A/N: Sorry it's taken me so long to update! Hopefully you haven't forgotten too much of what's going on in my story lol. I promise I've been working hard at writing this thing and it will get moving along shortly, just got really stuck on this particular chapter for some reason! Thanks for reading everyone! Until 25…

Changes – 24

"So, what do you think?" Rafe asked hesitantly, not sure if the look on this man's face was one of interest or disapproval.

Mr. Montague was a short balding man with jet-black hair and a short mustache that curled ever so slightly at the ends. He walked around with a cane and spoke with a British accent. He made comments about everything as he ran his fingers along the furniture and admired the woodwork.

"It's a very grand house, Mr. Kovich," he finally said. "It needs a lot of work, a lot of repairs, but overall, quite magnificent. Of course, I am considering several other places, so I will have to get back to you when I've made a decision."

"That's fine. Take your time. I'm just glad at least someone has an interest in this place. I've noticed that not many people around here prefer to live in a house this big."

Mr. Montague laughed. "Oh I don't intend to live here, Mr. Kovich."

"Oh?"

"I don't mind the size of the house. Actually it's quite small compared to my home in England's countryside. But no, my interest in this house is strictly monetary."

"Monetary?" Rafe wasn't sure he liked where this was going.

"I'm opening a museum next year, right here in Romania. An old house like this would be the perfect setting. It's got this antique feeling to it, you know? It has a lot of history. And let's face it, you don't come across houses of this magnitude too often in rural Transylvania."

Rafe followed the man as he stepped into the foyer. "Mr. Montague, if I may ask. A museum for what exactly?"

Mr. Montague laughed. "What do you think, Mr. Kovich? The history of Transylvania, of course! Do you realize how much tourism has gone up in this country in the last twenty years? Ah, yes, it is the allure of the vampire which draws them here to this beautiful country."

Now Rafe definitely didn't like where this was going. He tried to keep a calm and steady voice. "A vampire museum?"

"Of course! I think it's a splendid idea!"

"Vampires never lived here, Mr. Montague."

Mr. Montague chuckled. "Well of course they never lived here! You and I both know there's no such thing as them! But do you think the public cares? I mean, this is the heart of Transylvania. You've seen the locals out in the market, haven't you? They're smart! They know all they have to do is to plaster Dracula's face on a piece of merchandise and they'll make money! I'm proposing a much larger venue than a market square. A place where they can visit, explore, and eventually, buy." Mr. Montague laughed arrogantly.

"Well," he announced, picking up his hat. "Mr. Kovich, I'll be getting back to you soon."

"You know what? Don't bother."

"Excuse me?"

"I changed my mind. The house is not for sale."

"I'm sorry?"

"No you heard me!" Rafe snapped.

"I don't understand."

"No, you don't understand! This house has been in my family for generations! Okay! This is where my parents began their life together. And I'll be damned if I'm going to let you tarnish their memory by turning this place into some vampire museum!"

Mr. Montague gave Rafe a cold glare. "Very well. I wasn't that interested anyway!" He placed his hat on his head and walked out the door in a huff. "Good day, Mr. Kovich," he said curtly, though it was obvious that he didn't mean it.

"Try the old Morley Mansion! I hear it's pretty creepy!" Rafe called out.

"Rafe, what is the matter?" Alison demanded. "I can hear you yelling all the way from the den."

Rafe turned around to see Alison standing in the doorway, Katrina right behind her.

"I'm not selling this house to that man! That's what's going on!"

"What happened? Why are you yelling?"

"You know why he wanted to buy this place? Huh? You want to guess why?"

Alison shook her head silently. It wasn't often that Rafe was this angry. Whatever that man had said to him had certainly riled him up.

"I'll tell you what his plans were! He wants to turn this place into a museum! And not just any museum. No! A vampire museum! Can you believe that?" Rafe had to laugh to keep from completely losing it. "A damn vampire museum! Unbelievable!"

Rafe ran his hands through his hair as he began to pace around the room.

Katrina tugged lightly at her mother's shirt. "Daddy said a bad word," she whispered.

Alison kneeled down to her daughter's level. "Sweetie, why don't you go play for a while? Okay? Daddy and I have to talk about a few things."

Katrina did as she was told, leaving her parents alone.

"Rafe, I'm so sorry."

"How's that for irony? My family spends hundreds of years keeping vampires out of this place and then I almost make the mistake of selling this place to man who wants to invite them all in! Oh I bet Caleb's in hell having a field day with that one."

"Rafe, stop blaming yourself. It's not your fault. The guy's a jerk. He's just out to make a profit."

Rafe sat down on the window seat, feeling less angry, but now more sad. "I'm never going to be able to sell this place, Alison."

Alison sat down beside him and placed her hand on top of his. "No, of course you will. It's probably just going to take a lot longer than we both thought it would. But you'll find someone who will want this place, someone that will treat this house with the respect that it deserves."

"No, Alison. You don't understand. I'm never going to be able to sell this place because I can't let it go. I'm so sorry. I let you down. We're just going to have to find another way to pay for our house." With that, Rafe rose from his seat, then walked out the front door.

Alison watched him from the window as walked down the front steps and towards the woods. Her heart ached for him, and she wished she could hold him tight and take away all of his pain.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

"Hello, Precious," Grandma Katrina said, sitting down on the blanket beside Katrina.

"I'm having a picnic, Grandma. You can come join us." Katrina was including Bernie the bear and a couple of her favorite dolls.

"I can see that. I used to always have a picnic here in the rose garden."

"Rose is my middle name. It's my mommy's favorite flower."

"Mine too."

"Me too."

"Well that's something we all have in common."

"Daddy's mad," Katrina said suddenly, changing the subject.

"I know, Precious."

"This man who talked funny with a mustache came to our house this morning. I think he made Daddy angry."

"Well maybe you need to cheer your daddy up."

"How?"

"Oh I don't know. Something just tells me that if you just spend time with him, he'll be happy."

"Katrina! Come inside and pick up your toys!"

"I gotta go. If I don't pick up my toys, Mommy's going to be mad."

Grandma Katrina smiled. "Go ahead. I'll see you later, Precious."

"Bye, Grandma Kat." Katrina hopped up and ran to the door.

"Having a picnic with your dolls, sweetie?" Alison asked.

"Yeah, and Bernie and Grandma too!" Katrina skipped out of the room, heading to the living room to pick up her toys.

Alison looked out the window, seeing only Katrina's dolls and that silly ole stuffed bear.

xxxxxxxxxxxxx

Rafe found himself in front of his parents' gravestones, just as he had been the day before, and the day before that. He'd been coming here everyday. Sometimes just to visit. Other times, hoping for answers.

This time, he brought a handful of roses from the garden, laying them on the grass beside his mother's headstone. He kneeled down, tracing his finger along the letters of his mother's name.

"I wish you were here. I mean, I know you're here, up there, but sometimes I wish you were down here. You would know what to do. You always knew what to do."

Rafe felt a cool breeze blow through the trees. In the distance, he heard a bird sing. He looked up, squinting his eyes as the sunlight streamed through the tree branches. It was days like this that his mother loved. He knew in his heart that wherever she was, she was listening.

"Do you remember the time that we almost left? Remember how after Dad died, you didn't want to stay here anymore? But then you changed your mind and decided to stay. And not just for me, but because this was the one place where you could remember him the most. That's kind of how I feel. I feel closer to you here. I feel closer to your both." Rafe looked over to his father's headstone, next to his mother's for the rest of eternity now.

"I just want to know what to do. If you could just give me a sign, or something, that would be great."

Rafe stood up, not really sure what else to say. He glanced at the gravestones one last time, then decided it was time to go.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxx

As Katrina sat on the back porch, she happened to look up and see her father walking towards the house. Immediately, she hopped up from her seat and ran down the steps.

"Hi, Daddy!"

Rafe smiled at the sight of her. He went over to her and scooped her up into his arms. "Hello, Princess." He kissed her cheek and walked her back over to the porch.

"Where'd you go?"

"I went for a little walk. What's going on here?" Rafe looked at the table, decorated with little tea cups and stuffed animals sitting in the surrounding chairs. He set Katrina down beside them.

"We're having a tea party, Daddy. You want to have some tea with us?"

Rafe took a seat in an empty chair. "Sure, I'll have a cup."

Katrina picked up a cup and pretended to fill it up before gently handing it over to her father. "Be very, very careful of the cup! You don't want it to break!"

"Okay, I'll be very careful." Rafe took a sip of the imaginary tea.

"Is it good?"

Rafe gave her a smile. "It's the best ever."

"Are you feeling better now, Daddy?"

"Yes, I'm feeling better."

He may have said he was feeling better, but Katrina knew better. He still looked pretty sad to her.

"Don't be sad, Daddy. Grandma Kat said it's okay to let things go sometimes. Even though it's sad, you'll always, always have your memories."

Rafe looked down at Katrina, surprised to hear such words of wisdom come out of a five year old. "Grandma told you that?"

Katrina nodded. "Yeah. Cause I was sad too. I don't want the mustache man to live here."

"Don't you worry. He won't."

"Who will, Daddy?"

"I don't know, Princess. I just don't know."

They were silent for a moment, then Katrina picked up the tea pot. "You want some more tea?"

"I'd love some."