Eli was a master of deception. 

He was Erik's son after all, and the art of disguising his true emotions and actions was not one he took lightly.  

As Clara thought his eyes fixed on the pieces of paperwork before him, his true observation lay on her. 

He carefully stared at her shaking hands, her pale, but well-rounded face with makeup and pleasing complexion drew him in with wonder as to what miraculous change had swept over her in the last two years. 

Breathtaking.

"Beautiful." he whispered in spite of himself.  

"Sorry?" 

He looked up ever so slightly, "These numbers, they're beautifully organized."

She nodded solemnly and he finished reading the forms over.

"Yes," he said blatantly. "These will suffice." 

He took a stamp bearing his name and pounded it onto the bottom of the paper. 

"His voice has gotten lower," Clara smiled to herself, "I didn't think that possible." 

"And how is your family Mr. Destler?" She said aloud with interest. 

Eli felt a sharp pain drive him through the heart, however, he dug his pointer fingers nail into his thumb and attempted to remain unaffected. 

"They're well. Except for our Winnie, who has decided as of this morning to run off with a frog to God knows where. I really am afraid I can't stay long." Eli noted glancing at the clock. 

Clara's eyes widened. 

"Winnie?!" She said rather too quickly with rather too much spirt. 

Eli looked at her intently, "Yes. What's wrong?" 

"Nothing," Clara said quickly, silencing her own thoughts. "Nothing Eli." 

Eli frowned and rose, drawing closer to her. "Chloe?" 

"Eli," she sighed, "Please don't make me do this." 

"No, for weeks, nay! for years, at the sight or mention of my sister, diversion or lies always take place at your hands." 

"Eli Please." Clara whispered, "I know nothing." 

Eli looked at her critically, her weakness of character appalling him and yet, all the same, he felt an admiration for her creeping up within his heart that drove him mad. 

Just when Claracfeared he might do something the like of firing her too, Eli briskly snatched his hat and cane. 

"You're welcome to join our family for supper," Eli said coldly, storming from the room. 

Clara gave a sigh of relief and collected her papers. 

What was she to do now?

--------

"Nowhere!" Erik groaned angrily storming in through the front door. 

Ilios ran to meet him, "Any sign?!" 

"We think she's still in the woods," Erik informed her, "There's been no sight of her in town." 

"And the fair?" Ilios asked nervously, "Did you-" 

"She's not there," Erik muttered. "Trust me I gave the owner some persuasion, to tell nothing but his whole truth on the matter." 

"Persuasion?" Ilios repeated slowly. 

"The rope kind," Erik muttered. 

"What?" 

"Nothing darling. All will soon be set right." 

"Erik?" Christine asked slowly coming out from their bedroom. 

"Christine I-" 

Before he could continue Christine, a mess of tears, rushed to him and kissed him passionately, removing his mask. 

"Christine?" 

"I love you," She sobbed, "Erik I love you." 

He put a hand to her face and wiped her tears with his thumb, "Christine what has-" 

"I know," She whispered, voice choked, "I know the danger, the risk you took loving that child and I swear Erik I will never-" 

"Mother," Ilios said slowly, "Mother Winnie is going to be alright." 

Erik stared at his wife, speechless, trying to process what was happening. 

Erik stared intently at his angel, who always seemed to bring him home, call on him with the music he heard in his mind and bring it to life before him, in every child, in every whisper and place. 

"Ilios go bring Wade his lunch," Erik said slowly, his eyes not leaving his wives. 

"All right," Ilios said her lip curling upward in confused disgust, "I'll leave to whatever it is you're doing. Like a Soap Opera, I swear." 

Erik helped his wife to the couch and sat her down, taking her warm hand in his chilled one. 

"Christine?" 

"I know about Winnie," Christine sobbed, taking her husband's hand tighter. 

Erik frowned and shook his head, "You can't." 

"Fred, he wrote me a letter, before we left Paris, fearing for my life. I didn't open it, I forgot, but I was looking through Winnie's things, things from Paris in our room and I-"

Erik fell to his knees before her, resting his head in her lap and startling her greatly. "Christine. Tell me what I supposed to do. What am I if not a monster?" 

"You're a man, and more than that," Christine laughed. "A good man." 

"What did I do to deserve you?" Erik whispered. 

"Everything," Christine cried, "I don't deserve you, Erik. I wake up everyday doubting your there. Doubting that this life we have is real." 

"But Winnie."

"Winnie, our Winnie, is our child." Christine said with a smile, "Our child."

"But Christine-" 

"We have loved that girl to death Erik." Christine said hoarsely, "We have done everything, loved her with everything. You more so than me." 

"That's not true," Erik said shaking his head. 

"But Erik," Christine pleaded, "The poor child is trying to live up to a standard she can never reach. Trying to be some musical, collected prodigy, when she's lost, Erik. She's just wandering through life in need of anyone's help." 

Erik gave a groan and closed his eyes, "Lost in more ways than one." 

"She reminds me of a man I knew once," Christine smiled, petting his hair, "A lost man, desperate for guidance, desperate for love." 

Erik's eyes raised upward filled with tears. 

She was his weakness, his greatest danger, losing her, the thought of losing her, shattered his confidence, his soul. 

He hadn't expected to be this affected by Winnie, hadn't thought he would feel this empty pain that was splitting his chest apart. 

"God on high," he whispered breathlessly, gripping Christine's hand and shutting his eyes tightly closed, "Bring our little girl back to us safely." 

Wade watched from the cracks in his floorboards, tears streaming down his face as he watched his parents devastated embrace. 

He lay limp on the floor, his eyes closed tightly and his Fathers prayer repeating in his mind. 

"Wade?" Winnie moaned, "Wade I know you're in there." 

"Go away Winnie! For God's sake." 

"Wade? Do you want to come to see the snow?" 

"Shut up. Let me be alright?"

"Wade Please," Winnie whimpered. 

"Winnie!"

 Wade couldn't contain his sorrow, he brought a hand to his mouth to muffle the hyperventilating sobs that though silent, wracked his entire body. 

The phrase repeated in his head a million times over. 

Not his sister. 

Not his sister. 

 It didn't matter, he loved her, was closer to Winnie than any other of his siblings. 

Only now did he realizes how little he knew her at all. 

It had been years. 

Wade undid the lock on his door and silently made his way downstairs. No one noticed as the young man made his way into his sister's room. He looked out her window, remembering well the paths he had attempted to take before during sleepless nights. 

"I'll fix this Winnie," he sighed looking over her lonely little room full of drawings and books. "I'll fix this."