughts. I did it with Alec when he was unconscious after Abbadon poisoned him, so I thought I could help and see if I can get you some answers."

The appreciation that burst from Clary like a blossoming flower made Eva smile sadly. How wonderful must it be to have a mother to love so much. Eva would never know such a feeling.

Clary and Eva took the subway to Beth Israel Hospital where Jocelyn was. Eva has seen mundane hospitals depicted in A corazón abierto, one of Raphael's sappy telenovelas, but she'd never actually been inside one herself. It was very cold and the white-washed hallways seemed endless and packed with patients, family members, nurses, and doctors.

Jocelyn's room was spacious and lit with natural light from the open window. Despite the brightness, Luke was in a deep sleep and curled up rather uncomfortably in an armchair in the corner of the room. It shocked Eva to find out that the werewolf in the alley that fought Hodge was him, but despite having wounded Hodge in their scuffle, Clary told her Luke didn't find him in the alley when he returned.

"He's knocked out," Clary said with a smile.

Eva took a seat on the edge of Jocelyn's bed. She looked almost like a wax figure; she was motionless apart from the slow rise and fall of her chest and the occasional flicker of her eyes underneath her pale lids. Her bright red hair was scattered over the pillow, creating a furious halo against the white sheets. Clary looked exactly like Jocelyn, from her hair to her jawline to her flawless skin and her small frame. Eva wondered briefly if she looked like her own mother, or if she looked more like her father, whoever they were. She tried not to think about it.

Eva took Jocelyn's cold hand in her own and closed her eyes. Like she did with Alec and Brother Zachariah, she focused on her touch, trying to reach deep into her soul and into the emotions that swirled around like the threads of steam in a hot mug of tea.

Clary is fine, Eva tried to convey the message as best she could, hoping it would induce some sort of reaction. She's here with Luke, and they never leave your side.

To her surprise, Jocelyn's response fed through their touch: acknowledgement and relief. Eva smiled to herself. You're aware of your surroundings? You can hear when Luke and Clary talk to you?

Acknowledgement.

Eva doesn't really know how she's deciphering these emotions into language. Then again, the Silent Brothers communicate with thoughts. Eva pressed on. Can you wake up?

The burst of emotions was hard to understand, but Eva boiled it down to a cross between frustration and uselessness. It was obvious Jocelyn didn't like to be a sitting duck. Eva couldn't help but point out, Your daughter is exactly like you, Jocelyn Fray.

If Jocelyn were awake, she would've laughed but since she couldn't, their empathic link made Eva laugh in her stead. The room was quiet until she did so and it made Clary jump in surprise. Luke only shifted in the armchair and continued to snooze.

"That was your mother laughing, believe or not," Eva said.

"You're talking to her?" Clary's jaw dropped. "What's she saying? How can we wake her up?"

"It's hard to understand—I'm still learning how to do this." Eva placed Jocelyn's hand down at her side gently. "But she's fully aware of what's going on around her. She can hear you and Luke and she's listening to us right now."

"So she's okay?" Clary asked. "She's all there?"

"It would seem so," Eva smiled. "She's so grateful you're safe, Clary. That's all she worries about."

"Oh, I know," Clary said bitterly, the resentment pulsing from her suffocating Eva despite being quite a distance from her. "I'd say she worries too much."

"Don't take it for granted," Eva said. "I never knew my parents—I don't know if they're dead, or if they abandoned me, but I would give anything to have a mother or a father to fuss over me."

After Clary thanked her for her help, Eva walked out of the room and close the door just a bit to block out the ruckus from the hallway. She took a left turn and began heading towards the elevator lobby, stopping occasionally to let nurses wheel patients around in wheelchairs or gurneys. Eva wasn't paying much attention to the sea of mundane faces around her until a nurse abruptly stopped and made Eva bump into her side.

"Marigold?"

The nurse was dressed in medical scrubs with bright red fire trucks printed on them. Her skin was a tone or two darker than Eva's, her eyes were wide in shock and a deep blue, and her hair was black and pulled up into a ponytail. To Eva's shock, she didn't have the chance to take a good look at her; the woman was halfway down the hallway in the amount of time it took her to bat an eye. Before the nurse could disappear into the crowd of doctors and patients, Eva noticed the shimmer of a very strong glamour around her.

Shrugging, Eva continued on her way to the elevators.