"Who took her?" Fredrick asked.

Erik tried to think, but he just couldn't quite remember. All he knew was that Katja's life was depending on him remembering this, but the memories were just beyond his reach. His head throbbed terribly. He reached around and felt a large bump on the back of his head. That explained why everything was so fuzzy. But he needed to remember for Katja's sake.

He buried his face in his hands, trying to focus. "What'd you do with my mask?" Erik demanded, realizing that he still didn't have it on.

"I didn't touch your mask," Fredrick replied venomously. "You didn't have it on when we found you. I saved your life remember? If I were you, I wouldn't be accusing me of anything!" He crossed his arms. "What the hell did you do with my sister?!"

Erik ripped open a nearby drawer and grabbed another mask. He had several spares, but he wanted to know what had happened to the one he had on earlier. It was hard to get good masks. After all, they weren't cheap. And maybe if he could remember what happened to the mask, it would be a step towards remembering everything else. He wanted to know where Katja was. He needed to know where she was.

After turning away so Fredrick couldn't see his face, Erik put the mask on. "I told you," he spat. "They took her!" He stood, grabbed his cloak, and ripped open the bedroom door.

"Who took her?!" Fredrick shouted.

Katja's parents looked over and were shocked to see Erik up and instantly began to interrogate him. "What happened? Where's Katja? What's going on?"

"I don't know!" Erik roared. Everyone in the room was staring at him. He sat heavily on the sofa, his head in his hands. "I can't remember!"

"Then how are we supposed to believe that she was kidnapped?!" Fredrick screamed. "How do we know you didn't hurt or kill her?!"

Completely enraged by Fredrick's accusations, Erik stood and drew himself to his full height, towering over the German. "Because she's my wife!" Erik shouted back. "The mother of my child! I love her! Why on earth would I ever hurt her?!"

"Well then why can't you tell us what happened to Katja?!"

"Because that gypsy beat me over the head!" Erik replied. That single detail that he unconsciously remembered triggered a rush of other memories. "Wait! That's it!" He closed his eyes and began to share what had happened. "I was upset. We got in a fight over what to name the baby. I went for a walk to cool off. When I came back, the house was empty. There was a bloody knife in the kitchen. I could hear her screaming for me. I found her by the lake, a gypsy had her. Before I could save her, I was struck from behind."

"So this is your fault!"

"I would've been able to save her if I hadn't been ambushed!"

"You shouldn't have left her! This never would have happened if you had just stayed here! You promised to protect her! How the hell is this protecting her?!"

"Do you really think I don't know that I screwed up?!"

"ENOUGH!" Dieter boomed, putting an end to Fredrick and Erik's shouting match. "This isn't helping Katja! This is the last thing she needs! Us losing our heads and throwing accusations around isn't going to bring her back!" He turned to his son. "Fredrick, did you find anything out there are all?"

He shook his head. "Not really. The snow fell too quickly too fast. Anything I think I might've have found was already buried."

"Well what about before the snow?" Brigitte asked. "Did anyone see anything unusual before we realized what was going on?"

"No," Fredrick said with a shake of his head just as his father replied, "Not that I saw."

"There were two horses," Tanja replied, finally breaking her silence.

Everyone turned to look at the little girl who was still playing with Ayesha. "Where?!" they all cried.

"On the other side of the lake by the woods."

"What did they look like?" Dieter asked her as gently as he could, but there was no disguising the urgency in his voice.

"They were really far away."

Dieter wasn't going to let their only clue be so vague. "What could you see? This is really important. I need you to remember!"

Tanja was clearly upset by the sudden, intense focus on her. "They were brown."

Her stepfather knelt next to her. "What about the people riding the horses?"

"Um…they dressed funny."

"That's it?!" Fredrick shouted. "What about Katja? Did you see her with them?"

The little girl burst into tears. "I don't know!" she cried.

Brigitte cradled her daughter against her chest. "That's enough! She's only ten. It's a wonder she saw anything at all!"

Erik was tired of listening to the shouting. It wasn't getting them anywhere and as long as Katja was with the gypsies, there was no telling what they had done to her. He yanked on his cloak and moved to open the door. "What do you think you're doing?" Fredrick demanded.

"I'm not going to sit here!" Erik snapped. "I'mgoing to go find Katja!"

"Do you think we haven't tried?" Fredrick pointed to the window. "I nearly got lost in the storm looking for her! As long as the weather's like this, there's no way on earth we can find her!"

"Besides," Brigitte added. "With that fever, you're in no condition to be doing anything."

Ignoring their protests, Erik ripped open the door and was nearly blown backwards by a gust of wind. Even though night had long since fallen, the only color he could see was white. It took all his strength to close the door, and with a feeling of crushing defeat, Erik realized that his in-laws were right and there was no way on earth he could get to Katja until the blizzard died down. He could only hope that wherever she was, she could hang on.

Katja stared at Chavi with barely opened eyes. The gypsy girl had gotten ahold on one of the mask fragments and was attempting to saw through the rope on her wrists. Unfortunately, the porcelain was too fragile to sever the rope and was just cutting her hand. "Why do you keep trying?" Katja asked softly. "You're only hurting yourself."

Chavi glanced over at their captors to make sure they were still asleep. "Because I don't want to die! If I could just get my hands free, we could escape."

"It's not going to work. And even if we did, we'd die out there. Look at that snow!"

"Don't tell me you've given up already!" Chavi cried. "You of all people should be fighting to get away! Don't you want to protect your child? You know they'll kill your baby!"

"They've already killed Erik." Katja let out a quiet sob. "He's gone."

"Who's Erik?"

"My husband." Tears began to rush down her cheeks. "We fell in love after he rescued me from the gypsy camp."

"He's the one who killed my father," Chavi whispered. Katja stammered to find an explanation, an excuse, anything, but finally nodded slowly. To her surprise, Chavi didn't seem angry, if anything, the gypsy girl was the opposite. "The bastard deserved it, after what he did to you, and so many others. God, because of him, I don't even know your name!"

"It's Katja," she replied, staring out the window at the whirling snowstorm. "Not that it really matters anymore."

"Katja," Chavi repeated, trying the foreign name. "That's pretty. Well, Katja forgive me, but I have to ask…your baby…is it…?"

"No, it's not your father's," she answered quickly. "The baby is Erik's."

Chavi let out an audible sigh of relief. "Good. I didn't want you have to deal with that."

"Well now it doesn't matter either way," Katja murmured. "Seeing as they're going to kill us."

"But you can't give up!" Chavi cried. "You're a fighter! Giving up isn't like you!"

"What makes you think that?" Katja asked sadly. "I'm anything but."

"How else did you survive five years with my father?" Chavi countered. "You were one of the two who ever survived, and that's because you fought to live."

Katja shook her head and curled up into a ball, refusing to talk anymore. The room fell silent as the two prisoners drifted into fitful sleep as the snow piled up outside.

Not much later, Katja woke suddenly. There was a pain in her stomach and she didn't know what to do. She sat up, as the pain disappeared for a few minutes. Just as she thought it was all in her head, she felt it again. When she felt something cold and wet running down her leg, Katja began to panic. "Chavi," she whispered. The gypsy girl stirred and opened her eyes. "What should I do?"

"What's wrong? I mean, besides the obvious."

When Katja spoke again, her voice was tiny and full of fear. "I think the baby's coming."