Christian's black Porsche pulled up in front of Amy's residence. He put the vehicle in park and shut off the engine with a deep sigh. Turning his head, he looked intently at the anxious girl on the opposite side of the car. "Are you sure you don't want me to come in?"

Amy took in a deep breath, trying mercilessly to calm her pounding heart. She met his gaze, gently shaking her head. "No. No, this is something that I have to do on my own. I'm just..." She exhaled sharply, "I can do this by myself. I'll be fine." Bringing one of her hands up, she tucked a few loose strands of hair behind her ear. Although she had said the words, she wasn't so sure that she would be able to hold herself together. She didn't even want to be there as it was, but she knew she would have to come and get the rest of her stuff sooner or later.

Earlier that day, she and Christian had gone apartment hunting around her area of town, but Amy hadn't found anything she liked. They had toured a few apartment complexes, and even a couple more near the McNamara/Troy offices, but she consistently found them to be lacking something or other. They were either too big or not big enough. She also nit-picked about the layout of the apartment, the amenities, and even the location. Nothing seemed to interest her, and by about the third trip they'd made, she could tell that her lack of decisiveness was slightly irritating Christian in the process. To be honest, she never thought she'd get the chance to move-out, and now that she had, it was up to her to decide on a suitable residence for a nineteen year old.

Once they had made the final trip out to a high-priced, eighteen-floor complex a few miles away from McNamara/Troy, she came to a conclusion and decided what she really wanted most of all. She wanted to be closer to him. Christian didn't have a problem with it. In fact, he agreed that it was a good idea. Unfortunetly, the only way to get her an apartment in his building was to pull some strings. Amy was hesitant about the idea, but Christian insisted that she allow him to negotiate with his neighbors. The short, pudgy, nearly bald, and recently divorced man that lived in the apartment on his left wouldn't hear of moving out, but with a few cautious and clever choice of words, he convinced the man to see otherwise in the only way he could. Offering him plastic surgery...pro bono.

Amy would need to stay at Christian's for at least another few days, giving his neighbor enough time to pack up his things and move-out. Although she had packed up a lot of stuff from home before she'd arrived the night before, it would only last her so long and if she was going to move-out of her house for good, she'd need the rest of her stuff. That was the reason why Christian had brought her back to her mother's house.

It took all of the strength inside her to exit his car and start up towards the front door, cardboard boxes of various sizes clutched under her left arm. A chill danced down her spine as the cold night air swept over her petite frame. The wind howled through the leaves of the oak trees surrounding the large cream-colored villa. Only a few feet away from the front door, her feet came to a halt. She didn't have such a good feeling about this anymore. She turned back around, prepared to return to Christian when she noticed he was still watching her. Noticing the expectant way he arched his brows, she knew it was too late to back out now. Giving him a nod of regard, she took in a deep and calming breath before turning back around, turning her key into the keyhole to unlock the door and stepping inside the house.

An allieviated sigh escaped her, realizing that neither her mother nor Chris was downstairs when she entered. For a minute, she thought she had the whole house to herself, but then she realized that her mother's car had still been in the driveway and Chris' wasn't. The thought occured to her that maybe her mother had gone somewhere with Chris in his car. As she climbed the stairs up to the second floor, all hope died away when she heard the television echoing down the hall. Shit. Exhaling sharply, she crept towards her bedroom. Maybe if she was as quiet as a mouse, her mother wouldn't know she'd even been there. She stole a glance in the direction of her mother's bedroom, swallowing the huge lump in her throat when she noticed the woman was laying on her bed watching television. Amy wondered if she could pass by quick enough so that Teresa wouldn't notice. Saying a silent prayer in her head, she crept by, keeping her eyes on the woman for the five seconds it took to pass by.

Not waiting to hear if her mother noticed her, she slipped quietly inside her bedroom, closing the door behind her, but not entirely. She closed the door just enough for it to touch the doorframe, but not actually be open. A soft sigh escaped her, scurrying towards her bed and placing the boxes down on it. Reaching down, she turned on the small lamp beside her bed before beginning to pack up more of her things. She pulled open each one of her dresser drawers, gradually emptying them out and placing her clothes inside the open boxes on her bed. Once that was done, she had used up two and a half boxes already. She didn't know how she was going to get all this stuff out to Christian's car on her own. Suddenly she was wishing she had let him come in with her afterall. However, she couldn't run the risk that her mother would see him and demand to know the truth.

She crossed the room to her walk-in closet, opening the door and stepping inside. Not bothering to take the hangers off the clothes, she gathered them up into her arms and dropped them onto her bed, cringing when the hangers made an audible clatter against the cardboard boxes she'd set down. "Shit," she murmured to herself. Her muscles tensed up, her eyes shifting towards her closed door and praying that she hadn't blown her cover. She listened for a moment, waiting to hear her mother call out to her.

Nothing.

All she heard was the faint sound of the television from across the hall. She began working quietly but quickly as she rid the clothes of the hangers and placed them into the already half-full box. Opening up another box, she moved back to her chest of drawers and began gathering up her knick-knacks, cosmetics, a few stuffed animals, and picture frames, among other things. She placed them down in the box as quietly as she could, but it didn't seem to be working. Everytime she put something new inside of the box, the objects would clatter together.

"Amy? Amy, are you in there?"

She cringed at the sound of her mother's voice. No, this couldn't be happening. No! It had to be entirely in her mind. She was hearing things. She hadn't actually been so careless as to alert the woman that she was here. The moment she saw the door open, her hopes of making a quick escape shattered.

Teresa's brows arched in surprise, a warm smile crossing her face. "You came back. I knew you'd come to your senses sooner..." The woman's voice trailed off as she noticed the array of boxes on her daughter's bed. Her gaze instantly turned cold, planting her hands firmly on her hips. Her brows furrowing inquisitively, stepping further into the room and towards the bed. "What are you doing? Why are there boxes on your bed? Where do you think you're going?" She looked intently at Amy, waiting for an answer.

Amy sighed wearily, returning her mother's cold gaze. "Mom, I have nothing to say to you. I didn't come back so that you could give me the third degree again. I told you I was leaving and I am. I just came back to get the rest of my stuff." She finished placing the rest of her things in the box. Stepping towards her CD tower, she retrieved the rest of her CDs and placed them cautiously into the same box.

"And just where are you going to stay? Do you think this Kimberly friend of yours is going to just let you move-in with her? Amy, you are still my daughter, and I will not authorize you to move-in with someone until I say otherwise. I haven't even met this Kimberly friend of yours or her father! Do you really think I'm going to let you go off with people I don't even know? Do you!"

She felt her emotions rising to the surface, but she would not allow them to take over. Not again. She wasn't going to appear vunerable to her mother. That would only mean that she had won. As Christian had said, she was already an adult and fully capable of starting a new life somewhere else. She had to be strong, and she had to be mature about this situation. Despite how difficult it had been to leave the night before, she had to stand her ground and show her mother that she was no longer in control of her. After all, she wasn't really her mother to begin with. Instead of replying to her mother, she simply went about the task at hand and continued packing up her stuff.

"Damn it Amy, answer me!"

Amy shook her head in disbelief, tossing a few teddy bears into a box and then grabbing a few throw pillows to add to it. "I don't want to talk about this anymore! I'm moving-out, okay? I'm old enough to make my own decisions now. God! You'd think after last night, you would have thought about what I'd said and come to realize that I'm not a little kid anymore!" As much as she tried to hold it together, a single tear still managed to escape the corner of her eye.

"You may not be a little kid anymore, but you don't have the money to support yourself. You don't even have a job Amy! Who's going to support you now, huh? That Christian man? You aren't even his daughter. Do you really think he's going to put out the money to support you?"

She froze at the words "you aren't even his daughter." Just as it had the previous night, she found her heart constricting in her chest. As much of a fact as the words were, they felt like a stab to the heart coming from her mother.

If only she knew.

She sighed woefully, bringing one of her hands up to brush away the tear that had rolled down her cheek. Whirling around on her heels, she crossed her arms firmly over her chest, fixing her eyes on her mother. She didn't know what compelled her to do it, but suddenly, the words came spilling out of her mouth. "Yeah, believe or not, he will, and I am going to get a job. He's going to get me one. He's going to support me, he's going to buy me my own place, and he's going to love me the way a real parent should love their daughter. Believe or not, he's going to do a lot for me because that's how much he loves me."

For a long moment, Teresa didn't say a word. Then, Amy noticed that her large brown eyes were beginning to well up in tears. "And how can you be so sure that he's going to do all this for you? Has he told you this or are you just assuming he will?"

Amy exhaled sharply with a groan. "Ugh! Mom! Are you even listening to anything I say? No, wait, I forgot, you never listen. He loves me, and yes, he told me all this! Why the hell do you think I'm here packing up my shit? He already found me a place to live and I'm moving-in." She turned away from her mother, suddenly feeling a bit of guilt weighing on her shoulders when she saw the tears in Teresa's eyes. After retrieving the rest of her books from her bookshelf, and her cordless phone from her nightstand, she loaded the items inside the last box and stared at the boxes full of her belongings that sat on her bed. There was no way she was going to get all five of these boxes out to Christian's car on her own, and she didn't have any faith that her mother would help her in doing so.

Teresa shook her head firmly as Amy grabbed one of the heavier boxes and struggled to lift it. "Oh no! No, no, no, no! You are not moving anywhere until I meet this man. I want to meet him Amy! Do you hear me? I don't care what you have to do to get a hold of Kimberly, but I'm not letting you leave this house again until it happens."

Oh God, not this again. Amy thought to herself with an irritable sigh. Giving up on lifting the heavier box, she picked up the box full of her knick-knacks, CDs, and DVDs and strode towards her door. Once again, her mother took it upon herself to block her path and looked to be planting herself there with no intention of moving. Amy clenched her teeth together, glaring coldly at her mother. "Mom! Get the hell out of my way!"

"No!"

"This is my fucking room and it's still my house! I can go wherever the fuck I want! Get out of my way!" Amy screamed, so loud that she was sure Christian would hear it.

"Well if it's still your house then why are you so anxious to move out of it?"

With a furious growl, she manuevered her way past her mother, bumping her out of the way with her hip and struggling with the doorknob. Balancing the box on her hip for a minute and holding it with one arm, she got the door open and scurried out of the room before her mother could stop her. She ignored Teresa's demands for her to come back as she descended the stairs to the ground floor. Once again, she used the same manuever to get the front door open. She stole a glance back at her mother to see the woman dashing after her. Luckily, her mother was only half-way down the stairs when she stepped out into the evening breeze, and strode down the front walk. She noticed that the tinted windows on Christian's car were raised so she couldn't see him, but she didn't have to be telepathic to sense he was watching her even as she stepped out of the house.

"Amy!" Her mother shouted after her. The woman reached the front door, immediately stepping out after her. "Amy! Get over here, right now!"

Amy rolled her eyes at her mother's words. Her heart pounded in her chest. Upon hearing her mother's voice break through the night, she sensed she was already outside. She whirled back around in the woman's direction, her eyes growing wide in horror. "Mom! Leave me alone! Go away!" She couldn't allow her to get close to the car. If she realized who was in it, there would be no other choice but to tell her the truth.

"I will not go away!" Teresa stomped down the front walk, getting closer and closer to Amy, and in turn, closer to Christian's car. "Come back inside!"

"Mom!" Amy screamed. "Go. Back. Inside! Leave me the hell alone!"

Suddenly, before either of them knew what was happening, the driver's side door on the black Porsche opened, and Christian appeared to Amy's astonishment. Oh God...what is he doing? Her eyes grew wide once again. At this point, her heart was beating so hard in her chest, she found herself involuntarily wavering on her heels, fearing she may faint. The box she was holding nearly slipped out of her grasp in the process. She would have dropped it entirely if she hadn't caught it with her knee.

"Who are you?" Teresa demanded, approaching her daughter's side. Her eyes shifted from a determined-looking Christian to an anxious Amy, "who is this?"

Amy exchanged a look with him as he came towards them. He was about to open his mouth to say something, but Amy shook her head stiffly in debate.

"Amy?" The woman's eyes shifted between her and Christian, her brows furrowed inquisitively. Her gaze fixated on the man before her, posing the same question but with more intent on her voice, "who are you?"

Christian looked from Amy to Teresa and then back to Amy, his expression turning firm, and almost paternal. He arched his brows at her expectantly. She could sense what he wanted her to do, but the truth of the matter was...she didn't think she had the courage to utter the words. Swallowing the huge lump in her throat, she sighed deeply.

The tension between the three of them only escalated with each passing second.

A chill danced down Amy's spine. She couldn't fathom if it was from the chill in the evening air or from the fear and tension that loomed over her.

"Amy? Is this..." Her mother's voice trailed off.

Amy exchanged another look with Christian, both of them knowing that one of them had to say something and fast. After a brief hesitation, and much to Amy's surprise, Christian broke the silence that had accumulated between them.

"Christian Troy."

Oh thank you God. Amy exhaled a breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding in. He extended his hand to her mother, but just when she thought she was home free, she noticed the cordial smile on his face disappear and his expression change.

"Amy's father. Her biological father."

Suddenly, all her hopes had been shattered in a heartbeat. She winced, a woeful sigh escaping her. Her stomach turned, and suddenly, she felt as though she might vomit. She knew it had to be said sooner or later, but she never thought that Christian of all people would be the one to utter the words. From the look in his eyes a moment ago, she was certain that he wanted the opposite. Slowly, she raised her eyes back up to Christian, expecting to see some kind of expression on his face, but his face was blank. No expression at all, but perhaps a hint of determination in his eyes. She didn't need to look at her mother to see the dumb founded look on her face.

For a long moment, her mother said nothing. Almost letting his words sink in. Finally, at long last, the woman spoke.

"You're...what?" Teresa's eyes shifted towards her daughter. "Amy...what is this man talking about?"

Amy noticed her mother looking to her for an answer, to which she turned her head away, not wanting to make eye contact or even look at her anymore. She knew that doing so would only guilt her into thinking she was the victum here. She wasn't, and she wouldn't dare let her mother drag her down anymore than she already had. As much as she tried to supress them, she felt the tears start to well up in her eyes all over again. She wouldn't lose it. Not again. Not now.

She mustered up some sort of reply, but it ended up coming out in a whimper. "It's true." A single tear rolled down her cheek as the words left her mouth.

"He's not your father." Teresa looked back at Christian, her brows furrowing incriminatingly. She shook her head, "you aren't her father. I know her father. I married and divorced her father."

Christian exhaled sharply, reached under his suit jacket and pulled out a familiar looking piece of paper, thrusting it towards the woman. "According to this, I am her father. I've been her father for nineteen years. Up until now, I had no idea I even had a daughter, but it's the truth, whether you believe it or not. I'm Amy's father...and she's my daughter." His eyes went to a melancholy Amy.

The tears were already streaming down Amy's cheeks. It felt so much more real when she heard the words coming from his mouth as opposed to hers. He had spoken them before to her adoptive father, but they hadn't felt quite as meaningful that time as they did now. Her heart constricted in her chest, fighting to gain control of herself before she really lost it.

Teresa's eyes widened in astonishment at the birth certificate in his hand. With a shaky hand, she took the piece of paper from him, looking it over as if it held all the answers to her growing concerns. After a moment, she looked up at the man before her and then at Amy. A scowl crossed her face. "There never was a Kimberly, was there? Is this the Christian you've been talking about? Amy, why didn't you tell me? How long have you been keeping this from me? Did you think I wouldn't find out eventually? Answer me!"

Amy set the box -- she still held in her arms -- down on the front lawn beneath her feet. She wrapped her arms around herself, turning even further away from her mother as the tears continued to fall. Try as she might, she couldn't block out the sound of her mother's accusing tone. Her mother reached out to touch her, but she instantly pulled away, almost as if she had been burned. She shook her head vigorously as the woman's questions kept coming. Her body shook with emotion.

"Hey!"

Amy and Teresa both turned their heads at the sound of Christian's voice. Bringing one of her hands up to her face, she wiped her tears away with the pad of her index finger. She sniffled softly as Christian stepped closer, placing himself between her and her mother. Her brows furrowed in thought. She wondered what he was about to do, but she had a pretty good guess.

"Let me ask you something, have you given any thought to way you've been raising her?"

Teresa's jaw hung open incredulously. "Well of course I have! Why? What's wrong with the way I raise her?"

Christian scoffed, shaking his head. "Well, I would have thought that after all the hell her adoptive father had put her through, you would at least listen to her every once and a while."

"I listen to her. The truth of the matter is, she doesn't listen to me!"

"That's bullshit!" Amy cried suddenly.

Christian whirled around and leaned towards her, placing his hand on the small of her back. "Let me handle this sweetheart."

She sniffled softly, brushing away another tear from the corner of her eye. Crossing her arms firmly over her chest, she nodded her head in regard to which Christian turned back to her mother. Teresa stood there with her hands firmly planted on her hips, and the expression to match.

"Do you always treat her like a child? Because from what I've heard, you don't seem to think she's even capable of supporting herself. She's nineteen! Which means she's legally an adult. You don't really expect her to live here the rest of her life, do you?"

"No, I don't expect her to, but she doesn't exactly have a job to support herself. I even have to pay her car insurance. Did she tell you that? I'm still supporting her."

"She may not have a job yet, but she will, once she comes to work at Troy/McNamara, and believe me, she'll be making twice as much there than she would working at a God damn fast food restaurant. As far as her car insurance goes, you'll no longer be obligated to pay another dime. I'll be doing that. Along with anything else she needs."

It warmed Amy's heart that Christian had stepped in to defend her, and for the second time. He'd saved her from the vengance of her adoptive father, and now he was educating her mother on her parenting skills. Something that Amy had been fighting to get through to her for the longest time. She might not have been able to read the woman's mind, but cocking her head to see around her father, she could tell by the dumb founded look on Teresa's face that he was getting through to her. Maybe things would be okay after all, but she wasn't about to get her hopes up. She knew how pig-headed her mother could be.

"Who do you think you are coming into her life now, and thinking that you know what's best for her? Where have you been for the last nineteen years? Who are you to tell me how she should or shouldn't be raised? Have you had to put up with her frequent mood swings and bouts of depression? Maybe your specialty should have been psychology. That is, if you think you're so good at giving advice."

Amy's heart constricted in her chest as her mother fired back with yet another stream of questions, but this time, they hurt her twice as more than they had before. Bringing one of her hands up to her mouth, she started to sob softly, wishing more than ever that she could just grab Christian and they could get the hell out of there. As she stood there behind him, she had to consistently remind herself that this wasn't her real mother. That nothing she said actually mattered. She shut her eyes tightly, awaiting to hear what Christian had to say back.

Christian sighed deeply, fixing his eyes on Teresa. "I told you, I didn't even realize I had a daughter until she recently came to my office. I've known her for about a week now, and maybe I haven't been around for the last nineteen years of her life, but that's all about to change. One thing's for sure, I'll be a hell of a better father than that asshole you chose to marry."

Teresa's voice broke as she replied, "I was young and I thought I was in love. What else did you expect of me? How can a teenager know what was right for her? What was right for her then, might not have been right for her twenty years later."

"Well you certainly made that abundantly clear. Look, I may not be a God damn psychologist, but unlike her adoptive father, I would never lay a hand on her, no matter how much shit she gave me."

The woman shook her head, crossing her arms over her chest. "Let's not discuss this any longer. I think you've made your point, and my point just as well."

Amy sniffled as the tears flowed down her cheeks. "Christian..." She began in a weak and slightly shaky voice. He turned around, gazing down at her and noticing the tears in her eyes. A scowl immediately crossed his face. She looked up at him with pleading eyes, hoping he'd get the message. Tempted as she was to reach out and hug him, she held back, deciding that now would probably not be the best time.

He nodded his head in regard, glancing down at the box that she'd set down earlier. "Did you get all your things packed-up?"

She nodded gently. "Yeah, there's still four more boxes up in my room. I couldn't carry all of them. What about my bed and all the other heavier things?"

"We'll get those things later, I'll hire a moving van company to come out here." He wrapped his arm around her shoulders, pulling her close and placing a kiss to the top of her head. "Let's go get the rest of your things and get the hell out of here."

She sighed deeply, "gladly." As he rotated around on his heels to head towards her house, she stepped up to her mother, snatching the birth certificate out of her hand. "Do you finally understand why I want to leave so badly now?"

Teresa scowled as she gazed back at her daughter. "Well, since you're old enough to make that decision, it's entirely up to you. If you don't value any of the years that I painstakingly put up with you and still loved you in spite of that, then go."

Amy wiped a few more tears from her eyes, sniffling deeply. She could tell that her mother was fighting to hold back her own tears, and even as she tried not to let her words get to her, they still managed to spark a feeling of guilt within her. Stealing a glance over at Christian, who had looked back at her to see if she was following, she held up a hand that conveyed she wanted him to wait for her. Turning back to look at her mother, she sighed woefully. "I don't know what you expect me to say. I love Christian. He's the father I wish I'd had growing up. Not Frank. I'd been meaning to tell you ever since I found out, but I knew you'd never understand. Look, all I'm saying is that I need to do this. I need to get away from here for a while, and I need to find myself, and the only way I can find myself...is with Christian, my real father. I'm sorry."

Without giving the woman the chance to reply, she dashed off towards Christian. The two of them entered the house and headed up to her bedroom. Together, both she and Christian fetched the boxes from her room and loaded them into his car. They had crossed paths with her mother when they came back into the house for the last two boxes, but Amy was surprised to see that she was mostly keeping to herself. Not even bothering to speak a word to them nor look them in the eye. She would have at least thought she'd give Christian or her a dirty look, if not a few last words she'd been holding back.

As Christian carried the last box out to his car, Amy found her mother sitting at the kitchen table with a bowl of cereal before her. Although it was there, she didn't look as though she were actually eating it. She had the spoon in her hand, but all she was doing with it was stirring what was in the bowl. A deep sigh escaped her, not knowing what else there was left to say. She leaned against the door frame, looking anxiously over at her. "I'm going to go now. I just...I just thought I'd say bye."

Teresa hadn't bothered looking up when she'd spoken, but after a minute, she sighed softly and finally raised her chin to look at her. It was at that moment, Amy realized that her cheeks were tear-stained from crying, and tears still seemed to be evident in her eyes. "I still love you, remember that okay? I still love you," her voice shook with emotion.

Suddenly, Amy felt those familiar tears welling up within her own eyes, but she wouldn't allow herself to let them fall. Biting down on her bottom lip, she took in a breath to compose herself. She forced herself to look away from her mother before the flood gates broke open. After what Christian had told her of her biological mother wanting nothing to do with her, she suddenly realized how lucky she was to have this other woman in her life. It didn't matter that she hadn't met Danielle Fuller. Here was a mother who actually loved her in spite of all the things she said to her or did that she didn't approve of, and even though a part of her still hated how overbearing and stubborn she could be, a bigger part of her was glad she'd been the one to raise her for most of her life. "Yeah," she spoke softly with a gentle nod of her head.

She would have said she loved her too, but at the time, she didn't know if she had enough strength to utter the words without bursting into tears.

"Amy?"

She turned her head at the sound of Christian's voice. He stood just outside the open front door, an expectant look on his face, but his expression instantly transformed when he saw her. A scowl crossed his face, and she knew he had to have seen the tears gleaming in her eyes. "Are you coming sweetheart?" He asked gently.

She pursed her lips, giving him a firm nod of her head. "Yeah." Taking one last look at her mother's melancholy form, a tear managed to escape the corner of her eye. She instantly brought her hand up to brush it away, sniffling softly. Pushing her petite frame away from the door way of the kitchen, she turned and walked out the front door. She wrapped her arms around herself as she started down the front walk towards Christian's car.

He fell in step beside her, wrapping an arm around her shoulders and urging her close to his side. "Don't you worry about a thing, sweetheart. Everything's going to be all right from now on," he placed a kiss to the side of her head, his hand lightly caressing her arm, "I promise."

She swallowed the lump that had taken form in her throat, lightly nodding her head in response. "I know."

Was it really over? Was it really going to be all right from now on? She was finally free from the chains that were binding her, and finally felt somewhat independent. This should have been a momentous ocassion to be celebrated. She was becoming more of an adult, and would finally be able to live on her own. Free to do whatever she wanted, whenever she wanted. There wouldn't be an overbearing parent there to scold her or boss her around. So Christian was her real father, but from what she could see, he wasn't exactly one to set ground rules for her. She could be free to be the rebellious person she always wanted to be. Right?

Boy, was she in for a big surprise.