Chapter Nine

That day was not an easy one for me. I was still tired, hungover, and wondering what on earth I was going to do. By then I had decided that I was going to have to go back to the Curtis house that evening to ask them a few questions, mainly about Darrel Senior and Lydia. There were photographs I had queries about, and a small mahogany box with a lock but no key that I was hoping they could open.

But how to handle the situation with Darrel? It wasn't like I could avoid him, not in that small a house. And even if avoiding him were possible, I had a feeling he wouldn't let me.

I was still mulling this over at five that afternoon, as I lounged in a hot bath and Kelsey came into the bathroom with my dressing gown and heated towels.

"What am I going to do, Kels?" I moaned for what felt like the nine thousandth time.

"I can't answer that, I'm afraid," Kelsey replied as she arranged my combs and brushes on the marbled counter. "You still haven't told me exactly what happened. Was it his behavior that set you off so much, or your own?"

"Both," I muttered. The things Darrel had said still hurt. But I had said some fairly awful things too. I knew- and Kelsey knew- that when I was feeling angry enough and defensive enough, I could say truly horrible things to people, including people I loved. I had a tendency to lash out and go straight for the jugular in situations like that. It's something I've fought all my life.

She paused in her work to give me a long, searching look, and she sighed.

"What?" I asked curiously as I turned the taps to add more hot water.

Kelsey ran a hand through her black hair, looking very concerned. "I really think we should get you home as soon as possible, that's all. I don't like what this place is doing to you."

I frowned. "Doing what?"

"Look at you. You're pale, those circles under your eyes are back. And need I remind you of last night? I've never seen you in such a state."

Now it was my turn to sigh. "I know. Not my most shining moment. But hopefully I won't be here much longer. I just need-"

"Answers. I know." Kelsey kissed the top of my wet hair and left the room.

I leaned back in the hot water and let my thoughts wander. I was getting homesick now. Not just for New York, and my friends, and my life. For my mother. I missed Risa fiercely just then, with an ache in my heart that had been there a year now, ever since she took sick that last time and the doctors explained to me that she wouldn't be getting better.

I settled back more into the bubbles and yawned. The water was so hot, and I was so sleepy. Last night hadn't exactly been restful. The past year hadn't exactly been restful. I would close my eyes for a little while…just a little while…

I tiptoe out of the night nursery and down several corridors to my mother's bedroom, hiding shyly outside the doorway so I can watch her. Risa sits at her dressing table, getting ready for a night out. I love watching her in her beautiful dresses, putting on her makeup, and wish I could go with her. But apparently five-year-old girls don't go to the opera.

Risa applies mascara with perfect precision and blush to the apples of her cheeks. My mother is the most beautiful woman in the whole wide world. Suddenly she looks up at me and smiles.

"I didn't know you were up, darling," she exclaims, rising and swooping me up. She kisses me on both cheeks and sits back down at her dressing table, settling me on her lap. I snuggle into her arms as she wraps them around my waist.

"Tell me a secret, Risa," I request. We play this game all the time.

"All right." She pauses, thinking, her sparkling eyes meeting mine in the mirror. Then she grins and whispers in my ear, "When I was your age, I used to sneak out of school with my friend Cornelia, and we'd go to the park and make daisy chains all afternoon!" She tickles my stomach, and I'm shrieking with laughter.

The next thing I know, I'm holding Risa's cold hand as she sleeps. My eyes find the mirror hanging on the wall in the hospital room, and if I had the energy I would gasp at my haggard appearance. I turn fifteen years old today, but I look far older. My hair hangs limp around my shoulders, my complexion is white as marble, and the circles around my blue eyes are so dark they look bruised. Staying at Risa's bedside twenty-four hours a day was having an effect, but I in no way care, because I won't leave her.

I stare down at my mother, one hand clutching the locket that she had given me that morning. The worn, emaciated woman in the bed barely resembles the woman I know. The woman who would pick me up and twirl me in circles, the woman who gave lavish parties and was the toast of Society but still, even now, made sure to be home every school night to tuck me in before she went out. The woman who taught me how to be the best person I could. Was this really my mother, hooked up to all these machines, looking so thin and so frail?

She stirs then and I sit up a little straighter, feeling that cold hand squeeze my own as she opens her eyes and looks over at me, smiling.

"Hello, darling," she says, reaching up to run her hand through my lank hair.

I manage, barely, to keep from sobbing. Instead, I say softly , "Tell me a secret, Risa."

My mother smiles again at this, still our favorite game. She thinks for awhile, then touches my arm and whispers to me, "The very happiest moment of my life was the day they placed you in my arms. I knew then that I had met my daughter."

Suddenly I was breathing in water, and surged to the surface of the bath, gasping for air, still choking. I realized immediately that I had fallen asleep, and was not surprised to find tears coursing down my cheeks, mingling with the bathwater dripping from my hair.

I hated these times, and I cherished them too. My memories came back to me as dreams, clear, painful, beautiful and exactly as they had happened. It was a blessing and a curse, and the reason that while I did not sleep soundly anymore, I also slept far too much.

I shook the water out of my eyes and climbed out of the tub, toweling myself off and slipping on my dressing gown as I dashed into my bedroom to get dressed. I shouted for Kelsey to call a cab.

Enough was enough. I had to fix this thing with Darrel, or I at least had to try. In some strange way I did not understand, he was family. Those three boys were family. And he had been trying, in his own fashion, to look out for me.

But now I had to wonder if he would forgive me.

Or if he even could.

A/N: I know this was short, again, and not especially eventful. But I wanted this chapter, this little slice of Mia's past, to stand on its own. I'll update quite soon… big things will soon be happening! Please review if you're reading, I want and need feedback. Special notes to reviewers with specific comments/questions:

Araz: Thanks as per usual for the lovely review. You always manage to make me think! A Bloody Mary, while an alcoholic drink, is a long-used hangover cure, one that actually does work wonders. They make fabulous ones at any Ritz-Carlton hotel, especially. A suite at the Ritz and one of their Bloody Marys will cure just about anything.

melchick: When I was thinking of their mother, Lydia just seemed to fit. I'm glad you think so too!

Kitala: Thank you! And rest assured that I will always update this story, at least once a week. If people are reading it, I will update it.

Chica: Your reviews were fantastic- thanks so much! Princess Ishtar sounds very interesting- I shall have to find out more about her.

And FYI to all those who wish to know if Mia will fall in love with a member of the gang: Currently, Mia has a boyfriend in New York. As she is a lady, she would not date two people at once. Yes, many people do this. But not Mia. For now, that is all I will say on the matter.

Well, that's about it. Thanks so much for reading!