Bree shifted in her seat and blinked her eyes. They felt gritty as if they'd had sand in them. A glance at the clock told her that she'd been at it for nearly three hours. She hadn't meant to spend so much time in front of the computer, but when she'd received the photos from a colleague requesting her assistance, she hadn't been able to decline.

So much for her vacation.

She didn't care for vacation that much anyway. She'd always believed that people who wanted to take vacation must not really like their jobs. Which had never been the case for her; she had always loved being a government agent. It was exciting and exhausting all at the same time.

But right now, she knew that she would scream if she looked at another crime scene photo. Sighing, she closed down the screen and logged off the program before snapping her laptop shut. She stood up and stretched, working the muscles that had sat idle for so long. Her stomach rumbled as she stretched, forcing her to wander into the kitchen in search of a snack.

Her mother was sitting at the kitchen table looking when she rounded the corner into the bright, airy kitchen. Jess looked up as Bree walked to the counter and grabbed an apple. Crunching on it, she sat across from her mother.

"What are you doing?"

Jessica shrugged, but pushed the book toward her daughter. "Oh nothing, just reminiscing. I was looking at pictures of you when you were little. When you are away, I forget how grown up you are."

Bree looked down for a moment. "Mom." But she pulled the book closer and studied a photo of her father. He was holding her on his knee and she was giggling, a smile from ear to ear. Try as she might, she had no real memories of Nash Brennan. When she'd been younger it had made her angry that she couldn't remember him; but now, she was simply sad that she'd never gotten the chance to have a relationship with him.

"It's true. When you are away, I forget that you aren't my little girl anymore. But when I see you, I remember how fast those years went by," Jessica protested. She pointed to a photo. "This was taken just a few months before Nash died. He was so proud of you, of what you would become."

"When I was little, I'd try and imagine what it would be like if he'd been there. I can't say that there was a void in my life because I didn't know a time when he was there. But I would see all the other girls with their dads and think that that was how it would be if he hadn't died," Bree replied, turning the page to other photos in a seemingly chronological order.

Jessica stood up and sighed. "I wasn't a very good mother to you when you were little. I was sick, but I got better and tried to make up for it. Perhaps I wasn't good enough."

Bree frowned. "No, no. Mom." She stood up and walked to her mother, hugging her shoulders. "No. you were a great mother. I know that those first few years after Nash's death and when the truth about Julia came out was hard for you. But you were a great mother."

"That's nice to hear, sweetheart. I love you." Jess turned around and hugged her daughter close. Sometimes love had to be enough.

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Georgie crept down the stairs. It was long past dinner and she'd already heard Maxie tuck her girls into bed. But she hadn't been able to work up the courage to face her sister until now. Not after her sudden outburst when Mattie had left.

Georgie didn't know how to explain her life to her sister. She'd loved and lost so much that it seemed impossible to try and make Maxie understand it.

But she couldn't hide up in her bedroom forever.

She rounded the corner and started into the living room—where Maxie and Spinelli sat, watching some nighttime drama. She cleared her throat, announcing herself. They both looked up in surprise.

"Georgie. Are you alright?" Maxie asked worriedly.

Georgie looked down for a moment.

Spinelli stood up and kissed his wife. "Well, I think that I'll go up to bed—leave you two to talk. I love you Maximista." As he passed Georgie by the stairs, he paused. "I'm really glad you're home, faithful friend."

Maxie waited until she'd heard him round the corner and walk down the hallway toward their bedroom. She flipped off the television and motioned to the couch across from her chair.

Georgie dutifully sat, wringing her hands. She hated confrontations. No matter how long she'd been a WSB or how many interrogations she'd been a part of, she still hated confrontations. She sighed, knowing that Maxie didn't care for awkward silence.

"I don't know what to say," she said finally.

"Well that makes two of us," Maxie smirked, immediately angry at herself for snapping. An attitude was not was Georgie needed. "I think that you at least owe me an explanation."

"I don't know if I can give you that, not right now."

"Please try," Maxie urged her sister.

Georgie stood up and walked to the window, pushing back the curtain and looking out into the darkness.

Finally she sighed and decided to take the plunge. "I was married."

To her credit, Maxie didn't look shocked. "Was?"

Georgie turned back to face her sister. "Yes, was. We didn't divorce or anything. He was the love of my life, right up there next to Dillon. He died."

Maxie's face fell and she bit her lip, unsure of what to say. "Oh Georgie. I'm so sorry. That must had been so hard for you."

"The hardest. It wasn't supposed to be that way," Georgie replied bitterly.

"Well of course not. No one wants their spouse to die."

"No, that's not it. You don't understand. He didn't die from cancer or a heart attack. He was killed. Murdered."

Maxie gasped. She hadn't been expecting that. "What? How?"

"Someone I made very angry wanted revenge. So he went after my family."

"Oh sweetie, I'm so, so sorry. When did it happen?"

"Eight years ago," Georgie replied dully.

"I'm so sorry Georgie," Maxie said softly. She knew how hard it was to admit the truth.

Georgie shook her head and turned toward the stairs. "It doesn't matter. It was a long time ago. I should be over it by now."

Maxie stood up and crossed the room, reaching for Georgie's hand. "That's not true. Death is something we never get over. It does matter. And you don't know how glad I am that you told me that. Now I know something of your life from when you were gone."

Georgie smiled faintly. "I suppose. I'm tired so I'm going to go to bed."

Maxie nodded and watched her sister climb the stairs. "I love you Georgie."

She stopped and looked back at her sister. "I love you too, Max." silence filled the room as Maxie waited for her sister to disappear around the corner. So much had happened in such a short amount of time. She knew that they all needed time to process it. But knowing one piece of her sister's life made the processing just a little bit easier.

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Olivia hugged her wool coat closer to her body as she walked through the east entrance into the city park. It was funny, she thought, after living in Port Charles for more than twenty-eight years; she'd never been to this section of the park. Sure, she'd jogged around the trail on the north end and once she'd even attended a picnic near the west entrance, but she'd never come by this gazebo.

It wasn't as though she was unaware of what despicable act had taken place near this very gazebo—no one could live in Port Charles for long and not know of it's odd history with mass murderers—but she'd simply never found a reason to come here.

So now, after all these years, why was she here?

Olivia recalled the text she'd received that morning. It had been very simple, nothing more than a few words asking her to meet at the gazebo at the east entrance of the park. At first she'd been surprised to receive the text. In all the years that she'd known Georgie, she hadn't ever known her to come to Port Charles. In fact, it had been all but forbidden.

After all, she had supposedly died.

But here she was, in Port Charles, wanting to see Olivia.

Olivia couldn't help but like Georgie. She had been the perfect match for Dante. And they'd been so much in love, a rare thing in today's world. But that love had been torn apart by a tragedy.

She thought of her sweet son, the one she'd worked so hard to protect. For the first twenty years of his life, Dante had never known of his father and the pain wrought in Sonny's wake. How ironic it was that Dante would die at the hands of people Olivia had once protected him from.

But it hadn't just been her son. No. as it to add insult to injury, they had taken Olivia's sweet granddaughter Amelia.

She thought of the call she'd received twenty-three years earlier. Dante had been so excited to tell her that he'd met a woman—a WSB agent—and that she was the one. Olivia remembered feeling so happy that her son had found happiness—only to be confused at the parameters of the relationship.

In the beginning, they hadn't told Olivia the details. She'd only known that Georgie couldn't ever come to Port Charles because of her supposed death and that she was an undercover agent for the WSB. At first this had worried Olivia. What had her son gotten himself into?

But she'd soon realized how perfect they were for each other. Not only did they have their job in common, they had a love of old movies and of books to share.

When they'd announced their engagement, she'd been so overjoyed. But she knew that their love was not a conventional one. She had been instructed to keep quiet about Dante's marriage because Georgie was supposed to be dead. Olivia had complied even though it became especially difficult when her granddaughter had been born.

After their wedding, Georgie and Dante had settled in New York. It was close enough to feel like home, but far enough away to keep a low profile. Olivia had been tempted to move to the city to be near them, but Dante convinced her to stay in Port Charles.

So for nearly three decades, Olivia had stayed in Port Charles. She had eventually purchased a condo in the middle of town. Also she had stayed on at the Metrocourt as assistant to Jax—much to Carly's dismay. She'd stayed in Port Charles and worked at the hotel because she enjoyed the challenge and work kept her mind off the fact that her son was far away in a relationship that was—according to the state of New York—physically impossible. Although her life had been her own, she had missed being her son and the chance to watch her granddaughter grow up.

After Amelia had been born, Dante and his daughter had traveled back to Port Charles each summer to visit. They had fabricated a story about Amelia's mother having a demanding job—which was partly true anyway. Everyone in Port Charles had believed it—including Olivia's own cousin Kate.

So in the end she was standing in the park on a cold winter day waiting for the daughter-in-law she barely knew. Olivia looked out into the bright winter sun and smiled when she saw a tall brunette crossing the snow covered ground.

"Hi."

"Hello, how are you?" Olivia held out her hand, which Georgie clasped tightly.

Georgie shrugged. "I'm fine. It's weird, being back here."

"I bet." Olivia motioned to a bench. "Why don't we sit down?"

Georgie nodded and followed her mother-in-law across to the stone bench. "I told my sister about my marriage."

"Yes, how did she take it?" Olivia asked.

"I didn't tell her who I was married to. That would take too much explanation," Georgie hugged her coat closer to her body as she talked. Perhaps she should have met Olivia at the Metrocourt.

"You can, you know. Dante wouldn't have minded."

Georgie nodded. "I know, but it's still too painful."

Olivia smiled slightly. "I know that too. I miss them both, everyday. There is so much that I wish I could tell him. You don't know how many times I wish I could have watched Mel dance just one more time."

"I made a mistake. I made too many enemies and didn't protect my family."

Olivia shook her head quickly. "No, no. you can't think that way. You did not do anything that caused Dante's and Amelia's deaths. I don't want to hear differently."

"I will always blame myself, no matter how much time passes. But for the record, I am glad that the ruse it up. I'm glad that I'm home."

Olivia stood up and pulled Georgie up with her. She enveloped her in a hug. "I'm glad that you are home too. You should talk about Dante and Amelia. They don't deserve to be forgotten about."

Georgie hugged Olivia and then pulled back. "Thank you. Thank you for keeping my secret for all those years even when it was hard."

Olivia smiled just as her phone rang. She glanced down at it and grimaced. Jax. "Oh no. Listen Georgie, I would love to chat, but I sold my soul to Jasper Jax and am being summoned."

After a quick hug, Olivia hurried out of the park and toward the center of town. Georgie watched her go as she mentally prepared for her next stop.

_________________________________________________________________________________________________________

The house was silent as Maxie slowly climbed the stairs with her dust rag and vacuum cleaner. Her family was away for the day—the girls to school for their last day before Christmas break—and Spinelli to his work for the FBI.

After that horrible biochemical poison outbreak nearly twenty- eight years ago, Spinelli had worked as a technical analyst for the FBI. He no longer worked for the mob as Jason was no longer supposedly in the mob. But Maxie knew that despite his consulting for the FBI, he was very much in the midst of international crime. Even Jason, who kept up the coffee importing front, still maintained his alliances and contacts for the mob.

Maxie took her cleaning supplies into her and Spinelli's room first. She figured that theirs was the neatest and would take the least amount of time. Then she could focus on Fiona's and Julia's rooms, for they were sure to take much longer.

Even though she finished the master bedroom in less than ten minutes, she wondered why she just didn't bother to hire someone to clean it for her. Truth be told, she hated house work. But as she was a responsible adult—a responsible adult with a mortgage—she had to do just what she hated.

Sighing, she carried her cleaning supplies out of the room and into the hallway. Fully prepared to take on the task of her daughter's rooms, she paused, glancing at the closed door across the hall.

She might as well tidy up her sister's room while she was at it.

Maxie walked up and pushed open the door. Upon entering, she knew for certain that Georgie hadn't lost her neatness gene over the years. She checked the bathroom, which was spotless and cleaned a little of the dust off the desk. All in all, the room was immaculate.

As she prepared to leave the room, a piece of paper on the nightstand caught her eye. Maxie walked over and picked up the paper, seeing it to be a photograph. She studied the photo closely.

It was of a girl, a young girl with caramel colored hair wrapped into a tight bun. She wore pale blue leotard, making her piercing blue eyes—so like Georgie's—even bluer. She stood next to a row of mirrors, leg up on the barre.

Maxie couldn't help but be shocked. Was this girl—this child—Georgie's daughter? The possibilities were endless. But in her heart she knew, this was Georgie's daughter. Though the question was: where was she? Why hadn't Georgie said anything about having a daughter? Unless…no, she was probably in college or something. Surely Georgie kept in regular contact.

Maxie ran a finger down the girl's face before turning the photograph over. She had to squint her eyes to read the faded writing. It was written in neat printing, clearly and delicately.

Mom, here's a picture so you don't forget what I look like while you are away saving the world. Come home safe, we need you.

Love, Amelia

So she did have a daughter. But what happened to her? Maxie bit back tears as she quickly replaced the photo and hurried out of the room. She couldn't deal with anymore sadness right now.

She might have hated cleaning, but it sure was a good way to not think about anything.

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So please review! I hope that you like this chapter and continue to look for updates. I have a long weekend this weekend so I may be able to get up another chapter within the next four days. Enjoy!