While Satine laboriously lifted herself off the bed and onto the ground, and Christian bustled around the kitchen packing away all the small, carriable appliances (like the coffee maker), there was another knock at the door. It wasn't as urgent as before, but still, they had to be careful. "Who is it?" Christian called.

"Ariana," a voice cooed back. Satine's face lit up and she opened the door immediately, letting in her sister. The two of them exchanged a hug and sat down on the bed, next to the suitcases.

"My sister," Ariana croaked. A tear made its slow path down her left cheek. "My sister is alive."

Satine laughed. "Why've you come, Ariana? How did you know where to find us?"

Ariana smiled then. "I saw Christian walking with you after you fainted, so I got in the driver's seat of his car and followed you in it. I figured I'd leave you a few minutes to get reacquainted; that's why I'm late. I've come to say hello, of course!"

Christian leaned back so they could just see his head through the kitchen doorway. "We're leaving for England today, Ariana. We'll have to bid you goodbye here, or maybe at the airport, if you'd like to come."

Ariana's face fell. "I won't accompany you there; I'll just say my farewells before I leave. But there is something else I've got to tell the both of you."

Satine picked up her teacup from before and emptied the last drops into her mouth. "Yes, and what's that?"

"It is," Ariana said, voice cracking slightly, "that I have a son I've got to get home to."

Satine grinned more widely than could be expected of anyone. "I am an aunt! I do wish our mother had kept us together when we were born; I'd be able to appreciate him earlier! How old is he, and what's the little chap's name?"

"He is seven years old. His name is Pierre."

"Seven years old!" Christian exclaimed. "You must have had him when you weren't much more than a girl!"

Ariana looked solemn and lowered her eyes. "I was eighteen then. His father is the man who taught me to play piano for five years. We were sitting at the bench, and he told me I had a lovely face... and then..." Satine wrapped her arms around her sister, shushing Ariana like a mother would do.

Christian glanced at his watch. "Eureka Mae!" he cried, and Satine giggled at his phrase of surprise. "It's already three. We'll have to hurry if we expect to make the three-thirty plane to England!" He grabbed up the suitcases in one hand, and then, jokingly, Satine in the other. "Ariana, we will look you up as soon as we get there, and write you two letters a month, if you'll write us back. And we expect to have full updates on Pierre's status in every exchange!"

Ariana laughed and sobbed at the same time, taking Christian and Satine into a group hug. "I'll miss you both terribly," she told them, and then they were off, just making it onto the plane in time.

"We're going to England," Satine sighed, stroking Christian's hand when they were buckled into their seats and starting to take off.

Christian gripped her pale hand firmly but softly. "We're going to a safe place. Home."