Thank you for the continued support. I was pleasantly surprised by the concern and fondness for Meghan. It's hard to let go of characters, especially original ones. Your comments help a lot.
Chapter Six
Myka pottered around in the living room, taking 'clutter' from the coffee table and putting it away as she waited for her sister to arrive. She hadn't thought to contact Tracy immediately after the events in Australia. As far as she could remember, they only spoke to each other at Christmas and other occasions where they both met with their parents. It had come as a pleasant surprise to learn that, not only were they close friends, but that the younger Bering was privy to all of her Warehouse secrets too.
It had been four days after moving into the shop apartment when Tracy had first turned up, accompanied by a puzzled-looking six-year-old. The moment they were in the door, the younger woman had pulled her sister into a hug, almost crushing the life out of her.
"Er, hi?" Myka said as she patted her sister's back and tried to understand what was happening.
"Helena called me," Tracy explained into the shell of an ear. "This is weird for you, isn't it?" she asked before pulling back and holding the regent trapped at arms' length.
"A bit, but it's ok," Myka backtracked hastily. "It's a nice surprise." The silent perusal continued past the point of comfortable and the regent had to cough to cover her squirming. "So," she began, drawing out the word. "We do this a lot?"
"Perhaps not this exact thing," Tracy shrugged through a relaxed grin. "We've been close for so long now, I barely remember a time when we didn't get along. Being with HG and Christina changed you for the better; loosened you up," she teased and, to the older woman's relief, dropped her arms. "And I finally learnt to appreciate what an awesome sister I have… You of course always knew I was amazing."
Rolling her eyes, Myka smacked Tracy's shoulder. She rested aimless hands on her hips and searched around for something to say. Her eyes caught the gaze of the little boy. "So, who's this little guy?"
"I'm Mikey," the six-year-old answered with an expression that clearly said 'you should know that'. He considered his aunt for several seconds before turning to his mother. "Mommy, can I go play now?"
Tracy scruffed his hair. "Yes," she responded with fond exasperation. "Just remember: whatever you get out, you have to tidy away." She slumped into the couch and looked up at her sister's lost expression. "He's six going-on sixteen. All I hear from him these days is 'Freddy this' and 'Danny that'."
"Danny?" Myka asked as she cautiously took a seat on the far end of the couch.
"Michael's older brother, Daniel. He's just a few months older than Freddy." Studying the regent for a moment, Tracy sighed. "You really did lose a huge chunk of your memories, huh? That's like, ironic or something, right? What with you having a photographic memory and all?"
The regent didn't smile. Later, she would attribute her reaction to simple confusion for the reality in which she found herself, but whatever the cause, the reminder that she wasn't entirely compos-mentis made her feel defensive instead and she stiffened. "Are you going to tell me that I owe you money or something?"
Though feeling the sting of the accusation, spoken in a tone that she recalled well from their days as teens, Tracy decided to find the funny side. "You got me! I lent you five grand and I've come to collect."
Myka flushed, hesitating as she realised the harshness of her words and once again tried to backtrack. "I'm sorry, I…" Tears of frustration and confusion pricked at the backs of her eyes but she fought them back.
Tracy nodded and leaned forward onto her elbows. She couldn't begin to imagine how it would feel to lose all memories of a happy life with her family. She wasn't sure what might trigger the regent's defences but knew that she couldn't always walk on eggshells. "Helena said that you're not sure if this is reality or something cooked up by an artefact."
The apology died on Myka's face at the mention of the Victorian and she scrutinised her sister. "Yeah. What else did she say to you?"
Tracy lowered her voice to answer, not wanting her son to overhear. "That you're pretty pissed off with her." She watched the fight drain temporarily from her sister's eyes as the regent's mind took her to a dark place. "I can't pretend to understand what you're going through right now, but I know what happened in Egypt and I know about all of the horrible things that Helena did. You need time to process all of that again, but you're not alone this time. Ok, Myka?" She reached over to wrap a hand around a clenched fist. "Artefact fantasy or not, you have a lot of people on your side. Don't forget that."
Myka stared at her sister for several seconds, as if the other woman had grown a second head. How could this be real? Every one of her senses told her that it wasn't a dream and yet she couldn't quite wrap her head around her sister being there, offering support.
"I can see those cogs turning, Myka," Tracy teased with an understanding smile. She reached into her bag and pulled out a media storage device. "I have just the remedy for that – home movies!"
The movies had consisted of Kevin, Tracy and their two boys, mostly at home wrestling on the living room rug or chasing each other around the garden, but occasionally, amongst them was a clip of Myka and her children, which inevitably included a peek of Helena.
Now, almost a month later, the shock had started to wear off and those glimpses were becoming more tantalising than tormenting. That was why she often found herself tidying things that didn't need to be tidied, as a way to keep her mind occupied. Though, since most of those menial tasks were second nature to her now, the action had become more of a nervous habit than anything.
A huff of relief passed her lips as she heard footsteps on the stairs leading up into the apartment and she hastily dropped a now polished coaster back onto the coffee table. "Hey Trace," she greeted as the young woman entered the living room, carrying her overnight bag. She stole herself for the hug that was bound to come and felt triumphant in noticing that the awkwardness was no longer there. "I'm so glad you could make it tonight."
"Feeling stir crazy?" Tracy asked with a knowing look. She fell into the couch and her companion followed suit.
Myka shrugged and thought about her obsessive cleaning. "A bit. I just can't switch off when I'm on my own."
"Yeah? Well I've told ya, you don't have to be on your own, Myka," the younger woman retorted as she kicked off her shoes and made herself comfortable. "I'm surprised that you haven't spent more time in the shop at least."
The regent felt her sister's eyes boring into the side of her head and shifted self-consciously in her seat. "I don't know what I'm doing down there," she responded sullenly.
"So, you'll learn…? It's a bookshop. Aren't books like familiars to you?" Tracy said, her tone light but making it clear that she thought the excuse was worthless. "Come on, sis, you've never shied away from learning. What's the big deal?"
Myka sighed and sank her fingers into her curls. "I just… I don't want to break anything."
"Break anything?" Tracy mulled over those words for a moment until she thought she understood what her sibling meant. "You think you'll do something to compromise the life that you and Helena have built together?"
The older Bering searched her feelings and eventually nodded. "Not me. The Myka that you knew before she lost her memories… She had a wife, kids, a house, a position of respect and authority, and I'm…"
Abigail would say something about that third person stuff, the younger sibling thought to herself as she listened to her sister speak. Psychology wasn't her thing though, so she simply said the first thing that came to mind, "Just a woman who fell in love and got her heart broken?"
Myka nodded and shifted uncomfortably. "I should have known better. I should've listened to Artie and then… who knows…? Helena might have gotten the help she needed and I wouldn't've endangered the entire team… the entire world," she lamented.
The frown marring Tracy's features deepened. "Didn't Artie want to put her back in the bronzer?" Before her sister could even begin to think of a response, she shook her head. "It unnerves me when you say things that make me sound like the smart one." She waited to catch the regent's eyes with her own hard gaze. "The position, the house, the kids and especially the wife are all part of your life because you trusted your instincts and let yourself fall. And not just once, but you let HG back in after she went bat-shit crazy."
Myka tried to control the sullen expression that wanted to take over her face, but it wasn't easy when her younger sister was telling her off and making a lot of sense to boot. "People would say I was stupid to trust her again," she argued weakly.
"People are stupid. Do you care what they think?" An annoyed wave dismissed any answer that might have been forthcoming. "For someone who likes to look at the evidence, you're making a lot of assumptions about what-ifs," Tracy retorted. She sighed heavily, releasing the irritation that was backing up in her veins. "Look, be angry all you like. HG hurt you and you've got to exorcise that somehow. But don't rationalise your life. It won't fit neatly inside a box. Just… let it happen – if it feels right, do it." She watched a shadow of panic cross her companion's features and began to consider a new avenue of enquiry. "Unless… Myka, are you already thinking about giving it another go with HG?" She sat forward in her chair, her whole body turned to show her indivisible attention.
"No!" she shook her head profusely. Feeling trapped under the scrutiny, Myka wiped suddenly sweaty palms against her trousers. "I don't… I'm not ready for… that."
Recognising the walls that were going up all around her sister, Tracy sat back, taking the pressure off. "Ok, I get it. I don't mean to push, really. Maybe we should talk about something else for a while but," she clasped her hands together in her lap and turned her serious expression on her sister, "before we change the subject, I just want you to know that you and Helena were happy together for years and I want that for you again."
Myka watched the other woman for long enough to know that the younger Bering was being deadly serious. Every time Helena came to the shop to pick the kids up, or Myka visited her marital home to spend time with her children, she felt the same pull that had affected her when she'd first met the fugitive HG Wells. She'd tried to resist it then too, to no avail. This time, she'd sworn that she wouldn't be drawn in so easily, but domestic, remorseful Helena Wells was a different creature entirely. Perhaps Tracy had the right idea and she should stop overthinking her life. Every little decision these days had her second guessing herself and the effort was exhausting. Could she and HG be happy again?
What if I'm not what she wants anymore? She's changed, but I haven't… And there I go again, overthinking. Going with the change of subject, Myka considered the amount of time they had to spend together and asked her sister to pull out whatever she'd brought for them to watch. Tracy revealed another data storage device and plugged it into the TV while Myka made coffee.
For the next hour or so, they sat companionably, enjoying the everyday lives of Tracy, Kevin and their boys. Over the last month, Myka had watched her sister's family grow and shrink again, the clips playing in random order – typical for her disorganised sibling – and she'd been tempted to ask whether movies of her own family existed. In the darkest parts of her imagination, she pictured Helena sneaking off into her basement laboratory to cook up her next diabolical plot, but thoughts like those seemed more ridiculous with each day that passed. Perhaps seeing evidence of their life together would get rid of them entirely. Little did she know that she was about to get an unexpected peek of just that.
Following yet another chaotic birthday for Daniel, the setting suddenly changed to a holiday on the beach and from the off-set it was clear that many more people were involved. As well as the Littlewoods' children, there was Sophie and Jake Lattimer and Christina, Fredrick and Catherine Wells-Bering. And with the children inevitably came their parents.
As the scene began to play, the camera panned along a bright beach to the sound of adults chatting and children laughing in the background. When the image stopped, Helena was the dominant figure on screen. Lying on the sand, her elbows propping her up, she playfully protested while her children bustled around, covering her with sand, and a younger Myka stood at a distance and laughed.
Tracy heard the surprised intake of air from her sister and reached for the remote to press stop. "Sorry," she said hastily as green eyes turned to her in question. "I forgot that one was on there."
"Why'd you turn it off?" Myka asked without thinking. They'd watched several hours of her sister's home-movies by now and, while she hadn't consciously admitted it to herself, she got a thrill out of seeing the occasional glimpse of the inventor. A primal part of her was hungry for more and objected to the interruption; the sight of Helena lying on the beach, laughing, was intoxicating.
"Do you want to watch it?" Tracy asked with that same knowing glance that she'd worn earlier in the afternoon.
Myka hesitated. Yes, she did want to watch it. Almost desperately. But she knew she'd already revealed too much and felt abruptly self-conscious. "No, it's fine. Maybe we should switch it off now."
Reading between the lines, Tracy complied, her fingers finding the button on the remote to turn the TV off. But she deliberately didn't remove the memory stick, hoping that Myka would watch it after she left the following day.
They played cards, shared a bottle of wine, dragged half of the photo albums from the shelves and reminisced, in light-hearted fashion, about the many quarrels and outright fights they'd had as children. Thanks to the remaining portion of Myka's eidetic memory, they managed to recall some of the rainy days when they'd been forced to spend time together and hadn't come to blows.
The following afternoon, when Tracy placed her mug by the sink and grabbed her bag, they both knew what the younger woman's intentions were in leaving the media device behind. It was ludicrous that Myka should have to pretend to be ignorant of her sister's actions, but that was just how she was used to dealing with these emotionally heavy situations. She'd never been good at sharing her feelings, perhaps as a result of her father's stoic manner and her desperation to please him, and the idea of having an audience to her rawest emotions was terrifying, even if it was just her sister.
Once alone in the apartment, the regent waited until after closing time and Jason's usual 'Bye, Myka!' before pouring herself a glass of wine and sitting back down in front of the TV. She stared at the blank screen, sipping at the deep, red liquid in her glass as her free hand played with the remote.
"This is pathetic," she muttered to herself. A thumb brought the screen to life and then hovered over the play button. She sucked in a deep breath. "Here goes nothing…"
Claudia frowned at the report she'd just received from Thomas' team. They'd retraced Megan's westward journey across the states and discovered clues from her at almost every major wayside station. After three or four locker-drops, they'd spread out across the route to look for more and as they did, a disturbing picture emerged.
Now, as the caretaker read the latest, she felt an overwhelming urge to abandon her post and return to the simple life she'd had as an agent… or even as a mental patient. At least then, she hadn't had to make decisions about her friends' lives or expose traitors in their family. She didn't have to toy with keeping secrets that could end with people she loved dying.
This news is gonna kill Steve, she thought as she closed the report and tried to decide what to do next. Recalling the advice Artie had given her about delegating, she quickly realised that whatever plans she made, she could not do so alone. This information affected the whole team and they all needed to know what was happening.
Myka looked across the shop floor and past one or two milling customers to where her two eldest children sat with their heads together. The existing wheelchair access had served them well as Freddy was still unable to use crutches and, since agreeing the arrangement with Helena, Christina picked her siblings up after school on a Friday and brought them to Colorado Springs.
In the evenings, HG had been driving down to take them home again. A three hour round trip that she never complained about and an event that the American found herself increasingly looking forward to. So much so that she'd suggested that the inventor should arrive early to join them for dinner today. All afternoon she'd been clock-watching, waiting for that moment when they would close their doors to the public and make their way to the upstairs apartment. Soon after that, Helena should be there, helping to lay the table and asking the children about their day at school.
It was happening, albeit slowly. More frequently, Myka allowed her anger to fade into the background and let herself enjoy the Brit's presence. She couldn't remember seeing Helena around children, other than the sister of one of the college boys who'd died while attempting to gain entry to Warehouse 2. The memory of that time was never far from her thoughts but seeing Helena with the kids was like seeing a whole new person. Her smiles were full of love and pure enjoyment rather than mischief or dark intent; she was content with most things without itching to be anywhere else, working on any other task; she laughed with ease and could be brought to the verge of tears if one so wished to try. She didn't attempt to make herself appear larger than life and, in a way, this made her all the more appealing.
Myka felt herself thinking more often about their intimate moments together and imagining what it would be like to have that again. She was beginning to think that it wasn't such a bad thing to be irrevocably attracted to her heroine. If she could learn how to accept this reality and live with the past then there was hope for them. Much as she wanted that dream though, doubts continued to linger and she was already planning ways to distract herself for moments when she and Helena might end up alone. Her libido was partially responsible for her blinkered view of their relationship the first time around, and she was determined for that to be different if they started again… when they started again.
She had fallen hard and fast, and no matter how much she'd tried to convince herself that her feelings had been juvenile and therefore false, she knew that loving HG Wells was not something that she could escape or explain away.
"Ma? Is that right?" Catherine asked of her finished work, her voice breaking through her mother's reverie.
Looking down at the eleven-year-old's scrawled handwriting, the brunette nodded. She ruffled the girl's hair into an even more unruly mess and chuckled at the resulting grumble. "You're nearly done, sweetheart. Just check through your spellings and make sure your work is legible. There's nothing worse than putting in lots of effort and then finding out that your teacher can't read it." She smiled at the scrunched expression on the girl's face, stood and kissed the top of Cat's head before leaving her to it. The amused smile remained on her face as disgruntled grumbling followed her over to where Christina and Freddy sat. "Cat's nearly finished. How are you two doing?"
At the sound of her voice, the two occupants at the table jumped and hastily closed the notebook that they'd been hunched over. They glanced guiltily at each other, had some sort of silent communication and then turned overly-innocent gazes on their mother. "Hey, Ma," Christina greeted casually. "Sorry, what did you say?"
Green eyes narrowed with suspicion. "Cat's nearly done. What are you two up to?" Myka asked as she adopted a less relaxed stance and folded her arms over her chest.
"I've finished my report on the American civil war," Freddy answered, hoping futilely that he could distract his Ma from what she'd almost seen. At least, he hoped she'd only 'almost seen' what he and Tina were writing. He was never quite sure how she would react since her return from Australia and he didn't want her to get the wrong idea or make assumptions about their motives.
Myka's eyebrow rose, telling her son in no uncertain terms that she was on to him. "And you both felt the need to hide it from me because…"
Christina took a deep breath and squared her shoulders. She pulled the notebook out from beneath her brother's arm and slipped it into her bag. Before Myka could question her actions, the young adult picked up a ring-binder and held it out across the table. "We're planning a surprise, so you will just have to be patient. Here's Rick's project – if you want to read it?" There was a challenge behind dark eyes that fixed on the regent, unwavering.
Myka clicked her tongue, a smile creeping along her mouth as she rolled her eyes. She snatched the folder playfully and swatted Freddy with it. "Fine. Have your secrets. For now, make yourselves useful and go and get the things we need for dinner." She took her folder back to Cat's table and sank into her chair. She watched from the corner of her eye as the secretive pair put their heads briefly back together and then Christina stood to push her brother towards the apartment stairs.
"That was close," Fredrick whispered as shelves of books passed him by. His sister's hand appeared over his head and pulled the door open in front of him. Reaching for the handrail, he pulled himself up onto his good leg and began the tedious journey of hopping up the stairs. "I thought she might have seen our notes. Enough to guess what we're planning," he continued as he waited at the top of the stairs for Christina to fold, carry and unfold his wheelchair.
He hated the necessity of it. It wasn't even a cool wheelchair that he could practise tricks with. Since he'd started back at school, his friends liked to joke that he was going to end up with one giant, muscly leg. Thankfully, his teachers had rearranged most of the classes that were upstairs to rooms on the ground floor. At school, he suddenly found himself getting lots of attention, even from people he'd never spoken to. The best part of this perk was the moment that Holly Brown had practically thrown herself at him on his first day back. He was sure that his face had been red from thinking of that moment the entire day.
"Do you think it could work?" he wondered aloud as he hobbled around the kitchen and pulled things from cupboards. "Do you think we can get them to spend time alone?"
"I don't think Ma will be a problem, at least, not so far as getting them into the same room, but Mum knows us better; she'll be wise to us if we don't do it right," Christina responded seriously.
They were getting tired of their mothers dancing around each other and after seeing the way the two women looked at each other when they thought they weren't being watched, the twins had decided to help things along. Two well-meaning Cupids to force a reaction from the couple. Preferably not one that involved shouting and further distance; they were both very aware of how easily their 'fix it' plan could end in disaster.
"Maybe we should just tell her. She'd want to help," Freddy suggested, feeling confident in his assumption.
"I've no doubt that she'd want to, Rick, but she won't do anything that might make her appear dishonest or scheming. She knows that that's what Ma fears about them being together again." The young woman paused with a salad bowl in her hand. "She'd tell us to stop or feel obligated to tell Ma what we're planning. I'd rather not put her in that position. Would you?"
Freddy shook his head. "No, definitely not. She's having a hard-enough time of it as it is."
Christina nodded as she slid a head of lettuce and various other green ingredients her brother's way. "What about Cat?" she asked after a thoughtful pause. "Do you think we should tell her?" Fredrick had related his hospital-bed conversation with their sister about everyone's tendency to shield the pre-teen from the evils of the world and, while she didn't want to overexpose her youngest sibling to the realities of their lives either, she understood how the girl was feeling.
"I think we should give her a chance," the teen replied. "They're her parents too and she's just as worried as we are." He nodded to himself as he continued to wonder whether it was a good idea. "We should let her in on the plan."
"Pray tell, which plan might that be?" came a curious, cultivated voice from the doorway as their Victorian mother appeared.
Another, more lilting voice joined in almost immediately, signalling the arrival of their other mother. "See? I told you they were scheming."
The Wells-Bering couple entered the kitchen and circled in opposite directions, their eyes unconsciously meeting with a hint of camaraderie. It was short lived as Myka recalled their situation and sank her gaze to the work surface. She took note of the salad that was half prepared and turned to the cupboard beside her to fish out a skillet for the salmon.
"Well, they got their good looks from you, they had to get something from me," the inventor joked. "What nefarious plan do you two have up your sleeves today?"
Myka didn't see Helena's face when she responded but she couldn't help the surprised smile that crept onto her face at the older regent's words.
While her parents avoided eye contact, both regents teasing and communicating solely through words and tone, Catherine entered, slapped her books down on the table, crossed her arms over her chest and all but stamped her foot. "Are you guys planning something? You always do things without me!"
Taking pity on her sister, Christina offered the girl a cherry-tomato and winked at her. "You're allowed in on the secret, Kitty Cat, but they're not," she added with a sharp gesture of her head.
Freddy chuckled as both regents adopted the same expression of surprise and offence. "So, you'll have to wait." He lowered his voice to a 'whisper' and said, "Covert tree-house meeting at 0700 tomorrow. You in?"
All frustration and annoyance forgotten, the eleven-year-old bounced on the balls of her feet and grinned. "Yeah!"
The young adult laughed at her sister's enthusiasm and congratulated herself and Rick for deciding to include the pre-teen. "We'll need a sentry. Do you think Spyder will be up to it?"
Still looking like the Cheshire Cat, the youngest amongst them fell into a chair and made a show of thinking it over. "I'll have a word with him."
As both parents chuckled, HG removed Catherine's books to the top of the fridge and began to pull cutlery from a drawer. "I think we've been outnumbered," she grumbled playfully.
"Uh-huh," Myka responded as she turned on her son, a spatula pointed at him. "Just how are you planning to get into the treehouse?"
"Easy!" he answered nonchalantly, smugness written all over his face. "Mum's got some pulleys and rope, which she used when she and Uncle Kevin were building the escape tunnel, and all I need is an old sheet to make a giant sling."
"Of which we have a few," Christina chimed in as if they'd spent hours rehearsing this very moment. "I'll climb up tonight and get it all set up."
Myka stared at them for a moment, trying to figure out if they were teasing her again or not. "You had all that worked out already?"
Freddy shrugged, biting back another smug grin. "No. We just thought of it."
Cat, having watched the back and forth with a familiar sense of awe and annoyance, rolled her eyes and grumbled, "They're always doing stuff like that. It's crap!"
"Catherine!" her mothers scolded in surround sound.
The teasing continued all through dinner with Christina smoothly changing the topic to embarrassing childhood memories. They all kept the atmosphere deliberately light, even Catherine picking up on the subtle signals from her siblings and putting on her best game face. It wasn't entirely natural or smooth, but it was done with love and good intention, all believing that it would get easier with patience and time.
As the children left first – Christina carrying her brother's wheelchair back downstairs, Fredrick hopping after her and Catherine following on behind, threatening all the way to jump on his back – Helena stayed behind to say Thank you and farewell to her wife.
She hovered awkwardly in the doorway for several seconds as Myka picked up a dishcloth and, with little else to occupy her suddenly nervous hands, she began to dry the plates that were stacked on the draining board.
"Thank you," the inventor began, hoping that her voice didn't sound as tense as she felt. "For dinner."
Dishcloth in hand, the brunette turned slowly and smiled at the floor. "It was fun," she admitted before her eyes drifted upwards from the Brit's shoes to a penetrating gaze. "Is it always like that… family dinners I mean?"
Helena scoffed, "Goodness, no. They were on their best behaviour tonight. Imagine a pack of coyotes; despite my best intentions, Pete's table manners have made a lasting impression," she explained and smiled at the cute frown that appeared above green eyes before coughing and looking anywhere else. "I think they were trying to impress you."
Myka's frown relaxed and a pleased flush crept along her cheeks. "Really?"
"Yes. I know I've said this before, but I am thankful that you are fighting to spend so much time with them. I am thankful that they're not being punished for my crimes." Realising that she'd brought another layer of awkward back into the room, HG rocked on her soles, ran her hands through her hair and decided that it was past time to leave. Just as she reached the door though, she remembered something. "Oh! We are hosting a soiree two weeks past Saturday, if you would like to join us. It's a tradition we adopted several years ago to celebrate a combination of Thanksgiving, Hanukah and Christmas." Seeing her wife's hesitance, she began to rattle on, letting her words tumble from her mouth without her usual careful forethought. "It's merely an elaborate excuse to get everyone together during the holiday season, but it has proved to be rather successful. Claudia, in her everlasting wisdom, lovingly calls it Thankahmas. Artie always attends under protest and Pete, of course, never misses an occasion to worship at the altar of gluttony."
The younger regent shuffled a little, wondering whether or not she should accept the invite. "Would I need to bring a gift?"
HG smiled softly, her eyes lingering a little too long on the brunette's face. "Just your lovely self… You are gift enough for all of us." With those parting words, she nodded and left to begin her descent towards the shop floor.
I know Myka's being very slow on the uptake, but she's still dealing with her memories of Helena's betrayal. From her perspective, the woman she loves recently used her and almost killed her. Feeling like that don't just disappear. Have faith, people!