I had every intention of going to the fop that moment and telling him exactly what I thought of him. I was halfway down the hallway before I realized that taking to him would probably not help anyone, it would just make me feel better.

So I knocked on another door instead,

"Who is it?" Bernadette called from inside,

"Your father; I need to speak with you,"

She opened the door and looked worried, "Is something wrong?" she asked,

"No, no," I said, coming into her room, "I just need to talk to you about something," I went over to the large window and leaned with my back against it. Bernadette sat in a chair facing me, her hands folded in her lap, waiting for me to speak,

"I need to talk to you about why we came here," I started slowly, "I know you did not want to, and your mother thought it was a bad idea to, but I have me reasons," She just looked up at me and blinked, so I continued,

"When he was very young, Henri was kidnapped by a terrible man; he was missing for days before your mother and I found him, and when we did he was alone in a dark basement, bound and gagged to a chair,"

Her eyes widened, "that's awful," she whispered,

"Yes, it was," I sighed, "When a child experiences something like that it is very hard for them to recover," I spoke from the experience of being locked in a basement myself, "And that is why Henri is so shy,"

"I understand that Father," Bernadette said,

"Wait, there is more," I took a deep breath, "Bernadette," and I hesitated another moment before I plunged on, "before your mother came along no one would give me the time of day; because of my face," she looked sadly at me and I had to look away; I did not want to see pity for me in my own daughters eyes, "I was very lonely and very sad; if not for your mother reaching out to me I would still be living a tortured life all by my self,"

Bernadette got up from her chair and came over to be, wrapping her arms around me; I returned her embrace tightly,

"Now I am not saying I want you to fall in love with him," I said sternly, earning a slight giggle from my daughter, "I just want you to try as hard as you can to help him," I patted the back of her dark head,

"I will," she said, pulling back and smiling at me; she had her mother's smile, "I will go and see him right now if you want me to,"

I nodded, "I will walk you there; you should ask him to come down and join you in the library or something along those lines,'

Bernadette nodded and we made for the door. When we got back in the hallway she told me to stop and to wait for her as she ran back into her room. When she came out again she was holding a deck of cards.

We reached the door of Henri's room and Bernadette knocked loudly, "Henri?' she called, and there was no answer, but we did hear a rustling coming from the inside; he did not want to come to the door,

"Henri!" Bernadette called again, and again she was met with silence She sighed, "I can be stubborn to you know," she said exasperatedly, "I am going to sit right here out side the door until you come out," she smiled at me, "You can go if you want; I will be fine here,"

I smiled at her and kissed the top of her head, "Thank you," I whispered, and I turned to walk away as Bernadette sat down, back to the door, and began to play with the cards she had brought,

I was very grateful for my daughter; there was no feeling more wonderful than knowing I had helped create such a beautiful, kind creature. I thought about myself when I had been her age; alone and miserable, and I wondered what would have happened if I had had someone try to befriend me then. I might have been better, I thought, it would have been better.

Reaching our room I opened the door to find CJ sitting up in bed, looking carelessly through a book. She looked up as I entered,

"You were gone for awhile," she smiled at me and tossed her book aside, "Come over here and hold me,"

I laughed as I did what I was told and climbed onto the bed, wrapping my arms around her,

"Who did you go and talk to?" she asked me,

"Our daughter," I said

"About?"

"Henri,"

"What did you say?"

"I told her about what happened to him when he was younger, and how I would like her to try very hard to help him because I was once alone to, and if it had not been for you I still would be,"

I followed the jailors as they walked toward the cell, unseen and unheard by either of them. They were talking callously about their affairs and cared little for their task at hand. I wanted to scream out to them; I wanted to knock them to the floor because I knew what they were going to do and I ha to stop them.

It was no use however, I was a helpless spectator.

They approached the cell and I could see her inside. She lay on her back on the dirty bench, her blond hair tangled beneath her head and her eyes were blood shot. Worst of all there was an iron cuff around her neck, chaining her to the wall.

I somehow moved into the cell before the jailors reached her. I knelt down beside her,

"CJ," I whispered, and though her eyes were open they stared straight upwards and she did not turn to face me or acknowledge that I was there.

The door burst open and the jailors bound her wrists before they unchained her neck and led her away.

I followed desperately, knowing what was about to happen but powerless to stop it. She entered the candle lit room Dumas was in,

"Live or die, decide right now," He said to her, and I fell on my knees beside her,

"Please, please don't say it," I begged, but she paid no attention to me,

"Die," she said stoically, "I have nothing to live for," and I tried to shake her, to gain her attention but she still did not look at me, instead she rose from her chair,

She was in front of the guns now, glaring at them as though they could not hurt her. I stood in front of her and grabbed her shoulders,

"No," I shook her, "this is not how it happens; you live and you are happy, we fall in love and have a daughter, you have to come with me now," and I tried to move her; but she did not look at me, and she would not move. She did not even blink as the guns went off.

I hoped the bullet would hit me instead but it never did. She doubled over, red spilling from her chest s she fell limply into my arms. I tried to stop the bleeding, but I knew it was too late; the bullet had gone right though her heart…

I woke up and I knew it had all been a dream; I had had it many times before whenever I thought about how my life would have been changed if I had never met CJ. It was strange, I knew it was a dream while I was having it, but it still felt real and I still woke up shaking.

Looking over I was happy to see I had not awakened her; she worried when I had unpleasant dreams. Moving closer to her I took her in my arms and pulled her to me. She smiled pleasantly in her sleep and settled against me. I sighed; she had been my wife for sixteen years and I still had a hard time believing she was really mine.