A/N: Please don't hate too much after this chapter! I know I am torturing you, but the answers will come in due time! ;-)

Even though the meeting with Max had left me depressed – but also, in some way, happy to be healthy – I was excited about this new piece of information. The fact that Seeley Booth had planned his disappearance easily explained why no one had been able to find them within the first few hours. That now left me to answer the question of what had happened after the kids had run off. I had a few theories that I was impatient to toy with as soon as I got home. I needed access to a computer to verify some things.

Before I left, I asked Max if he remembered the names printed on the fake IDs. He had chuckled and said he would never forget those names: Anthony and Roxanne Ruffalo. With these two names engraved in my memory, I drove home faster than I should have.

My laptop seemed to take for ever to boot up. I was excited to finally have something to go on. While I waited impatiently, I thought about Max. I wondered why he had never told the police about the fake IDs. After all, it would have helped them a lot and maybe put this case to rest.

Eventually, I was able to log into my computer and directly went to Google. I typed in Tony's name first. I scanned the first page without finding anything really valuable. Most led to Friendz Haven pages (I checked – none of the Tony's resembled Seeley Booth) and similar networking pages. It was only when I reached the second page that something caught my attention. I read the information given by the page. I felt my heartbeat increasing with each word. Could this information be true? I typed something into my cellphone. I searched a bit more without finding anything new.

Next, I tried Roxy's name. Again, same results. However, a couple of links down the page, something caught my attention. My heart skipped a beat. I continued searching, reading twice and even three times everything related to Roxanne Ruffalo.

An hour later, I was closing all my browser windows and shutting off my laptop. I stood up and slowly walked to my couch. My entire felt numb. If everything I had learned was true, I had uncovered something potentially big.

I knew it was too late to do much more. Tomorrow morning, I would make some calls. Until then, all I could do was wait.

The night seemed to stretch on forever. Eventually, I did manage to fall asleep. I dreamed my daughter was in a hospital bed, much like Max had been. I was sitting down beside her, talking to her about her mother when she told me Christine Booth would help her and not to worry. Parker appeared, took my granddaughter's hand, and disappeared into a bright, white light. I woke up in cold sweats. It took me a few minutes to realize that it had only been a dream, that my daughter wasn't dying of cancer and that my granddaughter was most likely safe and sound in her bed.

I made myself some breakfast. I was barely hungry, too anxious to continue with the investigation. So many questions ran through my mind to which I didn't have any answers. Yet, things still nagged at me; tiny details that were bothering me. I couldn't quite pinpoint what they were. However, I was sure something was amiss in this story.

After a quick breakfast, a long shower, and a revision of my notes, I grabbed my cellphone and made some calls. The calls were brief and to the point. Within ten minutes, I had managed to get two appointments in the following days. I called Parker to inform him I would be travelling down to North Carolina once again. He didn't question; he simply agreed to the mileage that was quickly adding up to his bill. I also told him I would stop to see Christine and Jackson and inform them on their grandfather's health situation.

I left two days later. The drive to North Carolina was long. It rained most of the drive, my wipers swishing rapidly across my window. I stopped only twice to use the bathroom and grab something to eat. When I reached Asheville, about 10 hours later, the rain had stopped. I eventually made my way through the unfamiliar streets of the city until I reached my first destination.

My first pit stop lasted only thirty minutes. I chitchatted in person with the man whom I had spoken to on the phone. He was less reluctant than earlier to give me the information I was looking for. The two of us sat down at his desk. He handed me papers that I read without really understanding what it meant. He kindly offered to explain it to me. When I left his office, I was slowly beginning to have a clearer picture of what had happened the night Christine and Jackson took off.

My next stop was not too far. Again, the meeting lasted briefly. I was explained a few things before another meeting was arranged for the following week. I would have to make yet again another trip down to North Carolina. This time, I doubted I would be making the trip alone.

After my second stop, I called Christine. I told her I was approximately an hour away. She told me it was okay to stop by. Jackson was on his way and Megan was working until later that night.

When I arrived at her apartment, I felt nervous. Everything I had learned in the past hours rushed through my mind. I knew I worked for Parker. I couldn't technically pass on details of the investigation to Christine. However, knowing what I knew now, I knew I would have difficulty lying if she asked me straightforwardly if anything was new. I had to, but I didn't want to.

She unlocked the door for me. Again, I found her waiting just outside her apartment, this time with her brother by her side. The three of us stepped inside and I closed the door behind us. Christine offered some coffee which I accepted. She asked me how my drive had been. I told her it had been uneventful, except for the rain which had accompanied me all the way to Asheville. She didn't inquire what I was doing in Asheville. I assumed she simply thought I had driven through that city to reach her town.

We took a seat in the living room.

"Was there a particular reason you wanted to meet with us?" Christine asked after we had sat down. "Anything new with the case?"

I took a deep breath in order to calm my racing heart.

"I'm here because I met with your grandfather."

Christine chocked on her sip of coffee. Spills fell on her lap. She immediately wiped it with the sleeve of her shirt. I wasn't sure how that was going to help but I didn't say anything.

"You met him? Where? When? Why?"

She looked frantically at me. Her eyes searched mine for answers to her questions.

"He had some important information regarding the case. I can't say what just yet. I hope you understand."

The two of them nodded.

"I thought important to meet you in person because I'm afraid I have some bad news."

Jackson frowned and Christine's face paled.

"Is he okay?"

"Not really. He's dying…"

Christine let out a squeal as tears filled her eyes and began to pour. Jackson immediately turned to his sister and pulled her to him. She sobbed uncontrollably for a minute or two before she seemed to pull herself together. She pulled away from her brother and turned to me.

"I'm sorry," she said.

"Don't apologize. It's a normal reaction."

She sniffled a few times. Jackson got up and came back a minute later with a box of tissues. Christine thanked him before grabbing one.

"It's just… You think that you've lost your family and then, years later, they all seem to be coming back to you, one by one. I thought my grandfather had died long ago. I thought that was why none of our relatives had been found."

I could just begin to image how Christine must have been feeling that day. She had quickly pulled herself together and was soon her regular self. I told her about Max's conditions and his desire to see them both before he died. The two Booth children agreed to make the trip back to Washington, DC that same week. I offered to drive them back with me. Christine told me she would need to make some arrangements but would probably be able to take the weekend off from work. This suited me. I would be able to bring them back to North Carolina before heading back to Asheville for my meeting.

While I was in North Carolina, I decided to visit some friends I hadn't seen in a long time. Christine called me a day later to tell me everything was arranged and she would be good to go on Friday. It was arranged that I would meet them both on campus and would drive from there.

The rest of the week simply flew by. It felt good to take my mind off the case for a while, even though I didn't completely stop thinking about it. Soon enough, I was back in Cullowhee. Christine and Jackson were waiting for me in the campus parking lot, bags at their feet. I helped them load everything in my trunk and we set off. Christine offered to drive later on. I told her to relax and simply enjoy the ride.

"I've never been outside of North Carolina and Florida before."

As though realizing her mistake, she immediately added:

"In my new life, that is."

I nodded, understanding what she meant.

We spent the next 10 hours – we stopped for food twice – talking about her life in Florida. She told me more about her adoptive parents, things she had left out the last time we had spoken. She also told me more about her studies and what she was planning to do next. Jackson spoke little. He answered my questions but didn't offer any more information unless asked. Christine told me her brother had never been one to talk much. As a child, he preferred yelling and running everywhere. That comment made me smile.

It was early evening when we finally reached the outskirts of Washington, DC. As we drove closer, Christine went quieter and quieter. It was only when we entered the city that she spoke.

"Feels strange to be here."

Jackson, sitting in the backseat, nodded.

"I mean, I know I used to live here but nothing seems familiar."

"You were quite young when you left."

She nodded.

"Where are you bringing us exactly?" she asked me.

I had already told her she would be meeting her brother but I hadn't told her much more. Since she hadn't inquired about it either, I hadn't given her the rest of the information.

"Let's just say a lot of people are anxious to meet you," I answered. "We thought it best if you met everyone at Angela's. Do you remember her?"

Christine quickly nodded, a smile stretching across her lips.

"Of course I remember her! She's Michael's mom. She was always so nice to me when I was young. I don't remember her much but… I remember that she painted. Actually, she painted one of the pictures in my room. It was a painting of me and my mom sitting in a park."

I mentally scanned Christine's bedroom. I didn't remember the painting in question. It was possible that it had been taken down by Parker or someone else during the investigation and not put back into place. I kept that fact to myself.

Twenty minutes later, we were pulling up Angela's driveway. Christine had completely grown quiet and even Jackson had taken the headphones out of his ears. Both stared at the mansion before them.

"I don't remember them living here."

"They've moved, I think," I replied.

I parked the car beside the front door, much like I had done the last time. I turned to Christine.

"Are you ready to see everyone?"

The two siblings exchanged glances.

"Yes. We are."