AN: Okay, I just need a momet to get this rant off my chest. I recently got a series of 'reviews' from an unknown person. While I can take some constructive critisism, I cannot tolerate it when you insult me at the same time. Thankfully, the reviews in questions could be deleted, as they were anonymous. Most of the things stated, I will not repeat, but I just want to reiterate, for one of them: I do not censor out swear words in my fics to make them more acceptable for readers. I do it because I personally don't feel comfortable writing them out. It was how I was raised, simple as that. In a nutshell: Don't like, don't read.

Moving on, here's the next instalment. Hope it makes up for the last chapter being so short.

A week had gone by since the infamous conversation between Emily and Officer Kurtz. Mark and the others had filled Collins and Joanne in on what they had heard after Emily had returned to the Center. Naturally, they were both stunned, but eventually, they had all agreed that the best thing to do was to just be there for their friend, and hope she would eventually tell them the whole story.

On this day, they had set the whole day aside to visit her at The Center. When they arrived, Emily was standing in the doorway of a room, watching the children of the Center play. There was a faraway look on her face.

"Emily? What's wrong?" Mimi asked, immediately noticing the uneasy expression on the photographer's face. Emily took a moment to reply.

"Come with me," she invited finally.

Emily led the bohemians through The Center and up a flight of stairs, where they came to a door with a large wooden 'E' covered in blue paint nailed to it. Emily opened the door and led them into the room that obviously was where she lived. It was about the size of an average second grade classroom. In one corner, a wooden divider served as a makeshift wall that shielded an iron cast bed, like the ones that were in the children's dorm, from the sun that would shine through the window at dawn. Overall, the room held a great collection of 'recycled' junk that had been repurposed, such as an old shipping crate that had been turned into a magazine rack and an electric wire spool that now served as a table. In a patch of sun that was shining through the window, a black miniature potbellied pig, obviously Emily's pet Wenceslas, looked up when the group had entered, but upon seeing Emily, he seemed to decide that the rest of them could be trusted and went back to sleep.

The six friends watched as Emily picked up an opened letter that was lying on an electric wire table and handed it to them.

"Remember when I told you that this place was kept open under funding?" she began. "Well, lately, we're getting more children coming to The Center then we can handle. And I'm sure you're all aware that they're coming out with new AIDS treatments. And that means more expenses. In any event, we no longer have enough funding to keep this place going. That letter came this morning. It's a foreclosure notice. We only have a month left, then we all have to vacate."

"What's going to happen to the children?" Roger asked.

"Chances are they'll be taken to a children's hospital."

"Well, that would be good," Joanne pointed out. "There, they can be better provided for and receive the best treatment possible."

"That's not the part I'm worried about," Emily whispered, looking away.

"Excuse me, Emily?" Nana announced, poking her head into the room. "I'm sorry, but the adoption agency we're partnered to is on the phone. They said… it's that Colmillo person. He's filled out all the paperwork.. for Penny's adoption."

"What!" Emily's eyes widened as she made a mad dash for the phone, picking it up in desperation. "Yes, hello! Listen, I really don't think you realize what you're doing…. Yes, I know Colmillo seems like a nice man and all, and that he appears to be able to provide for her, but… Oh, will you just listen to me for a moment? This guy gave me a bad vibe when we met with each other last week. I'm not convinced he's the type of man who can care for Penny properly….. Okay, look. I know I'm starting to sound like a broken record, here, but I want to adopt Penny. I understand that I'm under twenty-five, and I have no steady income, and there's that single mother thing, but I know I can make it…Are you lau…he's laughing at me! No, no, don't hang… Don't hang… Hello? Hello!" Emily slammed the phone back on the cradle. "Mannaggia!" Breathing heavily, she rested her head against the wall, muttering under her breath in what sounded like Italian.

"Hey, Emily?" Mark asked, moving closer to his friend in concern. "Are you all right?"

"Yeah. Yeah, Mark. I'll be fine. Sorry for blowing up like that, guys," Emily breathed. "It's just that I've been on edge enough as it is lately, and now this. Everything's all happening at once. It's like what they say. When it rains, it pours."

After a few more deep breaths in an attempt to calm down, Emily dropped down into a chair.

"Penny's not like the others, you see. She's not here because her parents had AIDS or were on drugs. Her mother died giving birth to her, and since she has no known living relatives, she's been here ever since. But because Penny doesn't have the same… condition as the others, she's a prime choice for parents looking to adopt." At this point, Emily buried her face in her hands. "Penny and I; we've never been apart since she was born. She's always been around. And, ever since I turned eighteen, I knew I wanted to adopt her. Most hopeful couples would look at Penny and want to adopt her off the back because she's perfectly healthy. Not me. I wouldn't care if she was autistic, or born with an extra head, or had spina bifida. None of that's important. Because she's just Penny. I was there when she learned how to walk, how to talk, when she was teething, when she was potty-trained, when she lost her first tooth. And now they're trying to take her away from me, so I will no longer be able to be there for her, and be present for all of her firsts. I couldn't bear that, because no one could love that little girl more then me. And I couldn't love her more if she was my own flesh and blood." Sighing, Emily got back up and started to fiddle with her locket. "How can I say goodbye, now?"

"Maybe… you won't have to," Mimi spoke up. "We still have a month, right? Perhaps we could help you get enough money together to keep this place open a while longer. That way, you wouldn't have to put any of the children up for adoption, and you'll have more time to figure out a way to keep Penny."

"I appreciate the thought, but legality is against me there," Emily shook her head. "They would never let someone like me, a single mother under twenty-five, adopt any child. It doesn't help that I have no paying job."

"Emily, don't forget that I am a lawyer," Joanne pointed out. "I'm sure, if you give me a bit of time, I could find some loophole in the adoption laws that would enable you to keep Penny."

"As for the money," Mark added. "I still have a bit left over from the work I did at Buzzline. That's yours for the taking."

"Mimi and I can also throw in some of the money from our teaching jobs at NYU," Collins offered. "And we still have the ATM at the Food Emporium."

"OH, OH!" Maureen inputted. "And I could do a protest against closing this place down, and…"

"Why does it always have to be a protest with you?" Roger fired out.

"It might not be much, Emily," Mimi smiled. "But it might be enough to keep The Center open for a little longer." Emily suddenly shook her head, frowning.

"No. No," she said. "No, I… I couldn't take your money. It wouldn't be right."

"And what would be right? Us sitting back and not helping out a friend who was in need?" Collins stated. "We're helping you out, Emily, whether you like it or not." Emily paused, looking around at the Bohemians, before bowing her head.

"I have to know," she replied finally, looking back up and smiling weakly. "I have to know. What did I do, to deserve friends like you?"

"Come on, we better get started," Mark announced,smiling at the photographer. "We only got a month. That's not very long."

AN: If anyone is interested in seeing what Wenceslas looks like, do a Google image search for 'miniature pot bellied pig'. It's the last picture in row one. I also hope, by now, I've convinced readers that Emily is not just another Mary Sue. If not, I'm sorry, I'm doing the best I can.