Robin didn't realize she was gripping the steering wheel until she saw the white of her knuckles. She peeled her fingers away from the leather and parked the car, noticing that she had gotten to Bobbie's without incident, her mind a million miles away. She dropped her hands into her lap and forced them to stay palms-up so that she wouldn't start tearing at the fabric of her cream skirt. It wasn't the first time since she had taken over parental responsibility that she wondered if her friend had made a mistake in choosing her. There had been a letter attached, three pages explaining his decision, but it still hadn't made a bit of sense to Robin when Alexis had read it aloud to her.

It was so hard to look at Morgan and not think of his mother, of the life she could have had if Carly had stayed out of it and minded her own business. Michael had been given the option of living with her as well, but A.J. had stepped up and been a real father. A.J. had understood that Robin wasn't well equipped in child rearing and, despite the ten years he had been absent, he yearned for a relationship with his only son. Neither Carly nor Sonny had ever allowed him to simply visit his biological child, had all but erased him from existence. Michael had known only of his father because of his paternal grandparents, Alan and Monica Quartermaine.

Now, twelve weeks into this arrangement, Robin was more than overwhelmed; she was terrified. What if some latent resentment leaked into how she raised Morgan and he grew up hating her, or worse, hating himself? Could she truly let go of all the hatred she had held for half her life? She had no choice. Sonny had entrusted his only son with her and she was not about to let him down! She had burned all memories of her old life, both material possessions and bitter memories, and she had felt so light afterwards. You never knew how heavy anger, hatred, and overall resentment actually were until you no longer held the burden. It was an amazing feeling.

Carly's death had been hardest on Morgan, because he had never been without her. Michael had been switched between parents and relatives all his life, so he had grown accustomed to inconsistency. Morgan was the exact opposite. He had cried for Carly for eight days straight and, since then, he had been silent. Bobbie encouraged Robin to keep holding on, to give the child time to adjust, but she worried that she might never be able to give him the life he deserved.

At least I can keep him safe, Robin thought to herself. Her life no longer consisted of bombs, bullets, and betrayal, not since she had left Jason Morgan. She was a brilliant businesswoman, an excellent caregiver, and she was able to think on her feet. She was working on balancing her life to fit Morgan's demanding presence, and she figured she was doing as well as could be expected. Of course, there were nights when she couldn't get to sleep--nights when nightmares plagued both her and Morgan--and mornings that she felt envious of the dead.

Still, she dragged herself out of bed. If she was nothing else to Morgan, she would be a role model. When the world started to beat her down, she simply gritted her teeth together and worked even harder. It would have been easier to sit in the corner and cry. It would have been accepted if she had broken under the pressure. But she hadn't! She hadn't let herself give in, putting Morgan's welfare before her own.

In her mind, she saw the very moment when Morgan would run out and greet her; maybe address her as his mother, his laughter overpowering the breeze, and his smile so bright that it reached his beautiful cocoa eyes. She told herself that she had the power to make it more than a wish; she needed to make it her goal. He was never going to trust her if she doubted herself. She had to keep doing what she was doing, had to keep holding him, hugging him, and reminding him that he was the most important person in her life.

Robin stepped out of the car just as the front door sprung open. For a second, she thought she might have gotten her wish early, but the child running out wasn't Morgan at all, but Lance Jones. The boy was about Morgan's age Robin thought--maybe five--and he had the thickest, wispiest blonde hair Robin had ever seen. His eyes were darker than coal, but he had the brightest smile Robin had ever seen. Not five seconds later, Bobbie chased after her youngest grandchild, a snowman dishtowel in her right hand. "Lancelot Anthony Jones, stop right there!"

Robin snuck up behind him and locked him in her arms, listening to him giggle effortlessly as he tried to wiggle away. "You are my prisoner, Sir Lancelot." She teased, tickling his exposed stomach as he reached up to try and pry her fingers from his shoulders. She picked him up and handed him to Bobbie, having turned him upside down so that he was squealing with glee. Morgan watched warily from the doorstep. Robin made eye contact with him, but only for a moment. He turned his back to her and returned to the living room. She didn't realize she was crying until she felt the moisture slap her cheek.

Elizabeth curled up on her favorite overstuffed chair, content to settle in for the night and read her newest magazine. Dinner had been delicious as usual. Her grandmother had always tried to teach her how to cook, but outside of a few deserts Elizabeth was barely adequate in the kitchen.

As if someone was playing an elaborate joke on her, the second she was settled and ready to read, the phone rang. She sighed, mentally cursing whoever was on the other end. "Hello." she said rather briskly.

"Lizzie? That you little sister?"

Her irritation immediately lifted. Elizabeth could never stay mad at he older brother. Steven was one of the few people in her life that could always make her smile.

"Steven! I thought you were on location until tomorrow."

Her brother worked as a director of photography in Hollywood. Steven had been all over the world working on his sets, loving every minute of it. The last time they had talked, he was getting ready to head to Morocco for a major studio release. The international rates were staggering so he usually never called until he returned to the States.

"I was but we actually wrapped early. Shocking I know. Besides I had to tell my sister that she had a package coming to her."

She squealed in delight. Steven shamelessly fed her addiction to all things Hollywood. He never passed on any of the gossip from the set, but scripts, daily shot schedules, and sometimes even autographs made their way to her.

"Steven Deven, you are the best in the world! When did you mail it?" Elizabeth was fully aware that she sounded like some of her students when Steven called her, but she really didn't care at this point. Her older brother's presents were always the high point of her week when they arrived.

"It will be in the mail tomorrow." Steven's laugh echoed over the phone. It reminded her of growing up in Boulder and playing ridiculously complicated variations of tag. She knew Steven was doing something he loved, same as her, but she missed him terribly. "So Short Cake, how's life? Any new men I have to run off?"

She groaned. "Not you too! Did you talk to Grams earlier?"

"Would I do that?"

"Yes."

"Ok I would. But you know we just want you happy. You need more in your life than silly packages from me and running Grams from one appointment to another. I love what you did for her, but Lizzie you deserve a life too."

She rolled her eyes, forgetting for a moment that her brother couldn't see her. "I have a very full life thank you very much."

"When was the last time you had a date?"

"When was the last one you went on Steven? Still recovering from Judy?" It was a low blow, bringing up his cheating whore of an ex-fiancé, but all was fair in war with your big brother.

"As a matter of fact I met a great girl before I left. We have a date tomorrow."

Elizabeth scrunched her face, knowing she had been beat. Damn, she thought for sure that would have worked. "So when are you coming to visit us?" She flipped open her magazine, idly flipping through the pages as she talked.

"Guess that means I win huh?" She ignored his question and his laughing. She paused as she looked at the photos from the opening of some New York City nightclub when she noticed her newest favorite singer Lea Michelle pictured. "I have some free time between projects around March. Your spring break is then right?"

"Right, usually," she answered distractedly. She rolled her eyes when she noticed whom she was pictured with. The ever-present head of A&D at L&B records, Lucky Spencer. Sure the guy was cute, all right he was hot, but he was pictured every single week with a different younger singer. And what kind of name was Lucky anyways?

"Email me when it is exactly and I'll make time to come see you then. So how is Grams?"

Elizabeth dropped her magazine. It never changed. The same people doing the same thing every night of the week. She did that and was constantly called on having no life; they did it and it was considered glamorous. "She had a good day today. She made the marinara sauce."

"Ohhh, she must really have been feeling good then. She still awake? Can I talk to her?"

"It's only seven o'clock Steven. She hurt her hip. She's not dead. I thought you figured out the whole time difference thing years ago."

"I've been on a plane for the equivalent of a full day. Cut me some slack here."

"Nope. Not going to happen."

"Whatever Lizzie. Let me talk to Grams."

"Ohhh whatever. Did those starlets teach you that stellar verbal slam? Haven't you made friends with any writers out there yet?" She walked towards the den where her grandmother was working on the computer. "Grams? Steven's on the phone."

Hearing her grandmother pick up the den extension, Elizabeth hung up the phone carefully and threw herself back into the chair. She picked up her discarded magazine in one hand and the TV remote in the other. She flipped the channels to the Travel Channel, something she could watch without paying too much attention to.

She mused silently while she watched the special on Honduras out of the corner of one eye. She liked her life, why was that so hard to believe? Sure she didn't go out much, but that was okay with her. She had standards, that was it and how it would stay. Elizabeth did not want to waste her time on a bunch of frogs that would just cheat on her, leave her, or be general assholes to her. She wanted a prince. And she planned on staying by herself until she found him.