She lifted her finger to the intercom, and then pulled it away again. Should she? Less than a week ago she had promised herself that she would never come back here, yet here she was, ready to return.

Damn him.

Damn her father for everything. Her failed romance; her penniless existence; and, most of all, her broken heart. She felt like she was bleeding to death inside, and he would never notice. She had felt that way since Chris had died.

All he cared about was his reputation. There was no room for her. But she needed to know.

She pressed the buzzer.

"Mackenzie residence. May I ask who is there?" came the stale voice of the old butler.

"It's Anna. Can I come in?"

"Miss Anna? Terribly sorry, but your father has requested for you to be made persona non grata on this premises. Have a good day."

"Wait! Wait!"

"Yes, Miss Anna?"

"Please let me in…I need to talk to him…"

"Miss Anna, I don't think you quite comprehend how angry your father is at the minute with you. I think it would be better if you returned in a couple of days."

"A couple of days? Are you kidding me? For god sakes, you stupid old fart, let me in!" She screamed into the intercom. That felt good. Maybe she should try that more often.

"Miss Anna, I-"

"Annie?" a timid voice pushed him away.

"Rachel?"

"Anna! You're back!" the ten year old shrieked.

"Sweetie, could you tell daddy to let me in?" she asked.

"Of course Annie. Jo-Jo's been so nasty to me lately. Are you going to stay?"

"Rach, could you just get Dad?" She was losing her patience again.

"Just a minute, Annie…" she stood back and waited. Then, the gates swung open seamlessly, and she began to make her way up the drive towards the manor.

She knocked on the door and waited. Mary, the bitterest, coldest woman Anna had ever had the pleasure of knowing, opened the door.

"This way." She snapped. Mary was the housekeeper. She seemed to have gotten colder, if it were at all possible.

Anna followed her down the richly carpeted hallways, past portraits of various Mackenzies, into her father's study. He was sat by the fire, the perfect picture of nobility, smoking a pipe with the family dog lying faithfully at his feet. Bastard.

"Thank you, Mary. You may go now." Mary curtseyed and stalked off. Anna sat down in the chair opposite them.

How could she have been so blind? Why, in all her fifteen years, did she never see the poverty until she started living with Aimee? This house seemed like a hell to her now. Everyone in here was so selfish; how could they think it was right to live like this when there were people starving to death in the slums everyday?

"I see you have stopped this foolishness." He said.

"I…I'm not staying for long. I want to ask you something."

"Anna, don't be stupid. Just come home. You are always welcome here."

"And what about Julia?"

"I believe Chris has family too."

"You're unbelievable. All I want is to ask a question. With that attitude, I don't think that you'll be seeing me much anymore."

"Just ask the question then, Anna."

"Did you have anything to do with his death?"

"Anna…"

"Be honest. I need to know."

"Everybody knew that he was a criminal, Anna! Worse than that, he was rebelling against the Galbadians!"

"That's because it's our country! He was just standing up for what he believed in!"

"I see he's filled your head with this mindless claptrap too."

"That's not the point. Give me a straight answer."

"I knew you were going to meet him that day. All I did was tell someone I knew who happened to be a Galbadian soldier. I never thought they'd kill him, Anna. Just give him a warning."

"You…you selfish, son of a bitch! Why? Could you not stand the thought of us being happy together? I-I didn't want to think it was true, but…I hate you. I never, ever want to speak to you again. I hate you! You hear me? I fucking hate you!" she slapped him, leaving a stark red mark stamped across his cheek.

He didn't even flinch.

"Anna. Look what you have turned into; a raving lunatic using filthy language. I'm deeply ashamed of you, Anna." She screamed in anger and frustration, and then stormed out of her old home.     

When she returned to her new home, the anger subsided and gave way to despair. She felt like she had been sucked into a black hole and could never get out again. She wanted to cry until she couldn't cry anymore, let her tears wash away all the pain and anger, until there was nothing left but a raw shell.

But she couldn't.

She tried, really, she did. She was almost forcing the tears to come, but she felt stifled. She felt alone. She needed somebody to help her, somebody to love her. She needed Chris.

"I'm sorry…I'm so sorry…it's my fault you died…all my fault. You should be here now, instead of me…no, we should be together. God, I messed it all up for us…" the tears finally began to fall. She almost felt a hand on her shoulder, but no. It was only her imagination.

"Don't leave me alone, Chris…don't go…please…" she curled up in a ball, like a little girl, desperate for any kind of comfort. At only fifteen, she felt like she had lived forever.

"I'm home!" Aimee called from the front door, "Anna?" she said, as she saw the young girl curled up in a ball, shaking with tears.

"Anna? What's wrong?" She put Julia's pram in the corner, and then hurried over to where Anna lay.

"Did you not get a job?" she asked kindly, "I did tell you, you know…"

"N…no…it's not that…I got an interview…but…but…"

"What is it?"

"I…I can't do this alone…" she sobbed, clinging onto Aimee as if her life depended on it.

"You have me. I mean, I know we have our differences, but I'll always help you look after Julia…"

"Aimee…" she started. But she stopped herself. Maybe it was better that Aimee never knew about her father, and the horrible, horrible thing he had done.

"It's okay…it'll be okay…" Aimee soothed her. Anna couldn't believe the change that she had just witnessed in Aimee. Perhaps she wasn't so bad after all…

When Anna had told Aimee that she played the piano before, she had no intention of telling her how good she was. The truth was, she was excellent. She would play all the time at home, until her parents got sick of it and told her to go and do something else. She never played in public though; it was her instinct to downplay the whole thing. 

Right now, she really wanted to play.

She loved the way she could just glide up and down the piano, playing a smooth melody, and the way the music poured from her fingers. If she closed her eyes and breathed in the music, she could imagine she was flying.

Playing the piano was just one of those things that all well-brought-up children of Timber were expected to do. But very few could do it as well as Anna. Her teacher had told her that she might be able to be a professional one day if she kept it up.

That was not what her father wanted to hear.

"Of course she's wonderful…but I think she'll find her place with a good man, rather than with a bunch of scruffy musicians…no offence…"

In her father's opinion, all musicians were alcoholics with nothing better to do than to sit around all day getting blind drunk and starting fights. Anna, of course, would be much better off if she could just find a good husband.

That was all her father ever thought about; living with him was like living in the Stone Age; all women were good for was having sons.

Maybe that was why her own mother had been so disappointing; she had died giving birth to a son. The baby himself barely survived three days. Anna was seven when her mother died. She hardly thought of her anymore.

So he was a single man, landed with three daughters, two of whom were too rebellious to match up respectably, and one of whom was still only a child. He must be disappointed.

She couldn't believe she had lasted fifteen years in that house without realising what a sham her whole life had been. She had been living in a cage without even realising it. And while she was pregnant with Julia, it was like being in a room crowded with people, and not one of them could hear her screaming.

She felt so isolated.

All she wanted was a place to call home; really call home, and somebody who would love her unconditionally. Maybe, she would, one day. Maybe if she got this job, she and Julia could get their own place, just the two of them.

She had to get this job. She needed to get it for Julia; she wanted to be there for her baby girl, and she would. And even if she didn't get this job, she would get one. Suddenly, the future didn't seem all that threatening. This was just a new beginning for her, and she could make it. She wasn't going to let herself be stifled anymore. For Julia.