A/N: So, I'm alive? I just moved to another house and hell, everything is a mess. Also, I almost cut off my own finger in an accident, so I couldn't write for a long time. ANYWAY, this is finally ready. Hope you enjoy.

Part V: For your love, there is no goodbyes.

"Lily?"

There was a warmth in her chest at the strong yet kind presence by her side, so you might guess what a question didn't do to her heart.

They had left the hospital's psychiatric ward in a hurry—or rather Lily had, and August just followed her. A lot of things went through her head, and the penny dropped as she passed the front door and came upon the sight of the city she could call home.

The cold wind hit her hair, and she closed her eyes, standing there in the middle of people coming into and out the hospital.

"Lily."

She had her arms folded, suddenly cold and frightened, as she silently walked to the parking lot next to the hospital.

August was immediately worried at her attitude, and touching her arms with such gentle hands, which seemed to burn at the mere touch, the young woman stopped, shuddered, and fixed her gaze on anything but his face, aware of the question he had for her, but unable to answer it.

For it was all too surreal.

Her father could be anywhere—and it was only a matter of time before she could know whether to meet him would be a simple or almost impossible job.

She could not stop her heart from being filled with hope at the possibility of getting to know him on that very day. But the darkness was astute enough to plant the seed of doubt in the deepest corners of her soul, and the young woman was faced with a downfall of emotions.

For if he were not in the city, her father could be in one of several kingdoms out there. Probably dead, or very old, since it had been thirty years, and he had no magic. However, that was no guarantee he was alive, in the first place. And if he had been cursed into town, to live as the opposite version of himself as everyone there, then the brave and good man from 19th century Los Angeles turned as badly as anyone could've been.

Was he a criminal? If so, why did he do nothing do when the curse was broken? Why didn't he try to avenge his family? Did he even know what happened to them? What the un-Charmings did to his child?

Lily was aware that, if alive, her father most likely believed that his family was gone for good. It made her insecure, because if in town, how was she supposed to just show up and tell him that she was his long lost child?

Questions and more questions to be answered and Lily was not sure if she wanted them to be.

"I didn't think—I mean, I knew, but—"

"Reality shock?"

And of course August understood. He remembered how exciting it was to be able to find his father after so many years of solitude. For Lily, it was more frightening than beautiful, for she was about to meet a completely stranger.

"It's gonna be okay."

Lily wished to believe him, "You heard what he said." Her eyes still avoided his, and he didn't mind this time, knowing that she was too uncomfortable for any other kind of intimacy. "Dad lied because he was scared to death. Mom was too stubborn and proud because she was scared to death. Both were stupid to see what was literally in front of them and that fucked up everything."

She had every right to be frustrated. For the what could have been would haunt her for the rest of her days. She had no wish for such thoughts to take her sleep as they did for so many years. She wanted to enjoy on the bright future she could have.

If that didn't make her even more frightened, there was the feeling hammering in her mind that something bad was about to happen—because it always did.

"You fear for your mother?" August asked.

Lily gritted her teeth in an anger that was fed through the darkness. Since when she was that obvious?

"She's not the forgiven type." She said, trying to sound kind—what an understatement.

"So you think she's going to react badly to the news?"

Lily snorted, "Don't you?"

Sure, putting lightly, Maleficent might not like finding out she was lied to for so many years.

Being her kid, Lily knew better.

Aka—Maleficent was going to be furious.

But ugh, who she's kidding? She would blame herself because had she not been so stubborn and proud about 'wanting a child, but not a relationship', then her daughter's life wouldn't have been so negatively affected.

Lily, however, didn't blame her. Her past was painful enough—she couldn't expect her to trust people suddenly, especially considering that El Zorro was an unknown tale to her life. Also, Maleficent never condoned Lily for any trust issuers. Lily felt like she owned her mother the same level of mercy and understanding.

"It has been many years. Maleficent might consider that."

"She wouldn't even if she was in a good mood." She didn't even know why she was confessing such intimate things to a man she had known for less than a week. She definitely wouldn't had August not made her feel so safe, or gave her reason not to. But she had considered Emma as a sister in only one day of coexistence, so her sudden friendship with August was not surprising.

After all, when dragons love, they love with everything they had.

"Hey..." August rested his hands on her shoulders and again she stiff, self-defensive posture fell apart, and she was now able to look at him. And she would lose herself in this crystal blue sea without thinking twice if her life was not so complicated already.

Maybe someday she might.

She had to start being optimistic about something anyway.

"It's gonna be okay." She tried to protest, but he touched her chin, and her eyes almost closed, "It's gonna be okay." He repeated, "I promise."

And she believed him.

"I need to get to Granny's." She spoke, and did not even try to pull away. August smiled at her and nodded.

His bike was parked few feet away.

Their house was considerably small for three people as roomy as Maleficent remembered her aunts were. The three sisters, however, being uncontrollably organized and methodical, had everything settled in their proper place, even though there was no room left for any further additions.

Coloured decorations ran through the place—all very characteristic of the three fairies, and one could see the touch of each in every corner—the kitchen cabinets filled with herbs because Fauna kept her garden in the backyard; flowerpots on the windows because Flora loved showing off her work; the hand-made wool covers over literally all chairs, and paintings of landscapes scattered across the walls since Merryweather would spent time painting or knitting near the fireplace on a cold winter night.

Maleficent avoided at all costs thinking about looking for them. She didn't feel ready, and was sure that Lily wasn't—at least, not to understand that her family extended beyond her mother's presence. Especially since her aunts were overly loving and meddlesome, so they would not be able to give Lily enough time to adapt to so many changes. Maleficent feared that so much pressure could have driven her daughter away, as Lily was perennially inexperienced with human relations of any kind—at least, not with the healthy kind.

Her aunts would have spoiled the girl to no ends, and Maleficent had considered, back in the Enchanted Forest, that once her baby was born, she would pay her aunts a visit, and make emends for once and for all. Had the couple of idiots not decided to be selfish, her daughter would have meet her great-aunts.

But nothing went according to plan.

Maleficent was surprised when Lily showed interest in meeting her great-aunts, though she knew it was more out of curiosity than the desire to build any emotional bonds. She tried to stifle the matter for a few weeks, fearing that something bad was about to happen.

The shot in her heart was the answer, and Maleficent found herself forced to face her past again.

Finding chinks of her aunts' unashamed magic was an easy task, especially when she knew exactly where to look—a wooden house by the side of the road, surrounded by a short white fence, a small chimney modestly emitting a shy smoke, and an orchard in the backyard. The flower shop was right beside it, and a sign with large, elegant letters caught her attention first...

May Flowers

Maleficent remembered her childhood, how many times she was enchanted by the village near the forest where she had been raised.

She couldn't help a small smile that ended up dissolved by a deep breath and the beginning of a headache. She went first to the flower shop, finding the sign 'closed for lunch'. The aroma of that vegetable soup she adored was everywhere, and Maleficent talked over to the little house, past the old orange 1951 Chevrolet 3100 Classic Pickup Truck parked at the front of the house.

Knocking at the door, she heard the murmurs from within, and waited until Merryweather answered.

"Oh, my goodness!"

Maleficent forced a smile, "Hello, Aunt Merryweather."

She was so old, and much shorter, without the glamour of a fairy's robes, hair already filled in white shades, and wearing characteristically bluish-coloured clothing. The strong and stubborn personality still persisted, and the excitement one would expect in a reunion after so many decades was tempered by a laugh.

"And they called me a crazy bitch for feeling your magic." She pointed a finger at the sorceress, "But I knew you weren't dead! I knew it!"

Maleficent's upcoming question was interrupted by a voice coming from the kitchens, "Sister, who is at door?"

Merryweather laughed more, mentioning Maleficent to come in. The sorceress hesitated, very surprised and suspicious at her aunt's behaviour. She was never easy to read, but something was off.

"Sister?" The voice approached, its owner putting down the knife on the kitchen table to go to the living room, wiping her hands on a damp cloth. "I thought I heard—Bethany?!"

The sorceress chose to wait for a better reaction before saying anything. She always had a preference for the fairy in greenish robes, yes, but they hadn't talked in more than three decades.

Again, she forced a smile, "Aunt Fauna."

The fairy approached her niece without thinking twice, touching her arms and hair, and Maleficent reacted to nothing as she watched the tears form in her eyes. Fauna looked fragile and so lonely, "But h-how? The Blue Fairy said—"

"The Dark One resurrected me."

Merryweather's voice was slightly amused, "Dragons...breaking rules as they see fit." She looked at Fauna, pointing at their niece, "I did say she was alive! I did! And none of you believed me! Where is Flora?" She opened the window and shouted to the backyard, "Sister, your old bag, come here! You own me fifty bucks!"

When Flora didn't answer immediately, Merryweather left the house to search for her sister.

Maleficent turned to Fauna with a raised eyebrow, and the fairy sighed, "She's rather...enthusiastic. Bets on everything. Flora said it's her age. The doctor said it is a progressive disease. Memory loss at first, but with late-stage, she'll lose the ability to carry on a conversation and respond to her environment. Currently, she's obsessed with bright colours, hence the so many painting in the walls."

The sorceress' eyes widened a little, alarmed, "There isn't a cure?"

Fauna smiled sadly, "There are medications for memory. As to her behaviour, we try to avoid being confrontational or arguing about facts—which is the hardest part to Flora, you can bet." Maleficent chose silence, her past experiences with Flora being enough response, "As to others, we try to redirect her attention, avoid noise, glare, insecure space and too much background distraction, including television."

"Yet she felt my magic." Maleficent commented.

"Oh, she wouldn't stop arguing whatever you're alive or not." Fauna's eyes gazed down at her hands, describing shame, "We didn't believe her. Deduced to be wishful thinking. But your aunt always had a stronger sense when it comes to you."

Maleficent was the one to sigh, "Things haven't been easy." She bit the inside of her cheek, uncertain whether she should reveal her daughter's existence or not. Lily had developed an excellent sense of direction, and Maleficent was very proud of it. However, it would mean that at some point, within hours maybe, the young woman would find her mother—and her aunts would probably faint upon discovering that they had a 'little girl' to spoil rotten.

"There is something I must tell you."

Fauna nodded, wiping her eyes from tears that wouldn't stop forming, "I could say the same." She looked up, and her niece was smiling sadly.

Another voice called their attention, covering the sob Fauna allowed to escape, and in hurried footsteps, the third sister emerged from the door that led to the backyard, Merryweather right behind her.

"Sister, can you explain what—" Like her sisters, her eyes widened, but unlike them, there was the coldness that often made Bethany tremble. "Oh."

Flora.

Always the tough one.

Merryweather frowned, thinking of criticizing her reaction and already starting a fight, but Fauna immediately intervened, "Please, forgive your aunt." She paused in a need. "Neither of us were expecting you to—" She sobbed again, and pulled the sorceress into a tight embrace. "Oh my, come here."

Maleficent just let her. She enveloped Fauna in her arms, resting her chin on the top of her head. In high heels, she grew even taller than her aunts.

"We missed you, my dear." Fauna cried. "We missed you so much."

And Maleficent would be lying if she said the feeling wasn't mutual.

"My love. My beloved."

It was 14th, and as usual, for the last four years since the Dark Curse had been broken, Diego de La Vega would visit his family.

"I hope you're well."

He always carried white flowers, representing the peace he prayed every day his family had met with death.

"Odette gave birth to a colt, black and strong, just like its father. Diablo seemed to feel that his colt will be a great competitor like him."

He always told them about his life. It was foolish to the point of view of some, for they would not hear—and he knew that if they could, they would know little about his activities. They rested in happy place, far from the cruelties of a world that took them from him.

"The Annual Championship will began in four weeks. I wonder what you would think of all this."

But his longing burned within him, and he hated himself for failing, for not being enough, for not having had the courage and simply telling the truth, for not being a man as he was expected to be.

Now he was alone in a world that seemed to be full of opportunities, but he would not add to it except for the sheer pain of the loss of the two people he loved most in his life.

"Would you hate it, wouldn't you?"

He did not get to know her as he should. They wrote letters, and he sent her gifts of all kinds, but he was also so afraid of her rejection, allowing himself to be led by the manipulation of a man wearing a crocodile skin. Today he lived in regret it and knew that it did not matter—the woman of his life was dead. And with her, the daughter of the love he felt for her.

"The horses are ready. They will bathe on the day before. The employees are anxious, as I am, it will be my first competition. It is a very important event for the farm."

On the few nights he was lucky enough not to be tormented by nightmares about the Dark Curse being cast, Diego dreamed of a little girl with olive skin and black hair and hazel eyes that, wearing a smile that lacked a few milk tooth, would sweetly ask, 'Papa, where is my unicorn?'

He had spent a small fortune to find a unicorn. His child deserved the best, and he wanted to spoil his baby with everything he had.

The unicorn was in the stables of his farm, and nobody could tame him. Diego knew that it was a response to the fact that his actual mistress did not even have the chance to breathe from the air of the forest—she was raptured by the angels of heaven and played in the clouds.

The relief was in knowing that she did not suffer. It was quick. He did not know how it had happened, and hatred for himself increased with every thought that crossed his mind—for he would only know how his daughter was taken from his arms the moment he embraced her for the first time.

But before that, he should live for years until his death. Suicide would be a cowardly alternative which he considered countless times and would still consider from time to time, from waking up every morning in that cold, empty house, and looking to his side and not seeing the woman he loved? Not hearing his child's laughter running through the corridors? That was worse than condemnation to hell itself.

"The girl would love it. They say that kids always like animals so much and..."

He cried every time, falling on his knees before the grave bearing the name of his family.

"What do I do with my life without you, my love?" He was no longer the man he once was—he no longer had the same passion, or the same vanity, and would there be any reason to keep both? The reason for his life had been erased like an abandoned house in the middle of a hurricane…and he could do nothing but wait for the day of his death so he could be with his family again. "You didn't teach me to forget you. You only taught me to love you more and more."

She was the most fascinating woman he had ever known. On the night of the ball, he could not take his eyes off her, and he did not want to. The Dark One explained that it was part of the bond they shared. It was not something imposed upon them, but a kindness toward two souls who would love each other in the most powerful magic of all.

"Maybe one day I'll be worthy of you on the other side." He still cried, and let the tears wash the sorrow of his heart, "I know there's nothing...nothing I can say to make up for my fault, I just..." His throat was soar and dry while his head burned and his cheeks felt cold as the wind of an upcoming storm bathed the tears of his face, "But I love you so much, you and our little girl." He touched the names engraved in silver to the white marble stone. "I'm sorry."

And so he did what he always has done for over many years already: he replaced the flowers for news ones, stood up and walked away.

His heart stayed with them.

Granny's was completely empty—something to do with people fearing the return of the now well-known Dark Swan.

It was not the first time Lily had faced the reality that her best childhood friend had become a monster who now terrorized the entire town with her selfishness and unconnected plans but it made her surroundings colder.

"Good to see you, Lily, August." Granny greeted them with a sad smile, having attended so few customers on that day. She cleaned the counter for what appeared to be the tenth time in less than an hour (in a way to busy her mind) when she asked, "How is Gepetto? Still complaining about that old knee?"

August chuckled, "Yeah. He can't stand doing nothing all day."

"As do we all." Granny said. "I'll pay him a visit. Might as well make that chicken soup he likes so much. On the house."

August nodded, "I appreciate the thought. He'll be very happy."

Granny smiled back, and turned to Lily, "What about your mother? I heard the news. How is she doing?"

Lily knew that the whole incident involving her mother and the judge's son had reached everyone's ears in the city—after all, it was the front page of the local newspaper.

"She's stubborn as hell."

Granny gave her a look of sympathy, "We get worse as time goes by." She joked and Lily smirked softly, for she knew those words were true, "So what's going to be? A snack, cake, perhaps a drink? Or maybe the Swan's special to warm your bones?"

Lily blinked, "Sorry, what?"

"Emma's favourite." August explained. "Cinnamon and chocolate."

Lily pressed her lips to avoid a smile. It was good to know that her hot chocolate recipe was still her friend's favourite, "I kinda need your help. About my father."

Granny's face lightened up so much that she stopped what she was doing, "Oh, you found him finally?"

"Not where he is." Lily replied, "But I know who he is."

"We thought that you may know him." August completed.

Granny leaned into the counter, not helping her curiosity, "And what's his name?"

"Diego de La Vega." Lily revealed, and her heart thudded harder at the reality of that name. "El Zorro."

Granny's eyes widened, and she rested her hands on the counter, "Well, that's..." She laughed lightly, discredited herself, and neither Lily nor August understood, "...that actually explains a lot."

"What? Why?" Lily was irritated by the smile on the old woman's face.

Granny shook her head, "I'm just surprised I never noticed before. You look just like him."

Lily knew she was blushing.

The information was...nice.

"What brings you here?"

Fauna served tea in an attempt of diplomacy that worked in a disturbingly good way. It was as if she pretended that there was no tension at all, knowing full well that if any fight broke out she would not know how to stop it.

"The Blue Fairy told me about you."

Merryweather snorted, "But of course, yes, she always keeps the information to herself. How dare she? We visited last week, and she said nothing about your return!"

"I didn't want anyone to find me and she knew it." Maleficent explained. "I'm living in the woods with—" she stopped herself before revealing what she knew was not the time.

Her aunts noticed her hesitation.

"You? Living with someone? Who?" Merryweather asked at once, and she did not look happy at all.

Flora stared at her in alarm, although her voice sounded oddly calm as she asked, "And this is a question to ask, sister?"

Merryweather waved her off, "She's no longer a little girl, and even if she's ignored us all this time," and offered Maleficent a stern look, and the sorceress raised an eyebrow, daring her to continue, "she very well knows that we care about her and whoever she is sleeping with."

Sure, Merryweather was never able to hold her tongue to her thoughts anyway, but that was too much.

"Her name's Lily—my daughter."

The three fairies gasped.

"You had another baby?!" Flora asked.

The proud smile spreading over her lips when talking about her child was replaced by a frown—another?—and while Fauna clapped in joy, Merryweather was frowning, obviously confused, "But how? I thought you couldn't—"

Merryweather couldn't finish, as Fauna covered her mouth with a hand, "What your aunt is saying is that we are all surprised by such good news!"

Fauna was quickly pushed aside by her sister, who again pointed a finger at her niece, "How come she isn't with you?! If you were resurrected a few months ago, then little Lily is still a baby! I can't believe you'd be that irresponsible, Bethany!"

Maleficent prevented a laugh, limiting herself to pursed lips—she hated giving others any explanations, Lily being the only exception.

"She's thirty, at least." She said. "She was born before the Dark Curse."

Again, the three sisters gasped.

"Your first child is alive!" Flora concluded.

"She's alive!" Fauna exclaimed.

"But where is she?" Merryweather asked stubbornly.

And Maleficent answered, "With her twin flame. It won't take long before she finds me here, so you're all meeting her soon enough."

Another moment of silence reigned, and Merryweather, folding her arms, gave Maleficent a smirk, "Her twin flame, eh? She's less proud than you were then."

Fauna hide her face in her hands, "Sister..."

Merryweather shrugged, "It's the truth and don't even try to deny it."

Maleficent wasn't trying, "He was not relevant to me then." She said, shifting uncomfortably in her seat.

Flora watched her for a moment with narrowed eyes, and then asked, "Is he now?"

Well, she did fell in love.

"Lily wants to find him."

Not that Maleficent was ready to acknowledge that out loud.

"Well," The fairy in green clothing sighed, and shared a knowing look with her sisters, who both nodded in agreement, before she looked back at the sorceress, and said, "He was here just a few hours ago."

The last time Maleficent's heart beat so loud and faster was when she was moments away from first meeting her daughter, her little girl so frightened on a cold day and among people who would not care if something bad happened to her.

"You might wonder why you have not felt his magic." Flora took her hand in an attempt of comfort, watching as the sorceress now trembled, "I'm afraid there is none left."

Maleficent's lips parted, and her quick breath became evident, "Is he...well?"

Did he know about her?

"He has been mourning your death for the last years, Bethany."

The name sounded wrong.

But she was at their home (which had been her home once). And to them, she was the same little girl they raised in the forest. No matter if she was a woman already, a mother and a wife—they would call her as they always did, and Maleficent may think them wrong, but she knew she never stopped being cared for. They had mourned her death as well.

She could see it in their eyes so sad.

"Where can I find him?"

Flora smiled at her for the first time.

"Nightfall Farm."

Lily absolutely hated graveyards.

She forcefully attended funerals twice in her life—after a friend of her adoptive parents died due cancer, and on the day she forged her own death—and she ended up feeling so sick.

Storybrooke Graveyard was like any other. Cold, gloomy, and filled with the smell of wet earth. Several tombstones and mausoleums covered the grass fields, all of which were practically protected by tall trees, forming shadows, and almost no sunlight touched the ground. Yet Lily wouldn't allow her distaste to such dreadful place to prevent her from walking past the main gate, August right on her side.

Finding what she was looking for wasn't difficult...

DE LA VEGA

Bethany & Elena

'They walk in beauty like the night of cloudless climes and starry skies.'

Dizziness hit her stomach, eyes fixed on the name craved on the headstones, Lily tried to swallow her tears, her jaw tightening.

Damn. It. All.

Sympathy was never her forte. She couldn't even say that she was taught about the true meaning of it. Of the people she had really cared about, all abandoned her. She lost hope of having someone to love her, and consequently of having someone she could love. Creating any kind of tie would then be a futility she would not give herself the luxury of—if she had the chance, in the first place.

Emma was the first exception. Lily today blamed the cursed darkness that only seemed to calm down when near its true owner.

Maleficent came later, and Lily cared so much about her that it hurt. They had such a strong bond of blood that it was surprising. They resembled many things, and differed in many things, but it was in these differences that Lily marvelled at how easily they could understand each other—at Maleficent's initiative. Lily has never seen herself as competent at doing anything about good when it comes to relationships.

August was a novelty she would only consider after her problems had been resolved.

Which brought her to current one.

Don Diego de La Vega.

Still of unknown location, but who would on every 14th day of the month visit the graves of his lost family.

Lily could only stand there and stare at what would have been her name and the pain in her chest brought tears to her eyes.

Because it had been three years of suffering to him.

Unable, she pulled away, hands to her head, and letting out a long sigh that revealed her broken breathing, she looked up at the overcast sky.

She recalled her whole life. From the lonely childhood in a house that was more empty than an abandoned shack in the middle of the desert. From a difficult adolescence under detention in the Youth Detention Centre. Earlier ages into adulthood on the streets, lost in drugs and alcohol, and then locked up in a rehabilitation clinic. Travelling to Canada in order to rob a casino in Toronto. Forging her death so she would not have to share the money left over. Emma. Storybrooke. Her mother and the most sincere love she had ever witnessed—mornings filled with the best food she ever had, afternoons of knowledge and nights of long conversations about memories or literally anything they wanted to share.

Then, the gun.

The three days awake.

August and his eyes.

The bloody Author.

And now her father.

Dad.

The mysterious man who once a month went down town to buy flowers—white lilies—and place them by the headstones of his family. No one there knew who he was, nor did he ever reveal his name.

But now Lily knew she had his eyes.

And she hoped to find him.

Now—if she could have a saying.

"Hey!"

Or, that's what she thought.

"Hey, you! Excuse me, can you help us?"

August had caught sight of a gravedigger, in his mid-fifties, woollen clothes and rubber boots and carrying a shovel in his hand.

The old man, wondering who those strange people were, walked to them in slow steps.

"Yeah?"

August introduced himself first, "Name's August." He held out his hand, and the man greeted him. "This is Lily."

The gravedigger glanced at Lily with curiosity and even concern, seeing the unhappy state she was in.

"I'm Pete. What's this about?"

The idea became a plan even before Lily could tell herself.

"Those flowers..." She pointed to the headstones. "They are still fresh. Someone put those flowers there. Recently."

The gravedigger nodded, and walked closer to the graves, propping the shovel on the ground. Suddenly, his face became wistful, "It's sad, is not it? To lose your family so soon?"

Lily's lips parted. She couldn't speak out, so August did it for her, "Did you know this family?" He asked.

"The father, yeah. He comes here every month. He was the only survivor and, well, can't just let go. It's sad, really."

"Where is he?" Lily was clearly desperate. Her father thought his family was gone forever—she just couldn't allow that.

Pete, however, was suspicious—he knew the man and people coming after him couldn't be any good, "Why? Who are you people? I don't remember seeing you here before."

August pulled out his police badge, "I'm Sheriff Booth. Deputy sheriff, under Sheriff Nolan's orders. I'm helping Lily to find whoever places flowers in these headstones because it's very important to her to find this very person."

The gravedigger seemed to lower his guard a little when he saw the badge in August's hands, "The police, eh?" He scratched his beard, thoughtfully, "Has he done something wrong?"

"We just need to find him. We have some information in regards to his family."

Pete narrowed his eyes, watching them closely. When he turned to Lily, he was quick to notice to note how anxious and on the edge of a nervous breakdown she was.

"You..." Two seconds later, wondering from where her eyes looked familiar, the gravedigger asked, "Are you related to him?"

And Lily lost her temper.

Grabbing the gravedigger by the collar of his shirt, she pulled him close and said, "Listen here, you idiot—"

"Lily, wait." August, again, touched her arm and Lily's grip on his collar loosened, and she released him abruptly, "Calm down."

Now Pete looked afraid, "Look, I...I don't know what you guys want with him. But he's a good man, and he has suffered enough."

Lily stared at him scandalously, "You think I gonna hurt him?"

The gravedigger obviously did, "You say you know his family, when I know that they all died a long time ago, grant the graves."

"Do I look dead to you?!" Lily shouted at last, "I waited my whole life to find him! He's my father, damn it!"

Pete's tired eyes widened, and he understood from where he knew he knew that pair of eyes.

"Your...what?"

Lily rolled her eyes.

"Shit, you look like him."

She approached him dangerously, "Tell me something I don't know. Now."

The gravedigger shared a look with August, who nodded at him, a tip to speak all he knew.

"He lives on a small farm on the other side of town." He told Lily. "North from here. Just follow the road."

Oh.

Lily's angry demeanour dissolved entirely, "...a farm?"

"He's a horse-breeder. Said he's preparing for a great competition that's happening in about four weeks. Back in Topeka, Kansas."

Well, shit.

A/N: Next chapter - they all meet at the farm and I can't promise happy moments. See ya!