For disclaimers, author's notes, etc., please see chapter 1.

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A jittery figure hovered at the edge of the kitchen, gazing at her with worry and a blatant curiosity. Chloe kept her eyes fixed firmly on the sandwich in front of her.

Her mother cleared her throat. "So, sweetie, you had your first session with Dr. Greene today."

"Mmm-hmm, I guess."

Another not-so-discreet cough from the edge of the kitchen. Chloe finished cutting the sandwich and turned back toward the refrigerator.

"Chlo...you know, you don't have to tell me anything about what you and Dr. Greene discuss, but if there's anything that you do want to talk about -- the sessions, or anything else that's gone on -- I'm here for you."

The four words sounded awkward and forced compared to the way Jay had uttered them, but they were full of sincerity. Chloe finally met her mother's eyes and flushed with guilt at the love and concern she saw there. If Jay were right and feelings couldn't hurt you, why did she feel like crap right now? Images rushed back in from the edge of her memory, snippets of all the horrors of last week. She remembered the phone call, the tightness in Angel's face when she gave her the news, the way Bailey hadn't quite been able to look at her when he told her of course, sweetie, everything was going to be all right, they'd see to it that her mom came home....And she'd wanted to believe it, even though she was already wondering what it would be like to not really belong to anyone anymore. Maybe it really was time to talk about all those feelings. She took a deep breath.

"Well, I -- "

Her mother's pager went off. Chloe's expression closed in on itself.

"They want you." She sighed and turned away again.

"Then they'll just have to wait, won't they? You come first." Her mother reached out to place a reassuring hand on her shoulder. As if on cue, the phone began to ring.

Chloe smiled bitterly. "It's OK, Mom. They must really need you." Breaking free of her mother's grasp, she headed upstairs toward her bedroom. She paused at the top of the stairwell, holding her breath and hoping for the following footsteps to prove that just once, just maybe she did come first.

Instead she caught half a conversation. "Hey, Bailey...oh, I've been better. Yeah, Angel's here, I can meet you at the office in fifteen minutes. Let me pull that file and check, OK?"

Chloe quietly closed the door of her room and sat on the bed in the dark. She didn't feel like eating anymore, she didn't care about her homework, and there was no real reason to illuminate anything in her life right now anyway. She hoped Angel wouldn't be up here trying to get her to express her feelings like she'd been doing all last week. She loved Angel and she sort of liked having the old living situation back until the case was solved, but right now she didn't feel like talking to anyone.

Downstairs the soft thud of the front door announced that her mother was heading off to work again, accompanied by one of the two agents that had been guarding the house since the kidnapping. No doubt she spent more time talking to them every day than to her own daughter. Well, hell, she probably spent more time talking to Jack, when it came right down to it....

The tight little ball of guilt and anger danced in her stomach again. As her eyes adjusted to the dark she noticed the worn blonde head of her old baby doll shining dimly from the top of the dresser. Baby Waters had been relocated from her previous spot of honor on the bed ever since Chloe had turned eleven; somehow it hadn't seemed very mature at the time to be sleeping next to an old doll. But tonight she needed a friend and she didn't think maturity was all it was cracked up to be anyway.

Her father had given her Baby Waters on her first birthday. She really didn't remember it, but she'd seen photographs from the party they'd thrown for her. Her father was laughing, holding her in the crook of one arm and the doll in the other - at that time they'd been about the same size. Her grandparents had given her a handsome wooden picture frame for Christmas a couple years ago and she'd wanted to put that photo in it, stand it up beside Baby Waters and have another little piece of her father to keep with her. But tears had crept into the corners of her mother's eyes as soon as she'd mentioned it, and Chloe had told her never mind, her fourth grade class photo would actually look much better in the frame. And neither one of them ever mentioned it again.

She hugged Baby Waters tightly against her chest and crept under the covers. Eyes closed, she tried to summon up all the old feelings of love and security and optimism that she'd associated with her father's present for the last ten years. But it was just a plastic doll after all, and she just felt empty, as though even her comfortable old memories had abandoned her along with everyone else.

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