They knew her plan and had an idea of when it would play out, but still could not understand one thing: what was the purpose of blowing up an entire continent for the scrape of a chance that you would spend time with the daughter who officially despised you?

"But my birthday is months away," commented Aimee. "Abba made it seem as though we had to act with immediacy."

"I don't know... what we do know is that you need to rest," he reminded her of her exhausted state. "I'll talk to Buckley about this and come back, I promise."

"What about Celeste?"

"She could start on the floors," he half joked. It did not matter to him how she wished to kill time.

Aimee gave him a look of disapproval, "Fine. Let me walk you out."

She jumped off of her bed and walked to her door, which she remembered had to be unlocked. Stefan's distaste for Celeste, in some complicated way, upset Aimee. She had just lost her best friend and she felt misplaced. She already missed Emma; she did not have her anymore. And at the moment, she did not even have her parents to talk to. Gavin, well, he had been acting incredibly strange. She just needed someone she could trust and Celeste was the closest thing to that.

Aimee trotted downstairs, but came to a sudden stop halfway down the flight. Celeste was in the foyer, looking at the family photos on the coffee table. She spun around in alarm, and quickly rubbed her hands together as though for warmth, as though she had washed the dishes in an ice bath. Stefan stood a step above Aimee, watching Celeste calculatingly. Before Celeste spoke, she made certain that she had rid all evidence of her vulnerable expression and the tears that had accompanied it. Tears fuelled by a secret, one she could not hold nor bear to tell.

"I finished the dishes," she quickly stated, facing Aimee, still rubbing her hands like an insect. "I was just looking at the images you have of your parents."

"Okay," she replied, glancing first at Stefan, and then Celeste.

"So you're leaving, to train for Domino Doomsday?"

"You know about Domino Doomsday?" queried Aimee, her words quaking with the sudden, dreadful thought that she might have endangered herself and Stefan both by letting Celeste into her home.

"I just know that Abba wants you in France when it happens."

"Is that really all you know?" asked Stefan, as he swerved down the stairs and approached her. Aimee followed. "Talk to us, Celeste," he uttered, standing face-to-face with the girl and staring her down.

Discreetly, he ascertained whether or not there was something she was holding, or hiding, in her palms. She had her hands dropped incontestably at her sides, not in her pockets, as she peeked over Stefan's shoulder and at Aimee.

"Your boy's got a temper," she told her.

Stefan's searching eyes abandoned her hands, "No, I just don't like or trust you," he stated, smiling boldly.

Aimee drew nearer, "Just answer him," she demanded.

Celeste glanced between them as if they were police that she was to escape from, "Why should I?" she asked, but her nervousness was imperceptible.

"Would Abba be pleased if she knew that you're living with me instead of kidnapping me? She did already pay you to do so."

"If I tell you anything, she'll be even madder."

"But I won't be mad," she replied and stepped between her and Stefan, right up to Celeste's toes. "And I can tell you now; I'm a lot more dangerous than my mother."

"If that were true, wouldn't I be intimidated right now, Sweetie?"

Sweetie.

She hated being called sweetie, ever since 'that night'. Hearing Celeste say it then was enough to make her burn with anger. Had she been wrong to trust her? Her list of people to trust was shrinking and all she needed was for Celeste to fill a measly space. For a moment, Aimee did not feel like herself, and in that moment, she directed a punch unto Celeste's jaw. It was not robust, – consider that she used her right arm – but Celeste had a temper that no one knew about until then. Her eyes were reflectors of how vengeful she really was. Aimee immediately regretted her actions, but she was paralysed. Celeste smiled maliciously as she grabbed Aimee's arm and pulled her away and outdoors.

She swung her off the porch, and she thudded on the grass. Stefan was standing behind Celeste, but she was a blockade in the doorway. He had to push past her to get to Aimee, yet as he tried, Celeste's elbow rammed him in the stomach. He stumbled backward, holding in a scream. Celeste marched up to Aimee, expecting her to fight back as she threw her a round of punches. Aimee dodged the first fist that came her way, the second and the third, but her forth strike was a powerful thrust kick to her belly. Celeste's foot had collided with her in such a way that she flew backward through the air like a test torpedo. Aimee landed in a side roll and got to her feet skilfully. She glanced at Celeste, heated, before straightening up and charging at her. She tackled her down with her shoulder at Celeste's chest.

"You're not so tough," she panted as they hit the ground. "Ready to talk?"

"Pshht," she threw Aimee off of her – flat onto her chest – providing herself the room to do a backwards roll to a stand.

Aimee's eyes searched the doorway for Stefan, but he was not there anymore, so she turned her attention to Celeste and stood up promptly. Aimee gave her a few kicks to her jawline and stomach, all of which connected.

"Aimee!" Stefan suddenly intervened.

He threw her a miniature device that he had obtained somewhere in the house. Aimee caught it in both hands, and she then understood its relevance. It was Celeste's cellphone.

"Hand it over!" she squeaked.

"I'm trying again," uttered Aimee, "are you ready to talk?"

Celeste looked at her like she was a steaming bull at a rodeo and Aimee was the defenceless red flag. She gripped Aimee's arm, and hers desperately darted after the hand holding her phone. Aimee manoeuvred the phone away for as long as she could. Finally, the phone was in Celeste's grasp, just not for as long as she hoped. Stefan rapidly tackled her and stole it back. And for the first time, he heard Celeste moan in pain.

"You'll get this later," he said, standing up from her body and tucking her phone into his pocket.

Aimee stood up, too. Stefan could hear her shaky exhales.

"Are you really going to look through my phone?" asked Celeste, agitatedly.

Aimee walked up to Stefan and kept her eyes on him, until Celeste regained her footing and received both their glances.

"Naturally," replied Stefan.

"Then I'll have to show you something first, give it here," she said. Stefan grunted mutedly, raised an eyebrow. "Please, Stefan," she implored, not as kindly as she could have, but implore she had, nonetheless.

Stefan tried to walk away when Aimee grabbed him by his upper arm.

"Wait... just give it to her," she requested.

He did not reply. He needed to collect his thoughts – either to agree to those thoughts or to Aimee's incautious command. Without a comment, he passed her the phone, making it opaque how much he did not want to. However, Aimee and Celeste appreciated his decision.

"Thank you," they chorused unintentionally.

He only nodded with his eyebrows.

"So, what's your confession?" enquired Aimee, but she received no answer. Celeste was typing on her phone and Aimee realised it, "Hey!"

She snatched the phone back and focused on the screen. It displayed nothing but a loading bar, for a second. Deleting 32 images...

No images.

"You can't be serious," she uttered, feeling deeply defeated by her own nonsensical will to have faith in Celeste.

She was too late. For what, she had no clue, but she knew it had to have been important. Maybe those 32 images bore information on AIM, or Domino Doomsday, or Molly and Clifford. The possibilities of what they could have been were infinite. Stefan trotted to Aimee's side. She carelessly dropped the phone, but he caught it reflexively in his hand. She walked up to Celeste, fists clenched, but she did not dare to do anything. Celeste was of little use unconscious.

"What are you hiding?!" exclaimed Aimee. "Tell me!"

Celeste staggered backward with terror in her eyes. She tripped over her own feet and fell onto the ground. Aimee had not stopped coming closer. Stefan was forced to throw the now insignificant device in his hand onto the grass and hold Aimee back.

"As much as I dislike her – mmf!" he grunted, she was squirming in his grip, "Aimee. Aimee!"

"She's hiding something!"

"Don't hurt her! Please!" he begged.

"Why not?!" she wriggled out of his arms and turned to him, he grabbed her at her arms again.

He breathed, "Because this isn't you!"

He rested his forehead on hers. Slowly, her breaths regained their regular pace. Stefan's hands caressed her arms and ran down to her fingertips, before he squeezed her hands gently.

"Now, go inside. You don't have to train today," he soon whispered to her.

"Yes, I do."

He moved his head away. The warmth of his forehead disappeared from hers.

"There's still tomorrow and any day after that."

"Until my birthday... I have to be more than ready," she did not struggle to smile. "Celeste, if you touch or steal anything or even think about betraying us, I will hunt you down!"

Celeste stood up, "Wouldn't dream of it," she affirmed.

She walked over to her phone and picked it up from the ground, before disappearing into the house. Aimee had a look in her eyes that made Stefan realise he really could not persuade her stay. So, they headed to GINM.