Elena woke up feeling refreshed. Once she had talked with Vincent, it seemed to enable her to sleep deeply, without any more nightmares. She dressed, fixed her breakfast and planned her day. She wanted to know more about the Stewarts, whom she had no doubt were her parents.

And Vincent's, of course, she thought, smiling. But I find it fascinating that our mother was an authoress. I think my first visit will be to the library. After all these years, they probably aren't selling her books any longer.And I suspect I'll have to do some digging to find anyone still around who knew them.

Her thoughts were interrupted by a call from Doris. She wasn't quite ready to tell her about her discovery, so she just said she was trying to get acquainted with the city. Doris recommended some stores and restaurants in her area, and Elena commented that her friend must have spent some time exploring the area when she found the apartment.

Doris laughed. "Well, I did drive around the area a couple of times, checking things out. And David and I tried a couple of the restaurants in the area. David really likes the Japanese one."

"Your husband is an Asian food fanatic," Elena replied. "Do you get him to go to any other kind very often?"

"Well, not too many other kinds. If we take the kids, it has to be Italian. You know how much they like pizza and spaghetti. But when it's just us, it's got to be Japanese, Chinese or Thai. I'm glad to hear that you are settling in. Now, tell me, how about coming here for dinner, either tonight or tomorrow?"

"That would be terrific, Doris. Tomorrow would be better for me. I, uh, kind of have a commitment for tonight."

"Oh? What's his name?" the agent asked teasingly.

"Yeah. Right. You wish," was the laughing reply. "No, I've been doing a little personal research and need to compile my findings."

"Anything you want to talk about?"

Elena hesitated. Although Doris knew about her "uniqueness", as she liked to call it, Elena wasn't sure she could tell her about Vincent, and didn't know how much she could reveal. "Possibly later. I'll need to get much more information before I can tell anyone."

"Okay. I understand – I think. So you'll come over tomorrow, then. Do you want me to have someone pick you up or what?"

The two women discussed when and how Elena would get over to the house and hung up twenty minutes later. She cleaned up after herself, gathered what she wanted to take with her and left, heading to the library.

When she emerged from the library building, she was smiling. The librarian had told her that they had a hard time keeping Virginia Stewart's books on the shelves – they were that popular. Fortunately, one of her books was there, and Elena read it. She was able to see a similarity in hers and her mother's writing styles – further proof that they were related, in her opinion. But she still didn't have a picture of her mother. So she set out to track down some of the people who knew her parents. Her starting point was the names mentioned in the newspaper article about the memorial service. The library had phone books, and she'd found a couple of her parents' friends still living in the city. A few calls and she was soon on her way to visit them.

Xxxxx

Vincent spent the day prowling the tunnels restlessly. He knew that Jacob would be fine; Mary and Father doted on the boy, and were more than happy to care for him. He wanted to be with his son, but the emotions he was feeling from Elena distracted him, so he left Jacob with them and started wandering.

The only place he could be still at was, of course, the Mirror Pool, but even that place didn't calm his restlessness. He felt Elena's emotions as she went through the day, getting names and visiting people. He was glad to feel no strong negative emotions, but he was feeling impatient. Although he was certain that she was his sister, he wanted to know more. He wanted to know how they became separated, who his parents were, what they were like and, most importantly, how he came to be the way he was.

He sighed. I suspect I may never know why I am this way. Or if I do, it won't be for a very long time. I must be content with what she is able to tell me. But it will be hard, much harder than waiting for her to come.

Finally he sensed that she'd just left her apartment and was on her way. He hurried to the drainage ditch entrance to meet her.

xxxxx

When she returned home, tired but happy, she had a notepad full of information, and a couple of pictures of her parents. She'd stopped at one of the restaurants Doris had told her about earlier, and brought home some food. While she ate, she went over her notes, and typed them up so the stories she was told were consecutive and more coherent. She resolved to finish them as soon as possible, so she could show Vincent and Father.

Two hours later she had finished and was on her way to the park to show her brother what she'd learned so far. But the most important questions were still hanging, and she was fearful of what might happen to her, should she attempt to get the answers.