Remy's POV:

I took off so fast Peter was having trouble keeping up with me.

"Remy! Wait! What is it?"

I held the park gate open for him. He walked through it, looking lost and bewildered.

"I know. I'm nearly certain. I think I know where the words are. For real."

His eyes brightened and he hurried to my side. I let it swing behind us and tried to think.

"Where are they then?"

I sighed, wondering how I would explain it. "Peter…you wrote the first important chapter in my life. But this story doesn't begin with the first chapter. It begins with a prologue."

He understood. "Who wrote the prologue?"

"My sister. I found her in my kitchen that morning, the morning she…"

I deliberately trailed off. He didn't need the full story. I realized how ridiculous I must have sounded to him. I was saying that the key to saving everything we both cared about was somewhere stashed away in my kitchen. I just hoped I was right this time.

"Which way are we going?" he asked in earnest.

I looked at him. His face had regained a little colour and he looked more hopeful than I'd seen him in days. He looked willing to walk to the ends of earth and back for those words. But I couldn't help noticing that his small bout of happiness failed to conceal the tired expression that seemed to take hold of his face like…like sorrow took hold of a funeral. Like a good story took hold of a reader. Like an unfortunate event took hold of a local community.
The drizzle was only getting heavier and I wasn't going to make Peter walk. I remembered that I stuffed an emergency fiver from my bag in my pocket beside my house key before we left, just in case of an emergency.

"There's a Freephone for taxis in the hospital," I told him. "I brought money. We can get a lift to my house."

He nodded and we quickly crossed the rood and soon into the hospital doors. It was hectic – nurses and doctors were rushing here there and everywhere. Patients were being scooted around in wheelchairs and gurneys. Children were being led around by tired – looking parents, attached to drips. People were sleeping in chairs in the corridors, waiting to be seen or waiting for news of their loved ones. I knew the feeling.
Leaving Peter reading a leaflet on mental illnesses I crossed through reception and saw the taxi phone. I caught a blonde receptionist looking at me worriedly. I automatically took my hood down and gave her a winning smile. She looked relieved and I resisted the urge to roll my eyes. According to most adults if you were an adolescent and had your hood up you were something to be feared.
Ignoring the eyes I felt were on me I walked to the taxi phone and dialled the number displayed on the wall beside me.

"Hello, this is Dempsey's Cabs." She sounded familiar, but I brushed it off.

"Hi, can I get a cab to pick me up from St. Jean's Hospital?"

"Sure, where will you be going to?"

I told her my address and she told me the cab would be there soon. I thanked her, put the phone back and left reception to find Peter. When I spotted him I forgot about the woman on the phone because he looked rather…disturbed. Taking him by the arm I led him outside and sat him on the curb with me, and thankfully the drizzle had stopped. I pulled my hood up again though, just in case anyone saw me.

"So," I said. "I guess you don't like hospitals. Are you okay?"

He still looked a bit queasy. "Yeah, I'm fine. And I don't mind hospitals."

"What then?"

"Those leaflets are very…descriptive."

I frowned. "It was only mental illnesses you were reading."

He shook his head. I turned around and peered through the glass doors. The leaflets on mental illnesses were in their plastic case on the wall. Then I saw the ones beside them and cracked up laughing.

"Don't laugh."

"Didn't you know what that meant before?"

"Not really."

The leaflets beside the mental illnesses ones were thick, bright pink and displayed a smiling woman on the front. Above the woman it said, in bold white letters, 'Your Menstrual Cycle' .

I had to bite my cheeks to hold it in.

"Does that stuff really ha –"

"Peter. Stop. I'm not talking to you about it. Ask Raybha when we get back."

I knew he would drop it then. The thought of talking to Raybha about womanly problems was sure enough to terrify anyone into submission. I turned back around just as a sleek black car with a yellow taxi sign on the roof rolled into view. DEMPSEY'S CABS was stamped across the doors and bonnet in big yellow letters. For a moment the colour reminded of the man with no gun's car, but it was only a moment. I saw that the driver was a bald man who looked cheerful, which was a lot for the depressing surroundings he was in. I stood up, pulling Peter up with me. I hoped I had enough money.

He pulled up in front of us.

"Evening, kids. How are we today?"

I told him we were fine, but then he looked at Peter.

"Blimey! You okay, lad?"

"He's fine," I said, smiling reassuringly. "How much?"

"Five euros, pet."

I handed him the scrunched up fiver and opened the car door for Peter. He climbed in slowly and it hadn't dawned on me until then that he had never been in a modern car before. Oh well. First time for everything. I got in beside him and he looked bewildered again. I slammed the door shut and quietly demonstrated to him how to put his seatbelt on. He gave a silent nod of thanks and I smiled.
In the car we learned the driver's name was Danny and I was definitely right about his cheerfulness. He told us all about his family – his wife Jess, his fourteen year – old son Olly and his four year – old twins, Luke and Steven. He never seemed to stop talking but honestly I was enjoying his cheesy jokes and stories about the old days. He had Peter laughing just as much as me.

"So, what're your stories kids? Oh, sorry. Don't mind me. Too nosy, that's what I am."

"No, it's fine," I said, still grinning. "I…um…we're friends. School friends. Visiting Peter's auntie in hospital."

Danny caught my eye in the wing mirror. "Just friends?"

I went as red as anything and Danny just started laughing and apologizing for being nosy again. Peter gave an awkward laugh and I cleared my throat, focusing on what was outside. We were almost there, going through town. I was about to relax again when I spotted two familiar people wandering around the market holding hands. I quickly turned my head to face Peter, holding my breath.

Please don't see me, please don't see me.

We passed the market and I let out a sigh of relief. Peter looked at me questioningly.

Ma and Joseph, I mouthed. Although I wasn't sure he understood he nodded anyways as if he had. I took my house key out of my pocket and played with it. When we moved into the house I was allowed to pick my own key to be cut, and I picked a light blue one with yellow smiley faces all over it because I was too cool. Obviously. I remembered Martina picking a pink one with red lipstick kisses patterned on it. I had it in my room somewhere safe. Safe enough that I couldn't even remember.

"We'll be there in a minute, kids," said Danny.

Peter thanked him politely for bringing us but I stayed silent, too wrapped up in my own memories to talk. But Peter nudged me and I knew I had to say something.

"Thanks, Danny. For being so nice to us. I'll definitely put a good report on the web."

Danny laughed. "Y'know, you kids are nice. Sorry if I've been a bit full on! Jess goes mad sometimes, and she calls me bananas! Peter, a bit of advice for you. Don't ever go contradicting your wife, or your girlfriend! They're always right, no matter what!"

I kept my eyes trained out the window, knowing Danny would be looking at me again to prove his point. Peter laughed, but it was empty. He would never be married, and unless we could break our bonds the future wasn't looking too bright for him girlfriend – wise either.

"Right kids, we're here."

My house looked like heaven. Heating, beds, bathrooms, washing machine and a fridge. The bare necessities for a girl like me.

Like me, meaning unbelievably lazy at the worst of times, not to mention a foodaholic.

"Rem? Come on!"

Peter was already opening the door on his side, having successfully removing his seatbelt. I realized that I was incapable of concentrating on only one thing at a time. Unclicking my seatbelt and opening my door, I thanked Danny one more time.

"Don't mention it, pet. See you now!"

I randomly noticed he had eyes that were as blue as the crystal waters in the Bahamas themselves. I got out of the car and slammed the door shut behind me, slapping the roof of the car. Peter was waiting for me on the path and Danny honked the horn twice before leaving us and disappearing down the street. Then I realized something else as I joined Peter.

"Why'd you call me that?"

"Call you what?"

"Why'd you call me Rem?"

He shrugged. "I dunno. Why?"

I shrugged, dismissing the matter. "Look, I saw ma and Joseph in town. We need to hurry, they could come back at any time."

I still had my house key clutched in my fist and strode towards the front door, Peter at my side. Holding my breath I put the key in the lock and turned it gently, as though there were a sleeping fire – breathing dragon on the other side we needed to be wary of. I winced as the door swung open, creaking loudly. But there was no fire – breathing dragon awaiting nor anyone else in the house. The empty hallway lured us in, Peter taking the first step without a moment's hesitation. He looked at me expectantly, and suddenly I felt very afraid. I wanted nothing more than to take him and leave. I was afraid of being wrong again, I was afraid of hurting him again and I was stupidly afraid of everything. My surroundings appeared to be quite big, whereas I was tiny, stupid and helpless.

"Remy? What is it?"

I was afraid then to look at him because I knew my eyes were glistening, like the water when the sun was shining. Taking a step onto the wooden floors I gave a nod to say I was okay. I moved aside and closed the door, locking it again. The house was cool and felt strange, but for a precious moment I let myself enjoy the atmosphere of home, the atmosphere of somewhere I belonged to. But it was only for a moment. Glancing at Peter I saw something flicker across his face, but I couldn't quite put my finger on it. Instead I started towards the kitchen at the end of the hall in a quick pace, my footsteps echoing with his. My fear was creeping in again and I unsuccessfully tried to keep a calm face. Peter gave my shoulder a brisk pat.

"It'll be okay."

I felt a wave of confusion before blushing violently. I didn't even know he was looking at me. I caught a glimpse of myself in a small mirror on the wall as we were passing, and everything in that moment seemed to slow down. I looked so different.

I was wide – eyed, with a newly tan face, and my dark hair shone and framed my face. My eyes were still glistening, making them stand out. But they weren't the only changes. They were minor. I saw something else, something that made me stop and stare so I knew for sure.

It was hope. It was determination. It was strong. I noticed it wasn't easily washed over because a few tears had escaped. I swiped them away before Peter could see, willing myself to keep it together for him. At first I didn't know why my eyes were even shining, but now they had delivered the message I needed to hear. For the first time, in a long time, I felt a massive bout of hope. And then I knew I was right. I knew the words were there, because somehow I felt Martina was telling me. She was the reason of my hope. I knew she was still around in the sky somewhere, and she was helping me. Peter was waiting in the kitchen doorway for me and I surged through, barely looking at him. The kitchen was big and usually bright, but now it was dark due to the apparent lack of sunshine. I didn't allow myself to look at the space on the floor where I had found Martina that morning. It still haunted me.
Instead I scanned the area. The black shiny countertops were laden with things like small plants and mugs and decorative kitchen items. The wide windows were locked tight. The once light blue walls held things like huge canvas pictures of New York City, and one of the family taken three years before. I was flashing a big toothy grin, and Martina had her arm around me while ma and Joseph were holding hands beside us. United. I looked away and kept searching. The white cupboards were plain. The table was spotless as usual, but the fridge was another story. It was covered in little bright coloured letter magnets and pictures and letters and reminders. I strode towards it and started pushing aside different papers, trying to find a clue.

"What are you doing?"

I jumped. I had forgotten Peter was even there in my evaluation.

"Just – just looking. They could be here."

Without another word he was right beside me, rummaging. He was as desperate as I was.

After five minutes it was pretty obvious nothing was there. I kept a clear head.

"Look in the cupboards."

After a quick check nothing was in them either.

My head was getting hot. I was getting angry. But after seeing the look of total hopelessness on Peter's face as he leaned against the kitchen sink my anger fizzled out.

Keep it together.

"They're here, Peter. I promise. Okay?"

He looked up at me suddenly, as if he had forgotten he was even there. "Okay."

I forced a bright smile. He had been there for me, and now it was my turn.

The fact that I felt Martina was somehow handing me hope gave me something to think about, to consider. Maybe the words were something to do with her. Maybe…

I walked over to the wall with the canvases and stared at the one of us. Then I reached up and took it off its hook.

"What are you doing?"

I was about to reply when something fell out from behind the picture. A white envelope slipped onto the countertop below before gliding down onto the tiled floor, stopping at my feet. I practically threw the canvas back on the hook just as Peter reached my side. He whisked up the envelope fast, as if there was someone around waiting to snatch it. He handed it to me and I took it carefully, examining it. There was no writing on the front and I felt a slip of paper inside it. Sticking my finger under the seal I took a deep breath.

Then a noise stopped me dead in my tracks.

"I'm so tired, I think I might have a glass of wine in a while…"

I stared in horror at Peter.

"Joseph, would you hand me that bag?"