Thank you all so much for reading, and a special thank you for those that reviewed. Your kind words kept me motivated to continue. This was my first story and I'm a little sad it's almost over (one chapter after this one left). I hope you've enjoyed it.

Arnold saw Phoebe going to her locker before class started. Catching up to her he tapped her shoulder and she turned around a little startled. "Arnold!"

She took a minute to look over her old friend. He looked miserable. His eyes were bloodshot and his sunken in. Dark circles and bags were underneath them making it obvious he needed to sleep. Her concern for Helga grew tenfold when looking at Arnold. She could tell when things were getting worse because he looked worse. It was even affecting his grades. She watched him fidget with his books before putting her hand on his shoulder. "When's the last time you slept Arnold? I must say, I'm very worried about you. Making yourself sick isn't going to make Helga any better."

She saw his gaze shift as the jittery boy kept pushing his hair out of his eyes. "That's what I wanted to talk to you about. How was your last visit with her?" Because of the ban Mr. Pataki placed on Arnold, the only way he was able to find out about her progress was through Phoebe or her nurse. Lately the nurse had been skittish to reveal information, which made the blonde haired teen nervous. His only source was Phoebe who was able to see Helga whenever she pleased. Arnold was happy knowing Helga had Phoebe when he couldn't be there.

She sighed. She knew she wasn't getting through to him. There was no way Arnold was going to think about himself while Helga was in the hospital. "Well her doctor said she's doing the same. She had some involuntary muscle movements but no big change to report."

He drew a deep breath, trying to hide his disappointment. "I'm telling you she smiled at me last night. I read her a poem and she smiled. She's going to be okay Phoebe, I just know it."

She smiled at him, his words producing more sorrow than optimism. "I hope you're right Arnold."

Watching him walk away she opened her locker when she heard Gerald calling her.

"I'm really worried about him Gerald."

He offered her a sad smile, unsure of how to comfort her. They were barely friends now, both focused on other people. But he still cared for her, he was pretty sure he always would. "Yeah me too. This is the anniversary of when he found out about his parents. It's going to be a rough day."

She shook her head looking at the shell of Arnold meander down the hallways looking lost. "For the first time I don't think it's because of them. In fact he hasn't mentioned his parents at all."

Arnold had no idea why he was in school. It didn't matter, nothing did. He knew he should be feeling something about today but he couldn't bring himself to care. Staring at the date on his calendar proved what the day signified. He felt horrible he could forget. It was the day his search for his parents ended. It was the day he realized why they never came back to find him. It was the day the girl he thought hated him showed him immeasurable kindness and compassion. Helga was usually there with him, just like she was when he found out. She was the only reason he ever found out.

FLASHBACK—

It was a cold rainy April afternoon and 14-year-old Arnold was inside playing dominoes with the boarders. He liked quiet times like this where no one was yelling, and his grandmother was lucid. He was just about to grab some snacks from the kitchen when he heard a knock on the back door. Rising to get it he opened the door seeing a soaked and shivering Helga Pataki clutching something shiny he couldn't quite make out close to her chest. Her eyes were big glassy and bloodshot, he saw the unmistakable tracks of tears on his cheek and instantly knew whatever she was going to say was bad, really bad. "Helga, what's wrong?"

She bit her bottom lip which was trembling from her stopping the tears. How could she find the strength to do this? Shaking her head slightly she asked to speak to him in private.

He nodded as worry crept in and wordlessly led her to hisroom. She wanted him to find his parents, to finally get the happy ending he deserved. Unfortunately, she had to be the bearer of bad news, hurting the only thing in her world worth protecting. Stepping away from him she held the metal object up so he could see what it was. Hands shaking she kept her grip tight on the urn. "Arnold, I'm so sorry." She placed it in his hands and he read the description.

"No. This can't be real. How-how can you think this is real?" He placed the urn with his mother's remains on his bookshelf, his hands felt like they were on fire holding it. He couldn't tear his eyes away from her final resting place.

She looked down fiddling with her wet hoodie. "I've been trying to find them for years. I know how much they mean to you. I just wanted you to be happy." She whispered the last part, hoping he wouldn't be able to pick up what she wasn't saying. She didn't mention that she called in some favors and blackmailed some of her father's questionable contacts for information. Nor did she discuss saving up funds every day since their failed jungle trip because she couldn't bear to see his disappointed face again. She certainly wasn't going to tell him about the countless hours and elaborate letters sent to US delegates and senators pleading for assistance in finding the Shortmans.

He was equal parts devastated and honored, his mind reeling from this recent development. This girl that he hardly spoke to had been looking for his parents? For years? Why? His mom was dead? He would never get to spend time with her? And what about his father? He didn't know how to feel.

"How did you find her?"

She kept details minimal. She couldn't tell him how her body was burnt beyond recognition, taking the police several years to identify her remains or how their captors raped her before stripping her naked and dousing her with gasoline, lighting her on fire. She could barely stand knowing that, but sharing that with Arnold was inconceivable. She wanted to spare him from further heartache.

"Is this true," he asked more out of desperation than anger. He needed it to be a lie.

Helga rolled her eyes and tried to scowl. She wanted to distract him, wanted him to hate her. Anything would be better than him hating his self. Looking into his defeated eyes, she could tell she already lost that battle. She elected to comfort him instead. She wouldn't say anything, she would just be near him in case he wanted to say something.

"I wish I could take this away for you. I wish I could bring them back." Reaching into her hoddie pocket she pulled out a tattered paper and handed it to Arnold. "They found this near her body.

He looked at the note, which was a little weathered and charred, numbly opening it. Taking a deep breath he opened his eyes and read the loopy, obviously rushed script.

My precious little boy,

If you're reading this, it means I failed. All I ever wanted to do was to get back to you, but it seems that won't be happening. They've already captured your father. He was beheaded at dawn. I had to watch the love of my life die but luckily I escaped. I want you to know I drew my last breath working on getting back to you. You need to know your father loved you more than anything in this world. Nothing hurts me more than knowing I won't get to see the amazing person you will become. Never forget to do good, to bring about positive change in this world. Always remember that your father and I love you to the moon and back. If distance couldn't take that away, death never will.

All my love,

Mom

His eyes watered and he fell to the floor, his body too heavy to support the weight of his heartbreak. He held a hand to his chest trying to keep his heart encased in his body. He was broken. This was confirmation of all of his fears. His parents were gone, forever and he would remain an orphan. He often romanticized their return, and now he knew without a shadow of a doubt, they were gone.

She held back a whimper as she listened to him let out a soul-crushing scream before sobs racked his body. His heart was breaking, she could feel it because hers was starting to separate as well. Sitting next to him she held the trembling boy, his head falling on her lap and her hands running through his hair soothingly. They woke up hours later emotionally exhausted, but in each other's arms.

That started their tradition of spending the day together. Last year they rented out a boat and spent the day lazing around on the lake. Two years ago they spent the day in Helga's room under a blanket fort they created and watched movies. They could say the meanest, most hateful things to each other 364 days out of the year, but that day, that hallowed day, they always spent with each other, holding themselves together.

END OF FLASHBACK

"Hey Helga." He smiled softly at her, pulling his chair over to greet her. "How are you today?" He wanted to spend all day with her. It was their tradition, but he didn't want to cause any trouble with her father. He had to settle with 30 minutes, 8:30-9:00PM, just before visiting hours were over. Instead of reading a poem, he talked to her. Talked to her about his dreams, about their future. He told her he wished she would read him one of her poems. He wished for her happiness, and he wished she knew she would always be loved. He also wished more than anything that she would wake up and come back to him.

Helga looked around jittery, aware of things she never noticed before. Green meadows turned black and barren. Plump birds fell from decaying trees, emaciated. Those once enchanting colors dulled, those once melodious sounds dissipated. The birds chirping seemed sweet at first but was slowly becoming annoying and dissonant. All of a sudden the breeze wasn't so gentle, all of a sudden she felt cold.

She could deal with it, she rationalized, as long as he was there. And he was. He never left her side.

For the first time since she got there it started to rain. Helga flinched as the slight drizzle turned into a downpour. This Arnold didn't come prepared with an umbrella. This Arnold looked downright petrified of what the rain could reveal.

Arnold held her closer now but instead of feeling secure, she felt terrified. His vice-like grip was telling her something was off. She pulled her arm back and noticed something else—this wasn't Arnold at all. The rain caused his mask to crumble, his disguise to melt slightly. If one weren't paying attention one would assume this stranger was Arnold Shortman but looking closer, anyone could see the differences. His eyes were duller, his words harsher. And when the rain began washing away the makeup that made faux Arnold look like his counterpart, Helga had an awful feeling that this imposter didn't have her best interests at heart. In fact she realized he was designed to keep her away from heart's desire.

She stepped away from him slowly, cautiously and turned toward the bright light that was beckoning her to safety. She was almost there—she could feel its radiance coating her, protecting her somehow. The warmth it gave off calmed her and she went towards it first slowly and then her pace quickened the closer she got to it. She was reaching for it, almost there when she felt something grip her ankle and tug her away from the light. Falling she turned to find faux Arnold grabbing her ankle and dragging her back. "I'm sorry love, I can't let you leave." She kicked and screamed, tried to wriggle from his grip but he was too strong and she couldn't fight him. He ended up yanking her back as bits of earth in her nails showed evidence of her struggle.

Her eyes fluttered open and she gasped. "Arnold?" She looked at him before falling back into unconsciousness. "Helga," he called out holding her closely. "Helga!" he screamed frantically, hoping she'd open her eyes again. Arnold didn't know what to do. In that one moment when she looked right at him, all was right in his world. "Please come back to me." It was beyond cruel that she was gone, slipped right through his fingers again. The nurse told him it was an involuntary movement, and she had to report this visit to Helga's parents since the doctor had to be called in. She warned the startled boy that Helga's parents were on their way and it was best to leave. Kissing Helga's cheek he ran off, promising to see her again tomorrow.

Last night was the most restful night's sleep he had in a long time. He knew that was no involuntary movement. He knew she heard him and she was on her way back. Checking his phone for messages he went downstairs to make the boarders breakfast. This was going to be a good day. He could feel it in his bones.

Hearing a knock on his door washed that good feeling away.

"Phoebe?" She stood at the door, eyes red rimmed and bloodshot, looking like Helga did a few years ago when she delivered the news about his parents. He knew it was bad. Phoebe never cried and she should have been at the hospital with Helga. If she wasn't there something horrible must have made him seek her out.

"What happened," he asked dreading the answer.

"It's Helga. She's getting worse and Mr. Pataki is thinking about pulling the plug."