Milah had disappeared. Nobody knew where the hell she'd run off to since her ill-fated attempt at kidnapping Bae. Arthur was relieved, at least, that Jones was out of the picture. As far as parole violations went, attempted kidnapping was a pretty serious one. Without her number one asset, Milah seemed to have gone to ground and even Dove couldn't locate her. Jones may have some clue of who she'd seek out for help, but he was refusing to cooperate with authorities at the moment. At least if she was alone, Arthur was fairly certain that even if she tried something they'd be able to stop her – and now that she had tried something, getting a restraining order against her had been a simple matter. If they even saw her, they were well within their rights to call the police and have her taken away before she was even within spitting distance. In that way, it was almost a relief that she'd confronted them like she had.

Milah's attempt on Bae had one horrible consequence, though, that was very nearly intolerable: Bae was having nightmares again. Arthur had known intellectually that his son had suffered from them on and off for most of his life, but these were worse than he'd known about and certainly worse than he'd seen. The fact that even Belle seemed disturbed by this latest round, though, had him particularly concerned. Bae had even returned to sleeping in his mother's bed yet again, after having slept in his own room since they moved into the same house. More worrying than that, though, was that the boy now refused to be in a room alone at all except to shower. If Belle was cooking, Bae would be in the kitchen with her. If Belle was taking a bath, he'd be reading quietly in Arthur's study while his father went over papers. After school, he would lurk quietly in the pawn shop or the florist's after school, never quite out of sight.

Arthur had been angry that Milah had left him, he'd been furious when he found out she hid Bae, and he'd been livid when she tried to steal the boy back, but watching his son suffering and being powerless to stop it made him hate her in a way he hadn't known he could hate another person. His son had been thriving, and now he wasn't. The woman responsible didn't even care, either. She claimed to love the boy, and she'd traumatized him so fully that he was having a difficult time functioning and had been to therapy every day for the last four days. It wasn't getting any better and Arthur hadn't ever known helplessness like this before. He desperately wanted to discuss it with Belle, to see if he'd ever been like this before just to commiserate with someone who knew what they were going through, but Bae was attached to one or both of them at the hip unless he was physically in Dr. Hopper's office.

Still, by day five he'd pretty much reached his breaking point. He tagged along to Bae's appointment, even though so far he and Belle had been alternating days so they could at least work full days half the time.

"Was it ever like this before?" Arthur whispered to her the second the door closed behind Bae. "With the nightmares, I mean?"

"Yes and no," Belle replied softly. "He was like this before sometimes, but he was littler then so I kind of expected it. This..." she sighed. "I just don't know. I don't know how to help him."

He could hear the strain in her voice. It occurred to him then that this must be harder for her than him. Bae was clinging to her constantly now, and although Arthur would give anything to have their son need him as much as he needed Belle, he understood that she might need some respite from the stress herself.

"They'll find her soon," Arthur promised. "This can't go on forever."

She looked at him like she was about to reply, but his phone ringing stopped her. She focused on his phone like a hunting dog as he pulled it out. A quick glance at his call ID told him all he needed to know – this was the call they'd been waiting for from the police.

"Hello?" he answered, his hands shaking in anticipation.

"Is this Mr. Arthur Gold?" the voice on the other line said.

"Yes," he replied, wishing they'd just get on with it and tell him Milah had been found and all was finally well.

"Mr. Gold, this is Sheriff Humbert, I'm afraid I have some bad news," the voice on the other end said. Arthur's breath hitched and he glanced at Belle, anticipation written across her face in bold letters. If they were about to tell him they'd lost her again, Arthur wasn't sure what he was about to do.

"We've found your ex-wife," the sheriff continued. "She was hiding out with some of her old friends from before prison."

"So you have her in custody?" Arthur couldn't stop the smile that was spreading across his face and the relief he felt welling up in his chest. Belle, too, looked close to giddy. She had her hands cupped over her mouth and her eyes wide and fixed on him as though he were the most wonderful thing she'd ever seen in her life.

"That's what I'm trying to explain," the sheriff said somberly. "Mr. Gold, she's dead."

Arthur only heard snippets of what the other man said over the blood rushing in his ears – things like 'overdose' and 'no signs of foul play' washed over him. He would take these apart later in the safety of his own home. Belle was staring at him from the next chair, agitation evident on her face and he wanted to comfort her but his tongue was like lead in his mouth. The sheriff promised to be in contact if they learned anything else, and Arthur knew he said goodbye, but it still took him a minute to gather himself enough to put the phone down and face Belle.

"Arthur?" she said finally. "What's wrong?"

"Milah's dead," he blurted out. "They don't know if it was a suicide or just an accident, but she overdosed."

"Oh my God," Belle whispered. "What are we going to tell Bae?"

He shook his head, because the truth was he just didn't know. He wasn't sure how he was feeling about it himself, to be frank. He hated Milah the way he'd never hated another person, but there had been a time when he'd loved her. Eighteen years ago, he wasn't sure he'd ever love anyone as much as he did her. She'd been fun and funny and charming and had encouraged him to do more with his life. She'd maybe drank a little to much, but then so did most of their friends. It wasn't until the drinking became more and the party never quite ended that he realized she might have a problem, and by then it was too late for him to help her anymore. And now she was dead. The lovely, vibrant woman he'd fallen in love with had become a shell of herself by the end, and now she was lying in some morgue somewhere on a slab. And he had to tell the child he'd made with her that she was dead, and he would never know the woman who his father had loved.

He looked at Belle – at his son's mother – and tried to figure out how to tell her all this. She'd known her as Bae's birth mom, as a drug addict, and the woman who was trying to steal her son from her. He never got to try to explain, though. The office door opened and Bae emerged with his therapist and Belle stood up so fast that Arthur was dizzy watching her.

"Dr. Hopper, can I speak with you a moment?" she asked before the pair even had time to register that she'd moved.

"Yes, of course," the therapist said calmly even though it was clear that something was going on in the waiting room. "Bae, why don't you and your dad wait here for a minute, okay?"

Bae had to know something was up, but he just nodded and quietly went to his father. Arthur wasn't sure what he'd do if Bae asked him any questions while Belle was gone, but he didn't. He quietly picked up a magazine and flipped through it, glancing towards the door every so often. Belle emerged maybe five minutes later, a piece of paper in her hand and a determined look on her face.

"Sorry about that," she said with a smile that was just too bright and too cheerful to be genuine. "You guys ready to go home?"

Bae was, jumping up and holding her hand as they walked to the car. Arthur merely followed them out the door, still unclear on his place in this tight-knit group of her victims and still hurting. The drive home was mostly silent, but when they got to his house Belle finally spoke again.

"Before you start your homework," she said to Bae once they were in the living room. "Your dad and I have something we need to tell you."

"What is it?" Bae asked, glancing between his parents. Arthur couldn't look at his son.

Belle sat down, patting next to her and Bae blindly followed her instruction. Arthur sat nearby, watching them like an outsider – although in a way, he was. Milah hadn't victimized him the way she had them. She hadn't been a constant negative presence in his life. She'd hurt him, she'd drained him emotionally and financially and stolen his son away; but then she'd been gone. For Belle and Bae she'd been something that was hanging over their heads for Bae's entire life.

"Your dad got a call from the sheriff while you were at your appointment," Belle explained. "And they found your birth mom. Honey, she's dead."

Arthur had expected tears or hysterics – or maybe even relief – from Bae, but what he hadn't expected was the complete shut down that he now saw. Bae's face was completely calm, no sign that what his mother had told him was affecting him in any way.

"What happened?" Bae finally asked.

"She took a lot of drugs," Belle said after glancing at Arthur. "She probably went to sleep and didn't wake up."

Actually, she probably become incredibly agitated, had a seizure on the floor of a friend's basement and choked on her own vomit, but he didn't like that mental image any more than he liked the idea of giving it to Bae. He would take this with him to his grave if he had to.

"Why did she take the drugs?"

"I don't know, sweetheart," Belle said softly, stroking Bae's hair a little. She had tears falling silently onto her cheeks now, but Bae was still completely flat.

She'd taken them for a lot of reasons – because she was disappointed in her life, because it seemed fun, because she was never the sort of girl who backed down from a challenge, because the alcohol wasn't giving her the same thrill it used to, because she'd wanted more than being the bored housewife of an attorney, because her dad skipped out and her mom used to drink too much and had never told her she loved her – but none of those reasons had ever been something Bae needed to be burdened with.

"She was an addict," Arthur said finally. "She couldn't help herself but to take them, and sometimes when you do that you'll take too many."

"Oh," Bae said finally, seeming to try to parse this information. "Can I do my homework now?"

Belle nodded, letting her hand drop from her son's hair as he rose to his feet and took the stairs two at a time, slamming his bedroom door behind him.