Dusk had crept over the sky by the time Anna entered the café on the street corner. The establishment walls and modern seating were all the same hideous, brilliant shade of red. The design was meant more to be unique than to relax.

She scanned the first floor before remembering she didn't know who had called her out. Obviously the mysterious caller knew her—they'd known that she had left Arendelle, that she was back now. She frowned and took a retro staircase next to the door up to the second level. The moment she reached the top step, she heard her name. She turned toward the source of the voice, a small table for two at a corner window.

"You…" she said, blinking as she approached Hans Westergaard at his table. He beckoned her over impatiently, his other arm resting on the table's surface.

"Sit."

He pushed the empty chair out with his foot. Its scrape against the floor made Anna wince, but she took a seat, staring at the singer.

"I have questions for you," he explained.

Murmurs a few tables over drew her ear. Anna twisted around in her seat and saw other customers staring. No… they were staring at Hans, not her. It had been so long since she'd gone downtown because people recognized her as the sister of the late Elsa Frost. Thankfully, all eyes were on the singer right now.

"Wait, what?" She raised her eyebrow. What could he possibly want to ask her?

Oh. Did he want his money already? Her mouth went dry.

Of course, her anxiety went unnoticed. He took a graceful sip of the black coffee in front of him and cleared his throat as if considering how to broach a delicate subject. Anna suspected this hesitance was just for show.

"You said… if things had turned out differently, you and Kris might have gotten engaged."

Anna stared blankly. Again, the singer was fixated on her made-up relationship with Kristoff Bjornsson. Bjorken. Bjornberg?

Hans appeared to be waiting for her to respond.

"I did…say that…"

It wasn't a total lie. Had she and Kristoff ever been in an actual relationship, one day they might have gotten engaged.

"Well, what happened?"

Anna let out a choked laugh.

"What? Why?"

The singer grew solemn. "Kris is my dearest friend. I want to know."

"Ah…" She thought back to those cliché romances. The story had to be plausible. She really didn't expect to have to keep it up for so long. "Our parents didn't approve." That would do it. But when Hans groaned, she worried he didn't buy it.

"What is this, the 19th century?" he said. "Parents…"

Anna shrugged. He wasn't looking at her. It wasn't her explanation he took issue with; he gazed into space, his thoughts miles—perhaps years—away.

"Do you have my money?"

Anna gulped. So, he did expect it back already.

"I don't have it right this second…"

The singer sighed and watched the steam roll off of his beverage, but that didn't fool Anna. There was disdain in his eyes now. He had hoped for… what, she didn't know. Her answer about Kristoff had disappointed him somehow.

"It was a loan, not a donation," he said coolly.

"Of course!" Her eyes widened. "I have every intention of paying you back. You just… you don't know what I've been through since I got home! I've lost everything. Everything! Otherwise I'd give you the money right now if I could!" He became a blur of auburn, brown and black as she started to tear up, much to her bewilderment. She strained her eyes to keep from blinking.

Don't let the tears fall. Do not cry in front of this snob.

But the stress was too much. She sniffled once as two tears rolled down her cheeks. All she wanted was to rub her eyes dry, but that would make her look pathetic. No matter what her circumstances, he would only view them as an excuse.

"Get up," she heard as he stood.

Now she did wipe her eyes dry to look up at him. But Hans avoided eye contact, visibly unnerved by her crying. He moved past her and for a moment, she thought he would forget about the loan.

"Get up and come with me."

She turned around, uncertain. He'd stopped at the odd staircase to wait for her.

"What…?" She stood up shakily, still conscious of all the eyes on them as she followed him down the stairs and out to the street.

They turned left at the corner and ventured into the heart of Arendelle's shopping district on 12th street. He walked ahead of her at a brisk pace. She hung back behind him, but kept her eye on his back so she wouldn't lose him. She didn't want passersby to stare at the woman accompanying Hans Westergaard once people started to recognize him. Across the street, a massive department store took up half the floors of an eighty-plus story building owned by Fort Wenworth Holdings. The rest of the building must have been businesses and restaurants.

A few minutes into following Hans, Anna thought of calling out to ask where they were going and, more importantly, why he wanted her to tag along. But the singer suddenly stopped and turned to a shop on his right, eyeing the faceless mannequins in the window display. Anna stopped a foot away from him and looked into the window.

Her face scrunched up in confusion. SEASONS was a well-known women's luxury clothing boutique. It was a small business that only the wealthy could afford. Anna only knew about it because Elsa had sometimes shopped there and dragged Anna along.

They'd bicker about Elsa paying for everything. Elsa always wanted Anna to dress more elegantly for work while Anna said it was a waste to spend so much money on dressing up for a job.

"This is your career we're talking about!" Elsa had said once.

"No. You have a career. I just have a job."

In the end, she'd always relent and allow her older sister to at least buy her one blouse or skirt. It was embarrassing to wear brand .name stuff into the office. Her co-workers never failed to ask if the clothing was a gift from her famous sister.

"Why are we here…?" she asked now, unsure how much time she'd spent thinking of the past.

He only said, "Come on," as he opened the door for her. She gave him a nervous glance before entering the shop. It seemed that his mood was constantly fluctuating. What were they doing at a luxury clothing store? She'd certainly made it clear she had no money.

Hans kept up the mystery, guiding Anna from rack to rack in silence. He paused to lift one hanger up toward her. She blushed at the scrutiny as his green eyes darted back and forth between her and a cream and turquoise chiffon draped mid-length dress with thin shoulder straps. After a pause, he shook his head and held it out to a store clerk Anna hadn't even heard creep up behind them. Next, he picked up a wine colored fit and flare with a top layer of black lace over the dress skirt. He barely held it up next to Anna before he shook his head and moved on. This went on for what felt like an hour to Anna. The navy wrap-style cocktail dress with the long sleeves was no good. He didn't like the mauve and pleated fit flare dress either. He exhaled in dissatisfaction. Anna almost felt guilty that she wasn't measuring up to any of the shop's items, but then she remembered she didn't ask for this little shopping trip.

"Ah!" Hans exclaimed softly, wildly gesturing for her to come with him to the "New" items on display along the wall. Anna shook her head at the lofty prices.

Hans snapped his fingers, summoning the shop clerk and consulting with her in a low voice as he pointed up at an olive green skater dress with lace long sleeves. Finally he turned to Anna to ask for her dress size.

"Wait, what?"

"Don't be obtuse. What size are you?"

"Th…thirty-eight…"

Hans signaled to the clerk to bring the appropriate size for Anna. It had been months since she last wore a dress. Hopefully she was the same size.

"I'm conf—" she started to say when Hans swept around her to the nearest display of shoes.

"Shoe size?"

"Also thirty-eight…"

She heard a pause. Then, suddenly he was in front of her again with a pair of tan peep toe pumps. He allowed her a single glance before he handed the shoes off to the shop clerk who returned with a size thirty-eight dress. Anna really didn't want to check the price for the shoes, but her curiosity got the best of her.

"Okay, enough is enough—"

Again, she found herself talking to the air as Hans had run off to the jewelry counter. Anna groaned and followed. There was no way she could afford any of this. What did he think he was playing at?

Whatever game it was, Hans wasn't done. Now he was pointing at an artisan crafted sterling silver and peridot cuff bracelet in the display case. He glanced over at Anna, squinting in thought before he pointed at a second bracelet, a braided sterling. A second shop clerk nodded and carefully removed the bracelets from the case. Hans almost turned away, but he stopped himself. He sidled farther down the display case to pore over the earring selection.

Anna stared helplessly toward the check-out counter where the clerks rounded up and bagged the dress, pumps, bracelets and a pair of peridot drop earrings. Her head throbbed upon hearing the total. It got even worse when Hans pulled out his wallet and had everything charged to his card. She tried to find her voice to object to it, but her curiosity won out. Hans turned to her and placed the bagged purchases in her hands.

She stood there dumbly, gaping at the bag in confusion. She thought she heard Hans give the clerks his thanks as he touched Anna's back and gently guided her to the exit. She mumbled her own thanks, though it was unclear even to her whether she was directing it to the shop workers or Hans himself.

Neon lights and traffic glowed outside where the temperature had dropped for the evening. Anna studied the man who had demanded his money back just moments ago. Then she looked down at the bag from SEASONS. It just didn't make sense.

"What's all this for? Now I'll just owe you more money." The second statement was an afterthought she'd agonize over later. For now, she needed an answer.

Hans shrugged. "I want to help you."

Something squeezed at Anna's heart amidst her growing confusion. "How?"

He smiled and patted her on the shoulder. He probably wasn't trying to be patronizing, but did she really want to be his little charity case?

"Go home and get some rest. I'll text you tomorrow."

Now her head spun. He would text her tomorrow? The casual way he said it made it sound like they were… friends or… something. In fact, if not for the awkward conversation and shopping, their meeting had been a little bit like a…

No, Anna. This was not a date.

But as she watched him nod and turn to go his separate way, she wondered. It was completely unfeasible that the singer had any romantic interest in her. They'd just met… and more than once she'd been a total inconvenience to him. He'd just evidently taken pity on her. That was it.

Still, she felt like she was floating her entire walk home.

It gave Anna a start to wake up in her empty bedroom. She sat up and stretched, her hair in the usual catastrophe it got itself into when she slept. Out of habit, she looked for the clock where her nightstand used to be.

Oh. Right…

She rubbed the grogginess from her eyes as she picked up her cellphone to check the time. Eight o'clock? Not bad. She felt oddly refreshed although sore after sleeping on the floor. A shower would help.

Anna frowned as it occurred to her she didn't have any towels. With a sigh, she crawled over to her suitcase by the wall to pick out a couple of shirts to dry off with. It was better than nothing, she told herself. With that, she grabbed her travel shampoo, conditioner and soap and headed for the bathroom.

The hall outside her door seemed naked without all its former photographs and decorations. Anna wasn't sure which was the stranger here, herself or the house. Home hadn't felt like home ever since Elsa started spending so much time away for work. But the emptiness now was a new extreme.

At least the water and electricity were still running—as well they should be since she paid her utility bills at the start of the month.

The new year was in just another couple of days though. What would she do then?

Anna let the water warm up before she hopped into the shower. She turned her back toward the falling water, breathing out all her stress as her muscles started to relax.

When she was done, she turned the water off and wrung her hair out.

Thunk.

She stood up straight, startled. What was that?

Thunk, thunk. The sound was followed by voices, unless she imagined them. They were too distant to make out what they were saying.

"…the master bedroom!" someone shouted.

Anna held back a cry. The master suite was in its own hall and had access from a smaller staircase from the living room. The problem was that the bathroom she was using—the second bathroom—faced that hall. She hadn't brought any clothes for changing into the bathroom with her. Since she'd brought the two shirts for towels, it had slipped her mind.

But being naked in front of strangers was a secondary concern. First of all, who was that shouting downstairs?! She let out an indignant little snarl and hopped out of the shower, quickly patting herself as dry as she could get with the two shirts. Her hair was soaked, but she'd blow it dry later.

With the two damp shirts in tow, Anna crept out into the hall. She dashed to the left to get to her room.

"…you hear that?" a man asked.

"Yeah, hardwood floors. Just the house settling," another answered.

"I dunno, man. I heard the former residents all died."

"Snap out of it. We've gotta get all this furniture in by noon or we won't make our one o'clock."

Anna stood very still, her hand on her bedroom door handle. She'd already cracked the door open but had remained frozen out in the hall to listen to the two men speak.

" 'ey, where's Mick? I can't get this mattress up those stairs by myself!" a third man complained, sounding frazzled.

Anna felt her hopes rise. Perhaps it was her furniture they were moving back into the house? But what was that they'd said about former residents?

"He's out by the truck! Here, I'll help ya."

They were coming up. Who the hell were they?!

She was careful not to slam her door as she darted back into her room and locked the door behind her. With very strict instructions to herself not to panic, she dropped to the floor and rummaged through her suitcase for clean clothes. She was down to her last clean set of clothes. With no washer and dryer, she'd have to get to a laundromat at some point. When it came down to it though, she'd have to choose between clean clothing and a meal.

Angry with the turn her thoughts had taken, Anna yanked a dark pair of jeggings up her thighs and threw on her magenta cardigan over a blank tank top before stomping back out into the hall.

"Hey!" she yelled down at the two movers lifting the massive mattress at the bottom of the stairs. They both yelped in surprise and gawked up at her.

"Oh, great. A squatter!" the man with the frazzled voice pointed at her.

"I am not a squatter. This is my home!" she snapped.

A third mover came up to join his companions, all three of them gaping up at her before they started chuckling amongst one another. Anna stormed down the stairs, fuming.

"Riiight… and uh.. how long have you been living here?"

"All my life. Now get this stuff out of my house!"

"Sorry, sweetheart. No can do. This house is sold, and we've been hired to get the owner's stuff in here. Now if you leave quietly, no one needs to know you were ever here…"

"S-sold?! There must be some misunderstanding. I didn't sell the house," she protested. Their faces suggested they believed that about as much as they believed in Father Christmas.

" 'ey, Mick?! Get in here! Bring the schedule!" Frazzle-voice yelled with his head turned back toward the front door. Some seconds later, a younger man walked in with a clipboard ready. He looked at the rest of them in question when he noticed Anna blocking the stairs.

"Give me that." One of the others snagged the clipboard and lifted it for Anna to see. There was a spreadsheet attached, the top stamped with 'Arendelle Movers'. It was a schedule, complete with addresses, times, directions

She quickly scanned the column of addresses at the left; sure enough, 2 Crocus Boulevard was near the top.

"There must be a mistake…" she murmured.

The movers did not appear to be listening. In fact, the two had gone back to trying to drag the large mattress up the stairs.

"Are you listening to me?! I said there's been some mistake!" she snapped.

The two on the stairs hesitated while the third gently retrieved his clipboard from her hands. The three of them laughed, shaking their heads.

"Yeah. Maybe you're in the wrong house!" They laughed even harder.

This was too much. The trip gone awry, her house stripped of all her possessions and now sold off without her knowledge?

"Stop!" she yelled. Her rage had reached its limit. No more playing the helpless mourner. The movers kept on task, ignoring her entirely. "Stop, or I'll call the police!" This time, her voice hit the ceiling.

But they didn't even pause. Her threat to go to the authorities was another joke to them, which they laughed about all the way up to the second level.

Anna balled her fists. That's it. She would go to the police.

Anna felt like a pauper as she rolled her suitcase up the sidewalk to the police station. Then she realized she was one—the suitcase contained everything she still owned. The worst of it was that even though everything that had happened was out of her control, she felt she could have done something to prevent it.

She swallowed as she stopped a few feet short of the entrance. Having never made a report to the police before, she didn't know what to expect. What if they didn't believe her, like the movers?

Her phone chimed. She pulled it out and found a text message from an unknown number. The restaurant name, address and time in the message puzzled her, but the accompanying, "Wear the dress!" reminded her that the unknown number was Hans.

Well, this was weird. She bit her lower lip, confused by the invitation to dinner. Hans had said he would help her. Was this outing just the first step?

Surely just helping her didn't mean he had to buy her such an expensive dress! The grand total for everything he'd gotten her from SEASONS would have cost a good chunk of her paycheck if she still had her old job. But she didn't have a job. She didn't have much money. And now she apparently didn't even have a home!

Still, a tiny part of her had to wonder… the dress, the invitation… was this meant to be a date?

Anna laughed out loud at herself, startling a couple exiting the police station.

Yeah, Anna. Hilarious. Let's get this over with.

She entered the building with newly budded determination. But as she approached the front desk, she thought back to the note left by Rapunzel and Eugene. Okay, so nothing could excuse the multiple betrayals of trust. They'd sent her on a hoax vacation to get her out of the way so they could take her things and sell her house—Elsa's house! Their parents' house! The house she, Elsa and Rapunzel had grown up in. But... could she really report them without knowing the full story?

One day, we'll explain everything. We hope you can forgive us then.

Would Rapunzel expect her forgiveness if there wasn't a reason for everything? A good reason?

Don't be such a pushover, Anna!

Her blood boiled as her ego tried to mediate her feelings. A shout erupted from the entrance. She jumped and glanced back. Three officers grappled with a scruffy man who kicked out, swung his arms, dove and squatted to free himself from their grip, even though they'd already cuffed him. The four of them knocked past Anna as if they didn't even see her in their path.

She gulped as she caught the perpetrator's startlingly silver eye. He had a thin mustache and neatly trimmed beard that hugged his jawline, which twitched as he shot her a leering smile.

"What'cha lookin' at, luv? Like a man in cuffs?!"

Anna backed up although the officers escorted him deeper into the station, putting more distance between her and him. His laugh could be heard even as he went out of sight.

She realized her heart was racing and she had leaned back against a wall with a bulletin board. It was covered in wanted posters. Would Rapunzel and Eugene's faces go up there if she made this report?

Anna's mouth went dry. She didn't even glance at the desk as she turned back toward the door and left the station.

She walked until she was a few buildings away. Only then did she stop.

Did she have the heart to report her own cousin? She didn't know. But… Rapunzel was the last living relative she'd ever been close with. So, she'd at least sleep on it.

But first, dinner with Hans Westergaard.

A/N: I rarely get more than a half hour at a time to work on these stories, so yeah… slow updates, lol. Thank you for reading! The dinner will be the next chapter. Stay tuned!