Author's Notes: I was going to incorporate this chapter into what will be the next chapter, but I decided it deserved a chapter of its own. This chapter is pretty much Brenda exclusive. Next chapter will deal with Andrea's feelings about being back in Los Angeles.

Disclaimer: See Prologue

Chapter 4: Eyes are the Window to the Truth

Andrea and Brenda had seen each other briefly on their way to Baggage Claim. They made a tentative arrangement to meet at Andrea's parents' house the next day. Andrea was going to call Brenda later to work out the details.

Andrea's parents were meeting her and Hannah at Baggage Claim, as were Brenda's parents meeting her there. The two women separated, each going off to find their respective parents. Brenda spotted Andrea and Hannah leaving the terminal with her parents a few minutes later as she was still waiting for her bag to appear on the carousel.

A few more minutes and Brenda herself was leaving the airport with her parents. She felt strange being back in Los Angeles again. Everything seemed so familiar, and yet so different compared to what she was used to.

Eventually they made it to the house. It looked the same from the outside as it always had. Brenda found this comforting for some reason. She followed her mother inside, and saw that although it looked the same on the outside, on the inside it looked different. Different paint on the walls, different carpets, even different kitchen cabinets. It was funny, it felt like home, but not home.

"You're brother made a few changes when he had the house," her mother told her, as if she'd been reading her mind.

"I can see that," Brenda replied.

Her father came through the door at that moment, carrying her luggage.

"I'll put these up in your room," he said, and headed up the stairs.

Cindy had gone into the kitchen, and Brenda followed her.

"So, are you glad to be back in Beverly Hills?" Brenda asked Cindy.

"Well, we loved Hong Kong, but when you're father got offered a promotion that meant moving back here we jumped at the chance," Cindy replied. "Of course, now that we're here, we may as well be in Hong Kong, for all we see our children," she added, teasingly.

Brenda laughed.

"Well, you're welcome in New York anytime," she told her mother.

Now it was Cindy's turn to laugh.

"I just might take you up on that," she said.

"So, speaking of seeing your children, when does my wayward brother get here?" Brenda asked.

"He called this morning. He's flying in tomorrow. His plane arrives at about 10:30," Cindy said.

"Cindy!" Jim called.

"What is it honey?" Cindy shouted in reply.

Jim walked into the kitchen.

"Honey, where did I put those home movies?"

Brenda shot a look at her father.

"Dad, you don't have to break out the home movies. Seriously."

"Oh nonsense!" her father replied.

Brenda groaned. It was going to be a long night.

Cindy and Jim went upstairs to search for the illusive home movies. Brenda was left alone in the kitchen. She sat there by herself for a minute longer, and then, thinking about old movies of herself and Brandon as kids, an idea occurred to her.

She got up and crossed through the hall, into the living room. She looked around. Where did her mother used to keep the photo albums?

She remembered that her mother had previously kept some albums in the bottom drawer of the desk near the doorway. She walked over to the desk, opened the drawer and, after moving some papers aside, found what she was looking for.

A minute later she was sitting on the couch, a photo album on her lap. She turned the pages until she found what she was looking for. Smiling up at her was a photo of Brandon on their 9th birthday.

She carefully removed the photo from the album and looked at it. She tried to picture Hannah in her head. She remembered Hannah's eyes, and looked closely at the 9 year old Brandon's eyes. Where they the same? She thought they looked similar, but she'd have to take another look at Hannah to be sure.

She closed over the photo album and returned it to the drawer. Then, the photo in her hand, she went back to the kitchen. She took her purse, which she'd left on the counter, and took out her diary. She put the photo between two of the diary pages and then put it back in her purse, just as her parents re-entered the kitchen, her father triumphantly holding up a video tape.

Brenda reluctantly followed her parents to the living room. As her father set up the VCR, she thought about the photo in her purse. "They say eyes are the window to the soul," she thought, "Maybe in this case they'll be the window to the truth."