Finals period has started. Need I say more? Exhaustion is not even the word.

Unedited.

Chapter Twenty-Five

Nightmares and Dreams

Hearing her muffled cries through the door, he snuck into the dark bedroom overlooking the family's burial grounds. He knew that his mother, or even worse, his brother, had filled the new resident's head with horrible stories of the room. The girl was four years old and had been in their home for less than a couple of hours, yet the pair had found cause to mistreat her; being a long time recipient of their disparate treatment, Stefan immediately sympathized with the girl.

- "Alexandra?"

Tiptoeing closer to the bed, he could hear her hiccup as she cried herself to sleep.

- "It's me, Stefan."

Not recalling which of the boys was which, and given the darkness of the room, the girl shook in fear; the older boy and his mother had already pinched and threatened her, respectively. Considering the soreness already in her body from an accident she did not recall, she did not want yet another bruise or ache.

- "I didn't leave the bed. I listened. I was a good girl."

Hearing the fear in her voice, Stefan turned on the bedside light; perhaps she would recognize that he was on her side.

- "Alexandra, do you not remember me? I showed you around the house upon you arrival."

She opened her eyes to look at him. Despite her memory loss in that she could not recall anything prior to the moment she and her Cousin had entered the house, Alexandra knew the boy to be exactly whom he claimed to be.

- "Please don't tell her that I am still awake. She'll spank me."

Not even in the home a full day, and the girl was aware of the woman's temperament. Stefan shook his head.

- "I would never do such a thing."

- "You wouldn't?"

He handed her a tissue he had taken from her bedside drawer.

- "Please wipe your tears, Alexandra. –No, you have not done anything wrong. And even if you did, I still would not tell."

Only knowing him for a short time, she knew she could trust him. As most children were, Alexandra was intuitive; she saw the gentleness that existed in him.

- "I don't think she likes me very much."

He scoffed.

- "She doesn't like anyone… except for Stavros. Well, and Grandfather Cristoff, but he rarely comes to visit; she visits him with Stavros."

She frowned at his remark. She knew him to be, much like the mean boy, the woman's son; yet it was clear to her that her new friend was… neglected.

- "What about you?"

He rolled his eyes as he began to walk about the large room; he did not want her to see the tears that had begun to well in his eyes at her recognition that he was deemed unimportant. He was a twelve year old boy who should not have been concerned with his mother's affection, and yet he was. For as long as he could remember, he was shunned and cast aside. He could not recall the last time he was hugged or kissed, told that he was loved or proud of, or simply acknowledge by either of his parents. Aside from the attention the staff, in pity, paid to him, he walked about the large home unnoticed. Regardless of how much he attempted to act as though it did not bother him, it certainly did. And she noticed.

- "Forget it."

He quickly yawned to disguise his tears for the effect of the act. He then wiped his eyes before turning to look at her.

- "No, it's quite alright. There is nothing really about me, Alexandra. I am… just quiet. Unlike Stavros, who feels as though he must make his presence known at every turn, I do not require much attention. Personally, I feel as though that might be better. I can get away with a lot more, and they would never be the wiser."

She could tell that he had been on the verge of crying, but that he did not want her to know it. To preserve his dignity, she let the moment pass to focus on her own troubles.

- "I want my Mummy and Daddy."

He was grateful for the change in subject.

- "Where are they?"

She shrugged.

- "I don't know."

While he knew, from the moment, he had met her that he did not want her to leave for she provided him with a companion, he could see her upset; it broke his young heart. As limited as it might have been, he wanted to help her in any way her possibly could.

- "Well, what do they look like? Perhaps we can… I don't know… attempt to find them for you?"

Once again she shrugged her shoulders. He stuck his hands in his pockets as he stared at her; she was not giving him much with which to work. He wanted to help her, but there was only so much he could do.

- "Do you know anything, Alexandra?"

Letting out a sigh as she once again began to cry, she looked up at the boy.

- "I'm all alone."

Despite the age difference between them, he could relate.

- "Well—"

He sat on the bed beside her. Seeing the cuts and bruises all over her exposed arms, and the large bandage on her forehead, he gently took her hand into his own as he continued.

- "I know I can't help you with much right now, but I can help you with this. You aren't alone… not any longer. You have me… if you want me."

He added the last part knowing that he was not a wanted boy. But he wanted her.

- "I can be your friend."

The feeling was mutual. She rested her head against his arm until he instinctively move it and wrapped it around her tiny shoulders.

- "I want you to be friend, Stefan. I'll be your friend, too."

Smiling to himself for making, for the first time in his life, a friend, he nodded.

- "Very well, then. We're friends."

It was six in the morning. He awoke with his son still in his arms while his hand continued to be interlaced with that of his sleeping sister's. He knew if he attempted to release it, she would awaken; and so he watched her sleep. She needed it; she had had a long and emotionally draining night. They both had, but this was the first time in a month in which she was able to truly rest. He could see the peace that replaced the terror of Stavros' unpredictable visits. He would not disturb it.

And so, he watched her sleep until he too returned to slumber.

She was pregnant. She was fifteen years old and pregnant. She was a fifteen-year-old pregnant teen who had always been a loner; he was her only friend… and yet she was pregnant. How could such a thing happen?

- "Were you… raped?"

She gasped as she quickly moved away from him.

- "NO! Stefan, NO! Don't… don't ever ask me something like that AGAIN! I wasn't raped."

The look of horror on her face was terrifying. He could not tell if it was an admission, or if she was simply shocked by his question. For the first time, in their lives together, he could not read the girl he had come to view as his sister. It hurt that such an event in her life had caused him to be somewhat of an outsider. While he did not expect her to give him every detail of her personal life, he certainly did not expect to learn of her… condition… in such a way. She should have told him, rather than surprised him when, after being concerned with her lack of responses to his emails and calls, he had decided to visit her.

- "It's a valid question, Alexandra! This is not you—"

She glared at him.

- "What do YOU know about what I am, Stefan?"

The phrasing of her remark caught him off-guard.

- "WHAT you are?"

She quickly corrected herself before he could further inquire as to what she meant… she did not even know what she meant. She had tucked away all memories of that night. However, it seemed as though a tiny piece of glass encasing a portion of that horrible moment in her life, had slipped from her mind's bookshelf and found its way to her lips.

- "WHO I am. Who! You don't know WHO I am, Stefan."

He grabbed the box of tissues she kept at her nightstand. Holding it out to her, he walked over to where she stood.

- "I know everything about you—"

Staring at the man with whom she had shared a horrible childhood in a loveless home, she felt the hot tears roll down her face.

- "No, you don't. You can't. Not when you…I… when I… don't even know anything about myself."

Something was wrong. She was keeping something big from him; and it was more than how she had gotten pregnant.

- "Alexandra—"

She shook her head.

- "Just… just… leave me and my baby alone. Please."

He grabbed her face as he searched for the missing pieces to her story. Whatever it was she was harboring, it was slowly beginning to kill her… his best friend, cousin, and, as far as he was concerned, his sister.

- "Let me help you."

She stared at him as the words of that night replayed in her mind. She felt her suppressed memories crashing into her mind. She had to leave. He could not know.

- "Find a way so that I can keep and love her. That's all I ask, Stefan. Please."

He went to reach for her, but she quickly walked out of the room, slamming the door in her wake.

It was seven o'clock in the morning. She awoke with her daughter tightly clinging to her, feeling the girl's breath hitting her arm with every inhalation and exhalation. She felt her fingers intertwined with his as he slept. Despite the awkward way in which they slept, they had both managed to maintain the connection. It spoke volumes of their relationship. Like he had, the previous evening, she questioned how she had allowed something so vital to remain locked away in her mind for so long. As she watched him sleep, it was obvious; she could see it… him… all over his face. She wondered how she had missed it for so long.

- "You deserved to be loved, too."

All sense of calm that now filled her seemed to have been stolen from him, as the anguish of learning that his life had been a lie, was evident on his face. She could tell, simply by the way he looked at her when he had entered the room several hours prior, that he had not the entire story; for if he had, he would have certainly… well, she did not know what he would done. But she was sure his emotions would not have allowed him to sleep beside her; his guilt would not have allowed it.

- "Mommy?"

She looked down to find her daughter looking up at her.

- "Good morning, baby."

- "Hi."

She ran her fingers up and down her daughter's back. She did not know what to expect from the emotional girl; however, given that she had not awoken once during the night, she felt somewhat optimistic.

- "Did you sleep well?"

The girl stretched slightly in her place as she let out a yawn. It was morning.

- "Uh-hmm."

Feeling a lack of space in the bed, she turned to look at the bed's other occupants before nervously playing with her mother's shirt; she was uncomfortable.

- "Nikolas is here… and Cousin Stefan, too."

Alexis finally released Stefan's hand so that she could snuggle with her daughter. While the action caused him to awake, he continued to keep his eyes closed so that she might be able to have a moment with Samantha. She did not know how she would explain to the girl that the man who scared her to the point of humiliation had spent the night; there would be no words to ease her stressed heart.

- "Yes, they are."

Despite her comfort with the two boys, given all that had happened, Sam would have preferred them elsewhere; she wanted only to be with her mother. Her embarrassment over the evening's events caused her cheeks to flush.

- "Why?"

Alexis saw this.

- "Oh… because… they were worried about you, sweetheart. They love you—"

She buried her face into her mother's side.

- "Can we go home now?"

Recalling the promise she had made to the girl, she nodded; she was regressing.

- "Yes—"

Pulling Sam further into her arms as she sat up, Alexis looked about the room. It would take much finagling, but she was certain she could, assuming Sam cooperated and walked beside her, carry all of the items out of the suite in one trip.

- "I didn't clean up the glass last night, so I need for you to stand in the bathroom like a big girl while I grab our things. Okay?"

The girl attempted to complain, but Alexis placed her finger over her lips.

- "Honey, you have to listen to Mommy. She's going to keep the door open so you can see her, but you have to be patient and wait for her where you won't cut your feet. I don't want you to get hurt."

Biting her lip, Sam nodded her head, prompting Alexis to kiss her on the top of the head.

- "That's my good girl."

She stood and carried the petite child into the bathroom, placing her right at the doorway where she could be seen. Although she would have liked to pack the bags so that they could simply grab them and leave at once, she knew Sam would grow restless and anxious all at once; and so instead she grabbed a couple of pairs of sweatpants, sweatshirts, and sneakers for them to wear. Stefan would undoubtedly bring their items to them later.

- "Ok, chipmunk—"

With clothes in hand, she approached the fretful girl.

- "Let's get changed, brush our teeth, and then we'll go home."

He apprehensively walked into their bedroom knowing the anger that raged within every fiber of his wife's being. She was angry with him… justly, but he had not any choice in the matter. His guilt over everything that had gone wrong in their lives was eating him alive. Accepting her was some form of redemption… a second chance at having a daughter… something… he did not know. He just… he had to take her.

- "Helena—"

Daggers shot from her eyes as she glared at him.

- "Get out."

He shook his head as he stepped further into the room. This was something they would have to discuss. There was no going back. His decision, like the one he had made twelve years prior, was final.

- "Listen to me—"

She stood from the seat in which she sat in the corner of the room, far from the bed they shared. Despite the purchase of a new bed, and a change in rooms, she never felt comfortable in it. Regardless of where she was, her marital bed felt… tainted.

- "You brought his child into my home—"

He interrupted her. She might have run the household and the staff, but he and his hard work had built such a life for them. Regardless of any mistake he had made, and they were plenty, he remained the head of the household. She would not take that from him.

- "Our home, Helena."

But she did not hear him. Blinded by her tears, she moved along the walls of the room until she reached him.

- "After what he—"

Again, he refused her the ability to speak.

- "She's an INNOCENT, Helena! She needs a home... I couldn't leave her... I promised him!"

She furiously wiped her tears as she finally stood in front him.

- "You promised me, Mikkos! You promised to love… me."

He caressed her wet face knowing that regardless of anything he did, her wounds would never heal. Again, it was his fault.

- "I do, Layna."

She allowed him to hold her for amount… just a glimmer of a second… and then she looked up to find some form of reassurance… some memory of the love they had shared… but he was gone.

- "Don't touch me!"

He knew the side of vulnerability she displayed would not last, but he nevertheless hated to detach himself from her. He loved her with every fiber of his being, but for whatever reason, it never translated in all that he had done. It was as though he could not love another without significantly taking from the whole piece of his heart he kept for her. But he tried… and in turn, he failed her.

- "I know you cannot possibly believe that! I love—"

She could not allow him to finish; the words hurt like a stabbing in her heart.

- "No, you don't."

She moved to their bedroom door.

- "If you did, you would not have made me raise... HAVE... him. If you truly loved me, Mikkos, you would not have done that to me. And now… now you want me to raise his other child—"

He had no other excuse for what he had done.

- "They are—"

She had attempted to keep her voice low so that no other in their household could hear the nature of their argument, but he infuriated her. The children were not innocent; SHE was an innocent… and it did not matter to him. He did nothing to preserve that part of her.

- "I don't CARE about them, Mikkos! Don't you understand that? What you've done… what you ALLOWED to be done—"

- "I did not know—"

She slammed her fist into the door.

- "I BEGGED YOU TO STAY! But… but you… you left me. That isn't love. You don't love me. You NEVER loved me."

The pain radiated in her hand, but she did not care. It was nothing in comparison to the pain that ran through her entire body.

- "Please… just… go."

Watching as she moved aside so that he could open the door himself, he nodded.

- "If I had known—"

She did not want to hear it.

- "Just… go."

He let out a sigh as he opened the door.

- "I do love you, Layna."

And standing on the other side was the person for whom her heart was completely given. The fourteen year old boy more attached to his mother than any normal teen his age, furiously glared at his father. He had heard, what Mikkos would later learn, everything.

He reached across the bed almost expecting to find her there. When he did not, he jumped from the bed. She was not there… but at the same time, she was.

They walked out of the bathroom hand-in-hand to find Stefan zipping their duffle bag; he had already placed one bag by the door. He smiled slightly upon seeing them; though Alexis could see the pain behind it.

- "You didn't have to do that, but thank you."

She attempted to release Sam's hand long enough to fully embrace the man, but the girl tightened her grip. Instead, Alexis wrapped one arm around him while her daughter took a step behind her hiding as though it were the first time she were meeting the man. Knowing Sam would be fine as long as she held onto her, Alexis focused her attention Stefan's broken heart; she whispered softly in French into his ear.

- "I don't blame you, Stefan. I don't."

He squeezed her tightly before kissing her gently on the cheek.

- "But I do."

She pulled away from him just enough so that her dark brown eyes inherited from their father met with the green eyes taken from his mother, a woman who hated him as much as Alexis loved Sam.

- "How can you blame yourself? You did nothing wrong… but be born."

She could not continue knowing that he was now falling apart; she would not throw salt into his deep and infected wounds. She would not be the one… not now.

- "I love you, Stefan; you know that. I've loved you like a brother from the moment you walked into that dark room and held my hand until I feel asleep. I love you! And I don't blame you for something that you had nothing to do with in the first place—"

He felt tears welling in his eyes as he looked past her to the terrified little girl who held her hand with one of her own, and wrapped her other arm around her waist as she hid from view. His sister was brought into their home because his… their… uncle… pitied him… because his father knew from the moment that he had seen him that he was unloved. She was brought into a household where she would be brutalized and raped because no one else would love him enough… love her enough… to realize that it was not what he would have wanted, and certainly not what she deserved.

- "I would have preferred to wait to know you than… than for you to… for her—"

She shook her head as she laid her finger onto his lips.

- "I wouldn't change a thing… not if it meant not having her… not if it meant you broken apart by those people. We're going to get passed this; and you know how I know this?"

He quickly glanced by the bed to ensure his son was still asleep; he could not shed a tear in front of him. He turned back to face her, feeling as she gently brushed away his tears.

- "How?"

He sounded so weak. For once, she would be his strength.

- "Because it's you, and it's me. That's why."

Stefan let out a sigh before kissing her once again on the cheek.

- "Are you sure you want to return to your apartment? Would it not be more prudent if I simply reserved a private room for you and Samantha?"

As tempting as the offer might have been, she and her daughter needed someplace familiar.

- "No… no… thank you. I think she and I would be much more comfortable at home."

- "What about—"

She shook her head; he was gone. She was sure of it.

- "It's okay; I think he… he served his purpose. He's not coming back."

Like the day he went to her when she needed him the most, but had been afraid to say a word, he could feel that there was more she wanted to tell him; yet, as though reliving a déjà vu, she would not. While he did not want to push her, he wondered if it had to do with him.

- "Alexis—"

Placing her hand onto his scruffy face, she smiled.

- "It's okay, Stefan. We're okay."

And not allowing him to say another word, she turned her attention back to her fragile daughter.

- "Come on, baby."

Unlatching the girl's tiny hand from around her waist, she lifted her into her arms. Sam immediately rested her head onto her mother's shoulder.

- "Are we going home now?"

Alexis looked at her brother as he continued to stare at her, waiting for her to tell him what he was. She could not.

- "Yes. Now, can you tell Cousin—"

His eyes lowered; it was as though he had been doubly rejected. He was the girl's uncle on both sides; yet despite his profound love for her, equal in match to that of his love for her mother, he remained a distant relation. Alexis saw it.

- "Uncle Stefan. Can you tell Uncle Stefan goodbye?"

Without questioning the change in the man's title, Sam slowly lifted her head to look at the downtrodden man.

- "Bye, Uncle Stefan."

As though meeting her for the very first time, he smiled.

- "May I give you a kiss, Samantha?"

She looked to her mother for guidance. Alexis nodded with a smile.

- "You know he won't hurt you baby. He loves you just like Mommy does."

Knowing it to be true, she impulsively went to reach for her mother's necklace, but quickly recalled that it was now around her neck. She held onto it as she looked back at the man.

- "Okay."

And so Stefan gently placed a kiss, for the very first time, onto his niece's cheek.

She sat on their bed drifting into a deep slumber as she held her two-year-old son in her arms. She had been feeding the boy, but at some point, she had allowed sleep to consume her. At some point, however, she felt her son lifted from her arms prompting her to awaken.

- "Stavvy?"

Andreus put his finger to his lips as he placed the boy to the crib Helena kept in the corner of the room for moments such as those when her husband had left her alone.

- "It's okay—"

Unfortunately, she was startled to find him standing there.

- "Andreus! What are you doing in here?"

Enraged at his intrusiveness into her bedroom, she quickly closed her robe and covered the exposed breast from which he had taken the boy.

- "Get out!"

The young man, ten years her junior, raised his hands in innocence; he meant no harm.

- "I'm sorry, Layna—"

And there was the nickname he had taken to calling her. It belonged only for her husband's lips, yet he had insisted, in the man's absence, to utter it; like most things he had taken to doing, it made her uncomfortable.

- "Andreus—"

He corrected her.

- "Alexei. You always call me Alexei."

She closed her eyes tightly as she attempted to control her temper. She felt his eyes ogling at her body as he had continuously done since his arrival. She felt the way, despite the size of the room, he would brush against her as he passed her. She heard the difference in the tone of his voice when he spoke to her alone, as opposed to in front of his brother.

- "Yes, but right now… right now, I'm upset with you. I don't appreciate what you've been doing."

He shook his head in confusion. He had treated her no different than he always had.

- "I don't—"

She had treated him as her brother, but he wanted more… more than she could and was willing to give him.

- "Stop it! You know very well what I'm speaking about! I am your brother's wife!"

Mikkos was fifteen years older than he, but five to her. He had watched his brother take over the business after their father had died. And from that point on, the man had focused his energy entirely on continuing on the great Cassadine Empire. He abandoned her.

- "I know that!"

She pressed on.

- "Do you?"

Embarrassingly, he nodded.

- "Yes! Yes, of course I do, Lay—Helena! But—"

She shook her head.

- "No buts! I am your brother's wife. Now… get out."

She awoke with a start; it was morning.

- "Get up!"

She did not bother putting on her robe as she crossed the room to the couch where her sister continued to sleep without a worry in the world. If only she could be so lucky to, in spite of the troubles that lay at her feet, sleep so peacefully and soundly.

- "I said, 'get up, Evelyn! It's morning."

The younger woman grew agitated with Helena. She had not had a decent night's sleep in… in years, really; yet there she was interrupting her slumber for something that did not, since their father's death, and could not concern her.

- "I already told you that I'm not going with you on this wild goose hunt."

Being as her bags were already packed, Helena simply took the outfit that had remained hung on a hanger in the closet, and set it on the bed.

- "It is not a wild goose hunt, Evelyn. You know where they are, and where the girl lives."

Evelyn rolled her eyes.

- "Yes, I do—"

- "So?"

Clearly this woman was incapable of understanding the American legal system of which Evelyn's hand had played on more than one occasion.

- "So? Helena, you just posted bail yesterday! I can't live this damn State until my court date—"

Helena casually waved her hand.

- "I am not taking you out of the country, you tart. I need you to come with me to Connecticut."

- "WHY? I gave the kid to your—"

Seeing Helena gaze turn colder than normal her unintentional attempt to associate her with Alexis, Evelyn quickly corrected herself.

- "—to Alexis. I have nothing left to do with the kid—"

- "I'm sorry, Layna."

The older woman shook her head of the thoughts of the past; she had to think of her present. She had to focus on her son; her Stavvy.

-"You made a commitment—"

Evelyn immediately cut her off.

- "I made a deal for $3,000 a month to keep the kid; and I did! I kept her for five long years, whining and crying in my head. I dealt with her sh-t for much longer than I should've, Helena!"

Confused, Helena spoke over her.

- "What do you mean? She's not some kind of used toy—"

Evelyn grabbed her pack of cigarettes off the coffee table. She had spent, before Cristoff dropped Sam off at her doorstep five years earlier, a turbulent, yet peace-filled life away from these people who thought nothing of her. She had married a man who had promised her gold, had a child with him, and nobody cared. Yet, when there was nowhere to turn, to preserve whatever dignity the family supposedly had, to whom did they… her father… turn?

- "I did not sign up for the long-haul! He told me… he told me you'd get over Steven's—"

Any false mention of her son, made Helena's blood boil.

- "My son's name is STAVROS, you ignorant little bitch!."

Not caring about the woman's obvious fury, Evelyn decided to throw more fuel into the fire. She had no duty to this sister of hers. She was not one of her servants or nannies subservient and catering to her every whim. She did not care about the woman's six years of mourning for some guy who was clearly a piece of sh-t, son of a b!tch. She was tired of the drama she did neither asked nor wanted. She had enough problems.

- "Was."

Helena however frowned at her comment.

- "Excuse me?"

Without skipping a beat, Evelyn continued.

- "Was, Helena. Your son is dea—"

Before she could allow her tongue to form the sound that would finalize the word that haunted her dreams and wake since her son's body was brought back to their home after he had been beaten so brutally, Helena smacked the woman hard across the face. She would not disrespect him.

- "Don't you ever speak about my son!"

Unperturbed by the strike, Evelyn continued; she was at her wit's end. This woman expected her to risk her freedom, and for what? She did not even have the decency to let her know.

- "Please, Helena! Your son is all that I've dealt with for all of these years! I've been stuck with the last remnant of his good-for-nothing life—"

Helena balled her hands into fists.

- "That child is NOT his—"

She disregarded the woman's statement as she continued.

- "—just in case you might want to lift what's more like your widow's veil, than your grieving mother's, to take her off of my hands. He was so sure his little Helly would want her son's spawn."

She screamed at the top of her lungs.

- "She is NOT his!"

Again, Evelyn ignored her.

- "And now that Cristoff died and he left me with NOTHING… except that little runt, I'm DONE. I'm not getting stuck with that little bastard because you people don't want to look bad in the eyes of your high-class society!"

Helena glared at her sister as she shook her head; she did not understand anything.

- "I will not have that child—"

Evelyn once again pushed.

- "Your granddaughter."

- "Insolent trash—"

When the proper woman attempted to once again strike her, Evelyn, shaking her head, caught her arm.

- "Oh, I don't think so. You used your one freebie for the day. Now, I don't know what the hell your problem is with a brat you've never met, but I don't really care; I'm not getting stuck with her. If she's happy with that little princess, what the hell difference does it mean to you? You don't give a damn about either of those b!tches anyway!"

Struggling to free her arm from the crass woman's grasp, Helena narrowed her eyes.

- "I would sooner have them die than to be associated with my family… and my son's good name. They are all monsters."

Releasing her, Evelyn walked back to the couch. Her sister was quickly becoming undone.

- "Hmm… it takes one to know one, doesn't it."

Shaking from the anger that radiated within her, Helena walked over to the room's phone; she could not spend one second longer in that room. She had waited long enough.

- "This is Ms. Komensky; I request a car and a driver."

Holding his sister's duffle bags on his shoulders, Stefan opened the bedroom door to find his fath—uncle seated on the couch dressed as though he were departing.

- "Are you leaving, Mikkos?"

The older man however shook her head.

- "I wanted to tell you this when I arrived last night, but after everything—"

He looked over to Alexis and Sam who had pulled her sweatshirt hood over her head and instinctively buried her face into her mother's neck. He hated that he had scared and traumatized the girl so severely.

- "Alexis, I apologize."

Knowing what she knew, she nodded in acceptance.

- "I know you do; I forgive you."

He noticed in the doorway that Nikolas had since appeared; he leaned against the frame as he rubbed his beautiful brown eyes.

- "Good morning, Nikolas."

The boy, ignorant of the evening's events, smiled at the man.

- "Good morning, Grandfather. Did you sleep well?"

Mikkos nodded.

- "I did, thank you very much for your hospitality. You were most gracious."

Stefan eyed the way the older man stared at the boy; he did not want any attachments to be formed. Once the man's business was settled, they would once again, resume their normal relationship.

- "I apologize, Mikkos, but what was it that you were saying?"

Mikkos raised his eyebrows to the man; he may not have made any effort to establish a relationship of any sort with him, but he was observant. Rather than comment, however, he looked from Stefan, to Alexis, and the back of the little girl's head, then back to the man.

- "Helena left Greece yesterday morning—"

Alexis released a knowing and audible gasp.

- "Why… why didn't you tell us, sooner?"

He had no excuse, so he did not answer.

- "I believe that she is somewhere close."

Stefan wanted to pummel the man with his fists, but it was neither the place nor the time; Helena was unstable. There was no telling what she might do.

- "What does she want? We've done nothing—"

Directing his response to Alexis, Mikkos nevertheless stared at Stefan, for it all began with him.

- "Your daughter."

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