'I just found out Cindy doesn't know who she is. We're a lot alike, but I have one thing she doesn't. Memories. I remember, and I feel pain for what I lost. At least she doesn't feel the hollow ache every minute of every day. Sometimes I have this crazy urge to hunt down Eric Weiss and find out every detail I can, to see if it will make some of the pain go away. Then I remember, it's too late, and I won't know. So I live with the pain'

Kate's mood lasted for three days. She barely spoke around John and Cindy; the only time she was truly at peace was when she helped Wesley in the basement.

The days were slow and boring, and Kate spent most of her time reading and writing letters to her friends in Texas. In the days before Christmas packages began arriving from her friends, the one from Chris extremely rattly and large. It was the only one she opened right away, and refused to let anyone see what it was.

The ache she felt inside was a familiar pain now, only alleviating during her second session with Olivia. Once on the ice, her spirit soared and the ache moved to her feet, which soon blistered from the skates. She found that some of her abilities had diminished in the month she hadn't practiced, but Olivia was confident she would regain them. Cindy realized how the practice became a sort of therapy, because Kate was much happier and lost any moodiness after being on the ice.

She and Wesley watched Kate practice, both in awe at her skill. Glancing at the zamboni made her heart lurch so she avoided it, throwing all her concentration on Kate's spinning figure.

Christmas came much faster than Kate anticipated, and she was a little worried. She had been told that presents were not something she should even consider giving, and it was something to forget. Although she had a plan, Kate wanted to do more. Helping Wesley was fun, calming even, but not enough.

On Christmas Eve, after eating an extremely good dinner, Kate grabbed the lumpy sack Chris sent her, and descended to the kitchen. Inside the sack were caro syrup, piecrust, and a very large bag of pecans. Filching butter from the refrigerator Kate made a classic Texas recipe, pecan pie. She offered pecans to Cindy while munching on some herself.

Soon the aroma drifted throughout the house, giving Kate a forceful reminder of her home. Before Kate learned to cook her dad would buy store bought pecan pies, and she turned her nose down as them after having tasted her friend Molly's mom's homemade pies. Cooking became something she enjoyed doing with her dad, especially once she realized Michael couldn't bake for anything.

The whole Cross family loved the pies, making Kate promise to cook more often. Their Christmas was a simple affair, a few gifts to Wesley (a baseball mitt and hat), Kate received a beautifully decorated bookmark from Wesley and the promise of seeing Olivia once a week from John and Cindy. John and Cindy's gifts were simple things they both liked, although Cindy was overjoyed at the photo album depicting the only life she knew.

After a lunch prepared by Cindy and Kate, they rested in the family room, too full to speak much. It was domestic moment, and Kate felt peaceful. Even though most of the dinner she was reminded of her past life in sharp jolts, she managed to keep a happy face.

Leftovers served as dinner, and after it, Cindy found Kate crying in her room. "Kate?"

She looked up; face stained with ears, and tried to smile. "I really miss my dad," she sniffed, wiping her eyes.

Cindy sat on the floor next to her, staring straight ahead. "What would you be doing today?"

Kate looked at her fingers thoughtfully. "Well, he would wake me up, and we'd open our presents. He always had something from a woman at work chasing after him, and there were things from my friends. After messing with our stuff we'd make lunch while listening to every Frank Sinatra song known to man. We owned everything of his. I was always in charge of dessert, because Dad screwed up sweet stuff. He was a firm believer in salt." She smiled in memory. "One year Dad decided to teach me every waltz he knew. We even got as far as the tango. It became a tradition, us dancing after we ate. We'd be interrupted by our neighbors coming over for hot chocolate and popcorn, and the inevitable, karaoke. Of course, the adults always drank wine at dinner, and then put peppermint schnapps in their hot chocolate, so there was always at least one drunk karaoke number. We always taped those." Her eyes clouded over as she remembered giving the tapes to her neighbors.

"One year it iced over so bad the power went out, so we found every blanket in the hours and everyone curled up in the living room. That was my favorite Christmas, falling asleep between my friends and my dad."

Cindy had tears in her eyes as she realized just how much Kate was missing. Her life sounded wonderful, so loving.

Kate spoke again, her voice trembling. "The only thing missing was Mom. Dad and I always danced to their song, and he'd always cry. He never said it, but I think dancing with me felt like dancing with her. He missed her so much, but he didn't have tons of pictures.

"He said I looked almost exactly like her, so I guess he didn't really need them. He gave me one, last Christmas, because I always snuck into his dresser drawers to look at it. It's not very clear, but it's enough so that I know what he meant."

"Can I see?" Cindy asked quietly, hand grasping Kate's in support. It surprised her when she pulled it from the waistband of her jeans, but she took it from Kate's trembling fingers.

She had to stand up and look in the light to see it clearly, and it was as if someone threw a curtain over her senses. Darkness.

Kate shrieked in surprise as Cindy crumpled to the floor, still clutching the worn picture in her hand. The noise brought John and Wesley running, and they both rushed to where Cindy lay.

"What happened?" John managed to gasp, once he felt Cindy's wild pulse. Lifting her gently, he placed her on the bed as carefully as he could. Her eyes were moving erratically beneath the lids, scaring Wesley behind her father.

"I-I don't know. She just fell!"

Turning to face Kate, John's expression was half disbelief and shock. "What were you doing?" he asked through clenched teeth.

Kate's eyes flashed at the unspoken implication and she pulled the photo from Cindy's clutches. "I showed her a picture of my family."

John's heart sank as he saw the familiar profile of his wife in the picture. No, he thought, Cindy can't be her mother. They would have been there when she lost her memory.

Cindy's cries of, "No!" brought him back to reality, and he knelt by her shaking form. "Are you remembering?" he whispered to himself, dreading the answer. He was terrified of her past; worried if she remembered someone else she would leave him.

Wesley retreated to a far corner, unsure of what was happening. He had never seen his mother like this.

Cindy's world was only dark for a few moments before scenes started playing. She became a child again, growing rapidly and seeing her world flash by. She was happy with her family, and then unbelievably sad when her mother died, unsure of her father's behavior. It all went by with a surprising speed, until a single memory caused the world to stand still. The anger and sadness and pure agony inside her were unbearable as she wailed over her fiancé's dead body. Her heart broke as she saw the blood staining the white tile and porcelain. It lasted an eternity before she flashed to another man's body, this one covered in black, an ice pick protruding from his ribs.

Once again, she felt the pain and suffering of loss as she uncovered his face. She was Sydney Bristow in these moments, and she knew nothing else.

Again, another flash, as she watched someone else die. This time she wasn't allowed to touch him; she could only stare helplessly as the water crushed him into the glass.

A flood of relief when she realized he was alive, a stab of jealously when she found out he was seeing someone.

Emotions bombarded her left and right as she continued traveling down the path her life had created, until once again the world stood still. This time, however, no one was dying.

Every nerve in her body tingled as his lips assaulted hers, and she drew him in closer. Their bulky clothing drove her crazy, she itched to remove them, and replace the cloth with kisses and caresses.

It would be another memory before that happened, and a happiness she had never before felt flooded her senses and left her dazed. Blissful memories intermingled with shockingly horrible ones, until even those faded.

White surrounded her and in the distance she heard, "I do." And the happiness she felt before was magnified by ten. A positive pregnancy test, a painted nursery, a crying baby. Emily Brigitte. The world was perfect.

Until she was knocked out and her memory modified. "Anna will be pleased," and, "Only when you see your complete family will you remember". A burning hatred as she forgot it all, and moved on blindly, putting her faith in someone who claimed to be her aunt. Meeting John Cross, marrying him, having Wesley.

Now.

Well over an hour after Cindy Cross fainted, her eyes snapped open, much to everyone's relief. The first person that came into focus made her gasp, and she stared hard to be sure.

"Emily?"