"I could go in with you."

We've been sitting outside Rose's house for over thirty minutes now.

It amazed me that less than an hour ago, she'd been a little better, better than how I was use to seeing her. She'd even smiled and laughed a little despite the intensity of today. It was a pleasant sight, seeing her seemingly normal for a few hours.

I knew that going to the park would only prolong the inevitable for her to face her mother and that her few seconds of normal couldn't last forever but I really wish it could. No one this young should have to go through something like this. I was still having trouble accepting my sister's role in all of this.

The second we reached the sign marking our way into town, Rose's mood obviously shifted and we were quiet. Her bit of fun was over. Now it was back to normal, back to the real world.

She was staring at her house, even though there didn't look to be anyone home, as if debating whether to even get out of the car and go in. Or maybe she was wishing the house could disappear altogether and she wouldn't have to face any of this. It's what I would do. If I was in Rose's shoes, at her age, I'd wish myself away and not face any of this.

It's kind of why I'm still so amazed and impressed that she's going through with this, building a case against Adrian Ivashkov and his 'accomplices' as Stan called them. I'm still expecting her to change her mind, to bolt and run. I know she won't though. I can't explain it but I know she'll stick around and see this through.

She's made it this far.

By this point, I think she'll be willing to fight anything anyone throws at her. And whatever she can't handle, I'll be there to encourage her.

I guess I feel a little guilty for everything terrible that's going on.

I've been playing the 'what if' game in my head. What if I'd been around more for Victoria to talk to? What if I'd been able to change her mind about ever dating-something, as an overprotective brother, I'd never approved of at her young age? What if something so small as sitting down and talking with my sister- instead wallowing and trying to deal with my own grief about Ivan and not being a cop anymore-I might have been able to prevent this situation from becoming as bad as it is?

I guess I'll never know.

I can only help where I can and hope for the best.

"I want you to," Rose finally speaks, referring to my earlier offer. "I think...I think it's better if I do this alone."

"Don't forget you can call me if you need to talk," I remind her.

My biggest fear isn't that she'll runaway but that she'll hold on to the feeling that she's alone and all of this will crush her, break her to the point beyond broken, when I could have done something to let her know I'm here.

I want her to be certain, without a doubt in her mind, to know I'm here for her.

She turns away from the window at last and musters up the best smile she can manage. "Thank you, Dimitri. I can't even..." her voice trails off.

"Don't worry about it. Just call me when you can to let me know how everything went."

She nods, blinking a few times like she's ready to cry again. Just as I'm about to hand her the hundredth tissue of the day, a car screeches down the street and pulls quickly into the driveway and the woman I assume to be her mother hastily climbs out. She glances at my car sitting at the curb and does a double take as she realizes Rose is sitting inside.

She walks hesitantly toward us just as Rose opens the door to climb out. I climb out and go around to her side to help her, remembering her ankle.

Her mother, an extremely short woman with a mane of wild red curls, slows to a stop not too far away from us as I help Rose out of the car. Rose looks stunned silent. She looks like she hadn't expected her mother home so soon and any idea of what she was going to say to her has faded from her mind.

"Rose, what's going on?" she asks breathless as if she'd been in a hurry to get home. "I get a call from your school about pictures and a possible expulsion. I've been trying to find you all day. No one knew where you were and I don't have your cell phone number. Where have you been?"

Her mother is speaking slowly and the entire time she's looking at me instead of her daughter as if hoping that my being there will answer al of her questions.

Rose opens and shuts her mouth to speak. She hesitates, probably not sure where to even begin.

I keep one hand on Rose because I honestly think that if I let go, she'll fall over. With my other hand, I extend it to her mother politely.

"I'm Dimitri, Rose's-"

"The self defense instructor," her mother interrupts slowly.

"Yes."

There's this awkward moment where she's simply looking me over as if my answer isn't enough of a reply, or trying to discern if I'm a threat to her daughter, before she takes my hand and gives it a slow shake before folding her arms across her chest. She finally turns her green eyed gaze to Rose.

"What's going on?"

Rose blinks a few times before answering. "We need to talk...inside."

For a moment, it looks like her mother doesn't want to go inside, she wants answers right here, right now but then she glances at me, remembering I'm there, and nods.

"Okay, let's go."

Her eyes flick down to where my hand is still around Rose's hip and then she slowly turns away to open the front door, glancing back a few times to make sure Rose is going to follow.

Rose takes a deep breath beside me.

"You can do this. It'll be fine. She might be a little surprised by all of this at first but just give her some time," I advise, hoping my mother will do the same when she finds out what Victoria did. "Remember she's your mother and she loves you."

Rose is looking at me like she wants more than anything to believe those words as much it must seem like I do. She also looks like she's debating on whether or not to climb back in my car and tell me to drive.

Ultimately, after several long moments, her dark brown eyes flick to where her mother is standing in the doorway waiting.

"I can do this," she whispers to herself.

She pats the back of my hand that's at her waist gently to let me know that I can let go and takes my other hand to give it a quick squeeze, whether to thank me again or to absorb a bit of whatever courage she thinks I have, I don't know.

Her soft her hand holds on for a few seconds longer as she closes her eyes, takes a few slow breaths, before letting go.