I climbed into my car first thing that Tuesday morning and drove expeditiously down the road. I was on my way to Emma's. I had the strongest belief that Aimee would come back from Domino Doomsday, but if she didn't, if there was the slightest chance, I knew Emma would at least want to say her goodbyes.

I pulled up her driveway and hooted like a zany person until she came outside, in the rage I had instigated. I rolled down my window.

"Stefan? What are you doing here?" she queried, rancorously.

"Aimee's gonna be in France in a few hours. This may be your last chance to talk her, to say you're sorry." She watched me wordlessly. "Get in the car," I whispered, begged, and any resentment I may have shown was wiped clear from my features.

Her eyebrows rose and her eyes seemed to sparkle. "Just let me fetch something from my bedroom, it's important," she said. "I'll come back, I promise."

And so she did, no more than five minutes later. She hopped into the car and fastened her seatbelt, with a flat square shaped present sitting on her lap.

When we arrived, Molly let us in, clearly dejected because of the mere thought of today – the day before her birthday and Domino Doomsday. We would be leaving sometime that afternoon. Molly was also aware that Aimee and Emma were in a rough patch. I led her upstairs to Aimee's room. The door was open, but I knocked anyway. She was packing her clothes into the lime coloured suitcase on her bed. It was disheartening to witness, she was preparing for plan B: if Domino Doomsday was totally unstoppable, the only way to end it would be to let Abba 'keep' her. It wouldn't come to that. I wouldn't let it.

She heard the knock, turned around and saw me, and then Emma.

"Hi," she uttered, as casually as she could manage.

Emma's hands were shaking nervously. She tore the wrapping off of her own gift to Aimee, maybe it was a therapeutic reaction. She crumpled the paper and threw it into the dustbin, and then treaded towards Aimee slowly.

"This is for you;" said Emma, "early birthday present."

Aimee laughed melodically, tears falling from her eyes. I had never seen her like that.

"A Justin Bieber CD."

"From the day we won the league, remember? I told you to listen to more of him. It's stupid..."

"It's not stupid," she laughed again, and squeezed Emma tightly. "I really missed you."

"I think I missed you more," she sniffed. She was beginning to cry, too, "You're really brave, you know? I'm proud of you. And I'm so sorry for what I said." Aimee nodded, unable to speak. "Promise me that you'll come back... and that you'll listen to Bieber on the flight over?" she half joked.

They laughed together shortly, before Emma started helping Aimee to pack. I was about to join, but as Emma had said: "A girl's suitcase is private. Lingerie is a thing!"

About an hour later, we drove Emma home. They could say goodbye – a temporary goodbye – and I was grateful for that. With Moll and Clifford getting in some extra hours of training, Aimee's house would be empty. A worry struck me like an angry wasp, like I was incapable of leaving her without imagining the worst – imagining that Abba would take her again. So, I drove Aimee to Gavin's house, because he was the only one who could watch over her. And, I trusted him.

I had to leave for some convenient 'last day mission' as Buckley had so kindly called it. So, as much as I wanted to follow her into Gavin's apartment, I couldn't, I drove on.

I had a deep-pitted feeling that this last day mission was AIM related. Dominick and the twins accompanied me. Our destination was a pharmacy, and we had to retrieve something from inside, obviously something classified. The place was closed, although it was late enough in the morning and past opening hour. We got in through the roof, crawled through the vents, without any idea of what we were getting ourselves into. No amount of training could equip you for the element of surprise – our current enemy had that advantage – but we had our uncapped courage, our skills. We dropped down into an unlit office and checked the room for lasers, goggles on our faces like some Ghostbusters flick. No lasers, but something set off the alarm, sent it blazing through the walls.

"Okay," I said. "So, our new plan is to knock out anyone who comes through that door."

"Ay, ay, Captain!" Finn agreed enthusiastically, giving me a double thumbs-up.

Val and Dom nodded assuredly, but when the doors burst open, at least a dozen men rushed into the room. They were big, they were armed. One, who I guessed was their leader, was standing in front of them and staring me down with his one eye – ironically, the other was concealed by a patch.

"I know usually you get one chance to escape in such situations," he uttered. "But I'm not the generous type."

His voice was deep and creepy enough to send chills down my spine, but I shook it off. I gave him a confident smile.

"Okay then," I said. "Let's dance, shall we."