Chris awoke to the dull sound of piano music. The digital clock on the nightstand read 5:30. He'd slept through most of the afternoon, and it was already dark outside. He sat up and flipped on the bedside light.

Morgan then landed on the pillow beside him. "Daddy! You're finally up."

"Sorry, kiddo. I'm a little tired today. Hey, where's your brother?"

"There he is. See?" Morgan pointed to a small blob in the corner of the room by the ceiling. "Are we going to find Uncle Joe now? And the princess? Do you think they hear the music, too?"

"Uncle Joe is probably playing the music." Chris waved Ryan over to the bed. "Yeah, we'll go see them, but I want to talk to you first," he said as Ryan landed next to his sister on the pillow. "Why don't you two sit down?"

It was time to tell them about their mother, but he didn't know where to start. He looked down at his two fairy children. Sitting, they were no larger than half dollars with wings. Their eyes, though, were as thoughtful and expectant as always. They may have known more about what was going on than he'd initially thought. Chris was just too preoccupied with his own misery to notice theirs.

"Is this about Mommy?" Ryan asked with the threat of tears already in his voice.

"Yes."

Morgan was sniffling, but it wasn't enough to control her sobs. "Did the bad men in our house hurt her?" she choked out.

Chris nodded, not able to speak the words.

"Is she dead?"

Chris was caught off guard by Ryan's question. He had not been sure if his children were old enough to understand the concept of death. That was why he had hesitated to tell them in the first place. But they were growing up fast, maybe even faster due to all the things they'd seen and heard. And they had a right to know the truth. Chris nodded again, this time with tears in his own eyes. "I'm sorry. You just have me now."

Ryan looked angry, disappointed maybe, but Morgan flitted into the air and hovered beside his face. She cupped one of Chris's tears and lifted it from his cheek. For a moment, she held on to the bead of water as if it had mystical powers. "Don't cry, Daddy. She'll always be with us."

He smiled ruefully and wiped the lingering tears from his eyes. "I hope so, and that's just what I needed to hear." He opened his palm for Morgan and Ryan to land on. "I love you," he said as he lifted them to eye level. He kissed his free pinky finger and touched it to their rosy little cheeks. "And don't you two forget it!"

After that, they all needed a few moments to compose themselves. Longer than that, really, but they had to continue to carry on like nothing was wrong. Chris had to admit his children were much better at the façade than he was.

With his kids in his front sweatshirt pocket, Chris followed the music to a den behind the main stairs. He went inside and leaned on the side of the grand piano.

He stared at Joe's fingers gliding across the keys until everything went blurry. He zoomed back in when he spotted movement on the piano's music stand. Cassie was sitting there with her legs dangling in front of her.

Chris then directed his attention to the doorway. He waited for some sign Gretchen was nearby and there wasn't one.

"Look who finally decided to join us," Joe said.

"Sorry, I fell asleep. I didn't even hear the piano until a few minutes ago. What'd I miss?"

"Not much. Gretchen had to run an errand and then was going to pick up dinner. I'm just entertaining the princess here. What do you think of jazz, small one?"

"It makes me want to dance." Her feet kicked back and forth but came to an abrupt stop with the tilt of her head. Chris became the object of her intuition. Is everything all right?

He could practically hear the words.

Chris forced a quick smile and turned to Joe before she could figure out more. "Does Gretchen know you're in here?"

"No, but I don't think she'll send me to bed without supper for playing the piano. Relax, Chris."

"I am relaxed," he insisted. "All right, fine. I'm a little on edge," he finally conceded. "Do you think we're safe here for the night or should we take off while she's gone?"

"I think we'll be fine until morning." Joe ended his song and started to play a louder, more upbeat tune. "You do know where we're headed tomorrow, right, Chris? Aloha, baby!"

"You really think he's still in Hawaii?"

"Well, there are a few reasons to look in to it."

"What reasons are those?" Cassie shouted so they could hear her over the music. "I'm a little lost, as usual."

"Gretchen mentioned it, obviously, and we lived there for a summer about. . ." Joe lifted his eyes to the ceiling as he tried to recall how much time had elapsed.

"Thirteen years ago," Chris said for him without the need to think.

"Chris remembers," Joe continued, eyes back on the princess, "because he met Alana there. My guess is some of these things are connected. And if it doesn't pan out, Hawaii is a much nicer—and safer—place to wander around aimlessly than New England is in the winter."

Joe changed the mood and speed of his music again. His new song was slower and less cheerful. "Before we jump on a plane, I think we should first discuss our goals. We could pursue these weak leads and hope we don't leave a trail and get trapped somewhere. Or . . . we could find a secluded place to live, somewhere no one would suspect. Chris and I could return to the human world or we could work out some fairy-human combination. We would just have to be more careful. Cassie. . ." Joe put his hand to his chin as he assessed the tiny creature who no longer had any suitable home to go to. "you could be like our . . . secret pet!"

Cassie folded her arms and looked away from Joe's grin. "I will never be anyone's pet."

Wrong move, Joe. . .

"I can't return to anything that resembled my old life," Chris said, moving everyone past the misstep. "I'm a wanted man no matter where I go. We could try to disappear. But, then what? I can't raise my kids in hiding. What kind of life is that? I want my freedom back. I want the twins to be able to decide for themselves where to live and what to do with their lives. And we won't have that until Andromeda is out of the picture. Joe, if you're ready to walk away, I completely understand. I won't hold it against you. I'd rather not go to Hawaii, either. It is a weak lead, and Alana's death isn't going to help us out. But it's all we've got. And I have to see this thing through to the end, whatever that end may be."

"Well said, Chris. You have my support. I'll go where you go," Cassie announced. "I've never experienced freedom and though we are in a race against time and evil, I now have a better sense of what it could be like if victory were ours."

"Well, when you both put it like that, I'm in too, all the way," Joe said.

Everyone tensed when a door opened.

"Gretchen's home. Back we go, Princess," Joe whispered as he put Cassie in his breast pocket.

Once Joe was playing some jazz again, Gretchen wandered in. "Dinner is here," she said, then leaned on the piano next to Chris and listened in for a few minutes. "I see you have your mother's talent, Joe. But she preferred Beethoven."

"I can do Beethoven." Joe gave her a confident smile and started to play Beethoven's Moonlight Sonata.

That one, Chris recognized. He had heard it a zillion times in his youth. Joe could probably play it backwards and three times as fast.

"I don't get to play that much anymore. I am a little rusty, but it's like riding a bike."

"If this is you out of practice, you can hardly tell," Gretchen said. "Well, the sushi is in the kitchen whenever you're ready to eat."

"Thanks, Gretchen. We'll be right in."

She stepped away from the piano and left the room.

Chris grimaced once she was out of sight. "Sushi? You didn't campaign for something better?"

"Does it look like she eats cheeseburgers?" Joe said, bobbing his head at the doorway where Gretchen was last seen. "Son of a fisherman and you won't eat sushi. Figure that one out."

They soon joined Gretchen in the kitchen and took the same seats they'd had earlier. Beverages, plates, napkins, and chopsticks were distributed.

While Chris tried to consume a few pieces of sushi with the help of copious amounts of sparkling water, Joe was entertaining his aunt with funny stories from their youth and adolescence.

After dinner, Joe and Chris pitched in to clean up—the housekeeper was off until after the New Year—and then they chatted around the piano for a while before going their separate ways.

Chris closed his bedroom door and put his children to bed in the nightstand drawer, leaving it open a crack. After an excessively hot shower, he turned on the television and appreciated an hour or so of feeling normal before he turned out the lights.

But, as tired as he was, normal wouldn't let him sleep. Not well. That's because he wasn't normal. Not anymore. Never would be. And in truth, he never was. And that meant he was a fool for trying to sleep.

Would their fairy pursuers sleep? No. Not until he was dead. Not until they were all dead. Every last MacRae. Every known associate.

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