"Hello?" Lizzie answered her phone as she murmured her thanks to the barista and took her drink.

"Hello Elizabeth."

"Dembe! What's up?" She took a sip of her coffee, humming when it was still too hot.

"I cannot come to visit as I promised. Something has come up."

Lizzie paused in the middle of the sidewalk. "Is everything alright? Is Dad—"

"He is fine, Elizabeth. We're fine. I just…I have to visit someone."

Lizzie immediately knew something was up. Dembe always thought about what he was going to say before he said it. He was always succinct and never paused, never stuttered. She proceeded to walk the rest of the way to the precinct, though she slowed her gait.

"Fess up, Dembe. You're lying. Or hiding something. Who are you visiting? Who is more important than your sister?" She teased.

There was a pregnant pause before he finally spoke. "I do not wish to speak of this over the phone."

"Well too bad. Spill."

Dembe sighed. Lizzie could imagine him rubbing his hand over his bald head in frustration.

"I am going to visit my daughter. She isn't feeling well. She's got the flu, asked me to go see her."

Lizzie stopped in the middle of the sidewalk again before leaning against the nearest building, hoping it would hold her up. She wasn't sure how long she'd been silent but she supposed it was long enough for Dembe to begin calling her name over the line.

"You have a daughter and you didn't tell me? A daughter old enough to ask for you to visit? How old is she? Where does she live? Why the hell did I have to beat the fact that I'm an aunt out of you?" As she fired off questions, her voice became progressively louder until people began to look at her askance.

"This is why I did not wish to speak over the phone."

"Answer my questions Dembe."

"She is twelve. Her name is Isabella. She lives in New York with her mother."

Lizzie took a moment to digest the fact that her brother had a baby while a freshman at college. A baby. Her niece.

"And my last question? Why didn't you tell me?"

"You're not going to like this."

"Tell me."

He paused again, gathering his thoughts. "Elizabeth, you must understand. You are a weakness for Raymond and I. We will do anything to protect you. To keep our connection – especially Raymond's – to you, hidden. The same now applies to Isabella."

"How the hell does that translate to me not knowing about her?"

"Because you cannot deny that which you did not know existed."

Lizzie huffed and kicked the wall in frustration. "Spell it out for me, Dembe. I'm not understanding."

"Elizabeth, the more time that goes on, the more likely someone will find our connection to you. We do everything we can to protect you but you know as well as we do that Raymond is a dangerous man. That there are dangerous people who wish him harm. If they find out about you, Elizabeth, they will take you. They will torture you and send evidence to your father."

Lizzie bit her lip until she tasted blood as tears began to stream down her face. Her Dad, Pop, and Dembe had always shielded her from the realities of what Red and Dembe did. Even though she had learned in college about it, they had been so damn good at keeping her in a bubble that she had never thought about what it would mean for her. How could she have been so naïve?

She was sure that she was going to have a rather large freak out later about the idea of being tortured, but for now, she swallowed her tears and her chin jutted out in determination.

"Elizabeth, we will protect you. You are protected. I promise you."

"Ok, well this still doesn't explain why I didn't know about Isabella."

"If you were captured, Elizabeth, they would not just torture you to hurt your father. They will torture you for information. Information about his business. His weaknesses."

It finally clicked. She understood. He was just protecting his daughter. She could respect that. It hurt like hell, but she could respect it.

"Fine. I want to meet her."

"Elizabeth—"

"No! I know about her now. It's too late. I want to meet her."

/\/\/\/\/\

"Isabella, I want you to meet someone." Lizzie sat in the living room of the girl's home and could hear Dembe speaking to her in the hallway. She fidgeted, rubbing her scar underneath her jacket sleeve. As they walked in, Lizzie smiled nervously, standing up from the couch.

"Hello. I'm your Aunt Lizzie."

"Hi." The adorable little light skinned girl with curly brown hair looked from her dad to Lizzie, a look of confusion on her face as she mumbled her greeting. Dembe and Lizzie looked at each other, guessing at her confusion.

"We were both adopted by the same man. Your grandpa Sam."

Isabella nodded her head in apparent understanding. "Will I ever meet him?"

Dembe and Lizzie glanced at each other once more, their faces grim as they both knew how unlikely that'd be.

"Maybe someday." Dembe finally answered.

/\/\/\/\

After a few hours together, Isabella had warmed up to her new aunt and they had gotten to know each other quite well. Halfway through the evening, Isabella's mom came home from running errands and after some quick hello's left the three of them to themselves in the living room.

It was getting late but Isabella refused to go get ready for bed until she obtained a promise from her aunt to visit again soon. Lizzie readily agreed.

Once Dembe had made sure Isabella was tucked in, he went to say goodbye to her mother before both he and Lizzie left to go to her place.

"Dembe, she's beautiful. I'm so happy for you." She grinned up at her brother as they walked to a busier street, where they could get a cab. Dembe nodded in acceptance, a grin of his own stretched across his face.

"I mean, I'm still pissed at you. I can't believe you have a daughter, living in the same city as me, but I never knew! But I get it. You need to protect her." Once again, Dembe merely nodded.

"Has Dad ever met her?"

"No. He cannot. It isn't safe. They believe I am the bodyguard of a very private, extremely wealthy business man and that I moonlight as his translator when necessary."

"Well… that's not wrong." They both chuckled darkly.

"You well know that your father speaks several languages and doesn't need me for that."

"Trust me, I know. I remember too many visits where you guys traded secrets right in front of me and I couldn't understand a damn thing. And I could barely pass my Spanish classes." She was only slightly bitter.

Dembe chuckled, prompting Lizzie to smack him on the arm lightly.

"So tell me, Elizabeth. How are you? You haven't called Raymond or I for a chat in a few weeks. We usually barely go a day without you speaking to at least one of us."

Lizzie winced, she'd been hoping she could avoid talking about her life right now.

"Yea, it's been a bit crazy with work and everything. I got that promotion. I think I'm now the resident bitch. Everyone calls me 'sir.'" Lizzie winced at her inadvertent new role at work. But she wouldn't change it. In her job, one little misstep – say the wrong thing to someone who's already on the edge and it could cost lives.

Dembe nodded thoughtfully before speaking. "And what does this 'everything' entail?"

Lizzie sighed, having really hoped he wouldn't pick up on that. She held up her empty hand and noticed Dembe's eyes widen. He was probably shocked he hadn't noticed before.

"I messed everything up, Dembe. Nick moved out a couple weeks ago."

"Elizabeth." The way he said her name sounded so sympathetic, she could barely stand it. "What happened?"

"I cheated on him. With a guy I recently met – a friend. Well, not-so-friend anymore. We're kind of dating." Lizzie groaned, running her fingers through her hair. "God, that sounds so awful. My fiancé calls everything off because I cheated and I stay with the guy I cheated with. It should have been a one-time thing but… I don't know."

"Do you love this new man?"

Lizzie snorted at this. "Dembe, I've only known him a couple months. I've only been…dating him for a couple weeks. It's a bit early for that." She bit her lip as she looked into the middle distance. "There's something about him though. Like everyday is an adventure. He just makes everything so fun and… light."

"If you like him, you should not feel guilty for staying with him."

Lizzie shrugged her shoulders. "I don't know, I think I mostly feel guilty about Nick. I loved him. I did. At some point, anyway. But then I didn't. Yet he still loved me. And I feel terrible for that."

Dembe wrapped an arm around her shoulders in comfort, which Lizzie eagerly soaked up, leaning against him as they walked.

"Do I get to know this new gentleman's name?"

"Promise not to tell Dad?"

"Of course." Dembe chuckled.

"Tom. His name is Tom."