A Touched by an Angel / Beauty and the Beast crossover story

And ‘The Wind Will Guide Me’ continuation

By: Yvette Jessen

© 2002 not intended to infringe on any previously held copyrights.

Part 1

Travis Parks stood on the balcony of his friend’s apartment overlooking the city. It had been a week since he had moved out of his father’s apartment. He had enjoyed the first week of his new job, and he liked the fact that he could finally have some time to himself. Behind him, three angels were standing and watching his actions.

The two women and the man each carried a look of contemplation on their faces, but no words were spoken, they merely watched, their eyes filled with the utmost empathy and kindness. It was no secret, they had been watching over Travis' younger sister, Melissa for the past several months, but none of them had come into the lives of her or her family until now, and each one of them understood that this special girl needed some divine intervention in the most profound way.

Their attention was diverted to the actions taking place before them as Travis' friend Scott came into the apartment, his voice filtering through the small living room. "Hey dude! Where are you?"

“On the balcony,” he said and turned around.

Scott came outside, his waist length brown hair blowing in the gentle New York breeze. “Listen, I know you had asked me to check the apartment ads for you, but I thought you might want to see this, I found it in the paper this morning after you had gone to work.”

“What is it?”

“Well, take a look, it’s about your kid sister,” Scott said.

Travis accepted the newspaper and followed Scott back inside. “Poet Melissa Parks Disappears” was splashed across a headline. Beneath it, was, what appeared to be a paparazzi style photograph of his sister.

As he read the article, he sighed deeply. “Maybe I shouldn’t have left,” he said softly as he put the paper back on the table.

“Listen, you told me about what had been happening with your old man, and I don’t blame you a single bit for wanting to split,” Scott said running his hand through his hair. “Besides, you’re not the one who should have to answer for her.”

“You don’t understand, Scott, Missy’s only 12, I mean, she’s a kid and I was all she had,” Travis said. “I think it was selfish of me to just up and leave her like that.”

“All I know about this is that you’ve been griping for years about how you felt like a slave in that stupid shop. I mean you basically had to make an appointment a month in advance to even get out of there for an afternoon. Sure I feel for your kid sister, and even my dad says that it was a raw deal for her, but it was also one for you. Travis, you’re my best friend, and you and I both knew that it was eventually going to come to this.”

“I know,” Travis said. Deep inside he knew that his friend was right, but he still felt guilty for what was happening. “The fact is, I still feel responsible for her.”

“OK, but if you still want to do something about it, why don’t you go visit this lawyer chick that she was staying with over spring break? I mean if anything, she’ll probably know where Missy is, and she probably can put your mind at ease,” Scott said.

“Maybe you’re right, Missy did tell me to keep the address,” Travis replied. “So you think I should go there and see what's going on?”

“It would be a good idea, and it might make you feel better,” Scott offered.

Travis stood up and turned as though he intended to walk towards the front door. His friend could clearly see the worried look crossing his face, and instead of going into detail about the hopelessness of the situation with Missy, he took a deep breath and spoke.

"Hey Travis, I nearly forgot to tell you," he finally called thus causing Travis to stop and turn around. "I think I may have found you an apartment.” He reached for the paper and opened it to the back page where the classifieds were listed. As soon as he found it, he spread it out across the table and Travis looked down at where Scott was pointing. “It’s right here listed, but it says that it's on the Eastside not too far from where you work, it's a one bedroom, but you said that that was all you really needed.”

“Yeah?” Travis asked but when he saw it, his face fell. “It would be perfect, but I would need a $1,200 deposit. You know I don’t have that kind of cash.”

"Well, if they have a one-bedroom, maybe they also have a studio apartment, you know they probably don't want to list everything, it would seem to obvious," Scott reasoned. "Besides, you should really consider borrowing the money you were saving for Missy."

“That’s her money, Scott, I won’t go there,” Travis said assuredly.

“No, I don't mean swiping it, I mean, you just borrow the money you need. Since the money from the book sales have come in, you use that to pay the deposit, and then when you get paid at the station, you can put the money back a little at a time. I mean; it's not like your stealing it, but from what this article has said, she may not come back to claim it when she's 18 anyway,” Scott said shrugging his shoulders.

“Don’t ever say that, you know she’s the only family I have left,” Travis said angrily as he felt tears brimming from beneath his eyes.

“I’m sorry Travis, that just slipped out,” Scott said shrugging his shoulders.

Travis nodded numbly as he walked towards the front door. He wasn't necessarily angry with his friend, it was just that Scott's words seemed to have too much truth in them and that was what was bothering him.

“Hey, where you going?”

“I’m taking your advice, Scott, I’m going to see Missy’s friend, Catherine,” Travis said. “I’ll be back later, maybe I can find out once and for all what is going on.”

Scott nodded as his friend opened the door. “Hey, Travis?”

He turned around from where he stood in the doorway. “Yeah?”

“I’m really sorry about what I said,” Scott said. “It was completely out of line.”

“Don’t worry about it, I only reacted because I see too much truth in your words,” he stepped outside and closed the door behind him.

Out in the hallway, he pulled Catherine’s address from his pocket and walked with weighted steps towards the elevator.

~*~*~*~*~

The angels were left standing in the hallway after Travis had left, none of their faces had changed since arriving at Scott's apartment, and the pretty auburn headed woman watched the young man disappear through the doorway and descend a flight of stairs. "Tess, I know we've been watching this family for some time now, but what's really happening here with them? Are we here to help Missy and Travis come back together or is that really beyond repair?"

"Well, as you said, Miss Wings, we have been watching the goings on with this family, but keep in mind, nothing in God's world is beyond repair. He can take the most insignificant concept, change it and turn it into something precious and beautiful, so I have a feeling with this brother and sister, He's got something wonderful in mind for them as well." Tess replied and she looked over at the blonde headed man who was standing next to them, but when he said nothing, she simply continued speaking. "This is what is going to happen, Monica, you're going to be working at a magazine here in New York called 'Expression', I'm going to be the land lady the Eastside Apartments."

Monica looked over at the man, who was still quiet, and she cast a concerned glance in his direction. It was certainly not like him to not say anything. "What is Andrew going to be doing?" She finally asked.

"All I can tell you is that Andrew will be right at the root of the problem," Tess began as she took a deep breath and looked at her two angelic charges. "I can see that this is a little confusing for you two, so I'm going to start over and tell you what is going on. You remember about three months ago, Melissa and Travis were both living with their father and two brothers near Central Park. Melissa's mother had died over seven years ago, and instead of grieving for the wife he lost, Mr. Parks decided to delve himself into his work, thus leaving his little girl alone much of the time, and resenting her for reasons none of us are aware of. Melissa is a poetic prodigy and she has been writing poetry as a way of silently grieving her mother since she was nine-years-old."

Monica nodded as Tess continued. "As you know, Melissa was always called Missy, and it was during the time that she started reciting her poetry in school, that the other kids started to belittle and jeer at her, calling her 'Missy the sissy'."

"And then she met Vincent and Catherine," Monica said as the story started pulling itself together.

"Don't forget Jacob Wells," Tess said smiling at the mere mention of the older man who was the patriarch of the tunnel community. The wise angel really liked this man, he was stern in ways that paralleled her own personality, but he had a gentle nature that reminded her often of Andrew.

"I remember how I would be at her apartment and she would pray to have someone love her the way Vincent and Jacob did, even though it took Jacob quite some time to warm up to her being there," Monica said softly.

"That's right, it was around that time that Vincent and Catherine started to see a great deal of potential in her writing, so they took one of her poems, and submitted it to a contest, and when she won, she was given the chance to publish a book of poetry. But, this was a two-edged sword for that little girl. Because of her age, she was acclaimed an instant celebrity, and later she was even stalked by reporters. Catherine and Vincent helped her get through all of that, but what is important to realize, Angel Babies, is that Missy, no matter how good she is at writing poetry, there's still a big hole in her life, and that's where we're going to come in. Not only are we going to help her brother Travis get back on his feet, but we're also going to show them both that they need each other, that they are family and they can work through any difficulty together, if they but give themselves the chance."

Monica smiled, but after a few moments, she looked at Andrew. It struck her as odd that he had not said a single word throughout this entire dialogue and she reached over and touched his shoulder, her overwhelming concern becoming completely evident in her next question. "Andrew, is everything OK?"

Andrew shook his head but said nothing. He merely shifted his weight uncomfortably, and seconds later, instead of being dressed impeccably, he was wearing a dirty black overcoat, ripped blue jeans and a brick red colored t-shirt. Without a word to his two friends, he ambled away leaving Monica and Tess standing and watching as he went in the direction of Central Park without even looking back.

Monica watched as one of her best friends disappeared in the distance. "Tess, what's wrong with Andrew, and where is he going?"

"He's going to the park, and Monica, there's something you need to know about him right now. He's mute," Tess said softly.

"Mute?" Monica looked at her friend with obvious surprise shadowing her face. "Why would God make Andrew mute?"

Tess shook her head. "I really don't know why, Miss Wings, but He knows and we're going to have to trust Him on this one."

Monica, continued to stare after her friend, but when Tess started to walk away, she shrugged her shoulders reluctantly and started to follow her supervisor down the street and when they reached a large glass building, the elder of the two angels motioned with her hand that she was to go inside, and as she did, she nearly ran straight into Andy Hudson, who was coming out of the building.

The young reporter had suddenly stopped as though he realized that he had forgotten something, but instead of dwelling on this, he offered Monica a friendly smile.

"I'm sorry," she said softly as she glanced back in Tess' direction to see if she was supposed to enter the building. When Tess nodded, she reached over with the intention of opening the door, but Andy had already done so and was holding the door open for her. "Thank you," she offered with a smile.

Once they were both inside, he spoke. "It's nothing." He offered her a cordial smile as he followed her through the lobby and in the direction of the elevators.

"Excuse me," she spoke once they were both standing next to the elevators and waiting for it to reach the floor and the doors to open. "Could you please tell me what floor the literary magazine 'Expression' is on?"

"Fourteen, but there's nobody else there tonight. They usually close early on Friday afternoons. But, if you want, I can show you around," he said smiling at the angel. "I work there. My name is Andy Hudson," he said as he extended his hand towards her.

"Monica," she replied.

"OK, I'm guessing from your name that you're the new reporter from upstate, right?" Andy asked.

"Yes," she smiled and nodded as the doors opened and the two of them got out on the floor where the magazine's offices were located. "You could say that I'm sort of on hiatus down here."

"It's always nice to have some new folks around," he said. "Sorry that Mr. Franklin isn't here this evening, but he got called away this afternoon. He should be back on Monday, though. He's the editor, by the way, a good guy, and very serious about publishing a quality literary journal."

"Thank you, Andy, you've been very helpful," she said smiling.

"My pleasure, maybe we'll get to work together," he said as he went into an office and retrieved a hard cover book. Once he had tucked it in the pocket of his briefcase, he joined her out in the hallway.

"Did you forget something, is that why you came back up with me?" She eventually asked him.

"Yes, guilty as charged. I had gotten an autographed copy of The Wind Will Guide Me and wanted to read some of it over the weekend. Mr. Franklin said that I needed to get my transcript finished up, and I sort of need this book to do it," he said smiling as he retrieved the book once again and showed it to the young caseworker.

"It's a lovely picture," Monica said, as she looked at the picture that adorned the cover. It was a photograph of a tree whose limbs were blowing in the breeze and leaves of many autumn colors were drifting across the cover. It seemed the most fitting cover for a book about the wind being a guide, Monica thought as she turned the book over and looked inside the back jacket. When she saw the photograph of a young girl, she looked at him. "Is this the author? She looks so young."

"Her name is Melissa, uh, I call her Missy, and I've been asked to write all the articles for 'Expression' about her. I guess because she's a friend of mine, and Mr. Franklin doesn't want just anyone interviewing her."

"Sounds like she's been through a lot," Monica said sympathetically, and something in her words was a strong indication to Andy that she could be trusted. Instead of ponder this; he looked at the lovely woman standing next to him.

"You know, I guess I shouldn't be telling you this stuff, but I think I can trust you," he took a deep breath.

"I think you know you can," Monica said softly. "After all, we will be working for the same publication."

He nodded and smiled. "Missy has been really raked over the coals because of being so young, she's 12 now, but she's a poetic prodigy. You read any of her poetry and you see a wisdom that can't be compared with anything else. She is so mature about things, but I sometimes think…" his voice trailed off and he shook his head.

"That perhaps she uses the wisdom to hide away from the pain?" Monica asked.

Andy nodded. "Yeah, she's been like this since the first day we met. I should tell you about it, because it's pretty fascinating. I had been sent to see her right after her book was released…"

Andy's Flashback

“Miss Parks, do you have a minute to answer some questions?” Andy had been standing near the front door of the apartment building and when he saw Missy coming up the steps, he smiled cordially at her.

“I suppose,” she said softly.

“I have read your book, and I think your writing is wonderful,” he said sincerely.

“Thank you,” she said weakly.

“Are you sure I’m not bothering you, I could always come back later?” he asked causing her to look up. He was nothing like the usual reporters that had been hounding her during the past weeks. Something compelled her to take a good look at him. He had pale green eyes and dark brown hair, and stood about six feet tall. He seemed to be about 30 years old, and was holding a small tape recorder in one hand, a copy of her book in the other.

“Why don’t you come up, it looks like rain?” she said smiling weakly as she looked at the sky.

“If it isn’t too much trouble,” he said. “My name is Andy Hudson, and I work for the literary magazine ‘Expression’.”

She shook hands with the young reporter and opened the door.

As they walked up the stairs and into the apartment, she tossed her backpack onto the sofa and turned to face him. “Make yourself at home, I’m going to get something to drink, would you like anything?”

“No, thanks,” he said smiling as he sat down on the sofa. Internally, he thought a tea would have been nice, but he did not wish to overstay his welcome.

When she returned, she sat down across from him, a glass of lemonade in her hand. “So, what would you like to know?”

“Well, first, off the record. Why did you invite me up?” He asked.

“I don’t know,” she said, “I guess because you seem different from the other people who have interviewed me.”

“How do you mean?” He asked.

“Well, in the last two months, since the announcement came down...” Her voice trailed and she blushed slightly.

“Do you mind if I tape this?”

“No,” she said and began again once he had started recording their conversation. “Since the announcement came down, I have been asked so many questions, and often the people asking have been rude and obtrusive. They have written more into my words than what was there, and they have tried to ask me for meanings that I wish not to discuss. You seem different is all; somehow more gentle.”

Andy shifted, “thank you. I’m really glad that you agreed to this interview. I must tell you, I started at the magazine some two weeks ago, I’m new there, and this story is my first real assignment. I didn’t want to come across trying to impose on you, but I also knew that my editor would not be pleased if I showed up at your building and had no chance to speak to you.”

Missy smiled weakly at his apparent honesty. “I wouldn’t wish to get you into any kind of trouble, so I guess I’m ready to answer your questions.”

Andy cleared his throat. “First of all, I really appreciate that you are talking to me, and I want you to know right off that this is not about what the meanings of your work is, it’s about you, the person,” Andy began. “I want to make it clear that you are not obligated to answer any questions if you feel uncomfortable about it, OK?”

She nodded.

“How did you get started writing?” he asked.

“I was 9-years-old at the time. My mother had died when I was 5 and I wanted to honor her memory somehow. So, I started writing poetry about her, all the memories I had of her came out in the verses I wrote. Then when things started getting bad at school, I discovered that I had started writing about everything that I felt was significant; loneliness, heartbreak, love, friendship, just about any topic that touched me,” she answered.

“Did it help you?” he asked.

“Yes, it did,” Missy began. “I found solace in writing, found it to be addictive in some ways. I would get inspired in strange places, and have to stop whatever it was I was doing and write.”

“Do you write about specific people or emotions?”

“I write about both, but mostly my poems are centered around emotional ties I have with either people or ideas,” she answered. “To say that one person or idea inspires me is absurd, because I can be inspired by abstract things like a rainbow or a sandy beach. I suppose it’s how one looks at things.”

“You mentioned school, how were things for you at school?” Andy asked.

“The poetry I had kept to myself until I started junior high last year. When I tried to share it, I suddenly became the outcast, pushed around and insulted, treated as though I had no feelings or didn’t belong. It was hard, the other kids called me ‘Missy the sissy’ believing that their words gave them power over me. I realized some time ago, that they did not because I refused to allow it to happen. But, these words hurt more than a fist ever could, because they scarred my spirit, leaving me to feel insignificant and humiliated. I was lonely much of the time, only spending my afternoons trying to find peace in writing, all the while searching...”

“Searching? What were you searching for?” Andy asked.

“A friend, a true friend, someone who would understand the pain I was in, and would accept me for the person I am,” she answered.

“Did you ever find that?”

“Yes, but don’t want to elaborate, as this publicity is bad enough for me, I could not subject my friends to it by naming names,” she said softly hoping her blunt answer would not offend him.

“The poem ‘Treasured Friend’, was that written for what you had found?” he asked.

“Yes,” she said softly but said nothing more. She reached for her glass and took a sip of her lemonade all the while, waiting for his next question.

“It’s a beautiful piece, and if one person could call me their Aslan, then I would be deeply honored,” he said, and cleared his throat. From looking at her, he knew that he would not get any further comments on this particular poem. “OK, next question, what do you enjoy besides writing?”

“I love poetry, not just writing it, but reading it. If I could write only one percent as good as Shakespeare, I would be ecstatic,” she said. “I used to read his sonnets when I was lonely, and I found that if I read them, then if I was sad, I would feel happy, but if I was happy, I would feel joy.”

“It’s not often that one so young can see such depth in Shakespeare, how did this come about?” he asked.

“I don’t really know, I guess it started when I had seen A Mid-Summer Night’s Dream with my family,” she grinned sheepishly. “My dad had said something about taking my older brothers to see it, and I had wanted to go too. He then said that it might be dull for me because I probably wouldn’t be able to understand it. I started wondering if it was possible for a nine-year-old to comprehend it, so I went to the library and checked it out. It took me days to read it, but then right before my father went and got the tickets, I went and told him what it was about, and he was shocked,” she paused smiling at the memory. “Later, I started reading the sonnets, and other plays, and through them, I got into other poets, Elizabeth Barrett Browning, Robert Frost, and so on.”

“Who is your favorite, besides Shakespeare?” Andy asked.

“It’s kind of hard to answer that, there are so many good poets. I think Robert Frost, because I love the poem The Road Not Taken.”

“Why is that?”

“I guess it’s because, I have chosen that road less traveled by. I know what it feels like to be different, and sometimes it’s hard and it hurts. I have seen things through both sides. I was once considered an outcast because of who I am; and now I am walking among false friends because I have suddenly become popular. In all honestly, I cannot determine which is worse,” she answered.

“Please elaborate,” he asked, quickly becoming entranced with her words.

“My wish would be to walk undisturbed down the street, to see my friends smiling and waving to me at the other end, and not see people trailing behind us with the hopes of asking me the meaning behind my work. Imagine not being able to go and see your friends because you feel deep in your heart, that though your dream has come true, you cannot impose on them the attention they do not crave. It has been two months since I learned that my poem had won the contest through Varient Publishers, and though I am overjoyed that I have the chance to write professionally, I have found a deeper loneliness in my heart, because those who hurt me when I was down, are now knocking at my door hoping to taste this superficial celebrity that seems to have encompassed me,“ she paused and looked up. “I do not want to come across arrogant, but every person in this world needs to know that a friend will stick by them through all times, not kick them when they are down, only to come back later and wish to help them back to their feet when times are good.” She took another sip of the lemonade.

“You have pretty much had your fill of fair-weathered friends, haven’t you?”

“Yeah, they used to tease me, calling me names. One boy tripped me in the cafeteria, and then the same day this other person caused me to have a bloody nose in the middle of a kickball game in gym class. Afterwards, I was too embarrassed to talk about it, but then one of my real friends said to me that it was important that I realize that a friendship is an honor and that he would stand by me no matter what happened. He was there for me during some of the most painful parts of my life and he accepted me even though I was an outcast,” she paused. “After the announcement came down, those people who had humiliated me suddenly came to me and wanted to be my friends, but they never were, they were friends with this so-called ‘celebrity status’ but not with me, not ever with me.”

“What would you like to tell the readers?”

“To accept people and not base it on appearance or status, but rather, what is in here, in one’s heart,” as if by impulse, she put her hand over her heart. “I have tried in the last months to be a friend, and to help those who are faced with the same thing I was. One never knows what will happen in the future; today’s outcast might be tomorrow’s celebrity,” she paused. “Those people who teased me need to learn that strength is not measured in how many people they can shove around, or how popular one is, but it is measured in the heart and how many people are really there when they need them.”

Andy nodded as he turned off the tape recorder.

“I think this has been the most fulfilling interview I have ever conducted,” he said. “You give people a lot of food for thought,” he said extending his hand to her. “If I could have my way, I would post your interview tomorrow. Unfortunately, it’s going to take some time, at least a month before our next issue will hit the stands.”

“I enjoyed this interview, too,” she said honestly. “Thank you, Mr. Hudson.”

“Please, call me Andy,” he said quickly and fished his card out of his pocket. “If you have anything further to say, feel free to call me. I will come back so you can see the transcript before this goes to print, OK? We’re going to work together on this, I won’t betray your trust.”

Andy's Flashback End

"Since then, every time I've written something about her, I've shown it to her before going to print, and she has been completely honest and straightforward about what she likes and what she doesn't," he smiled weakly at her. "I guess Mr. Franklin as well as the others at 'Expression' have taken Missy under their wing, so to speak. I mean; we all know she's young, we know she's been hurt seriously, so we just won't do anything that could leave long-term damage.

Monica nodded and as they walked towards the elevators, she realized that she really liked Andy Hudson and could see the utmost sincerity in the young man's demeanor.

As soon as they came downstairs, she said good-bye to Andy and rejoined her supervisor. "Tess, is Andy Hudson my assignment?" She finally asked once they had reached a small café and had gone inside.

"He is connected to your assignment, Miss Wings and like he said; he and Missy are friends," Tess began. "However, there is one thing you have to understand and that is whatever he decides to do with regards to the articles he writes about her, he will have an impact on her."

"Tess, he seems perfectly conscientious about this, so why does he need an angel?"

"Well, Andy has a story of his own, and that boy is going to need an angel to help him face a part of the truth. Missy has reminded him in some ways of this."

"Are you saying that I'm not going to meet Missy at all?" Monica asked, the disappointment evident in her face. Based on what she had been told about the young girl, she really was anxious to meet her.

"I'm not saying that Miss Wings, what I am saying is that the role you play here will have an indirect influence on what happens to Missy."

"But, this is like playing a game without knowing the rules," Monica objected.

"Now, don't go and underestimate your influence here," Tess began. "Do you remember what happened some time ago at Flynn's?"

Monica's face paled, but she nodded as she remembered the restaurant she and Tess had visited when she was having one of the worst days of her existence. She had been in a bad mood, and her attitude had caused what some would call, a chain reaction of negative events that spread throughout an entire restaurant. It was a domino affect that spread from one person to the next over the course of the evening, all of it starting with Monica and ending with a grieving woman who had been considering suicide. "You're saying that how I approach these people will indirectly leave an affect all of those they come in contact with?"

"Now, you've got it," Tess smiled proudly at the younger caseworker. "Now, if you have no more questions, I have to get to the Eastside Apartments and get ready for a visit from a young man named Travis Parks. Don't worry, the Father is in complete control here, and He knows that you're the best angel for the job."

Monica nodded numbly as Tess disappeared. Once the elder of the angels was gone, she made her way slowly down the street in the direction of an apartment building where she would be living for the duration of this assignment.

~*~*~*~*~

At the same time, below the streets of New York, in the security of an underground world, Melissa Parks was sitting alone in her chamber flipping through some papers as her friend Jamie arrived and came into her small room unannounced. “Hey, you weren’t at Father’s reading tonight, what’s going on?” She asked all the while looking around the cramped looking room and thinking about the various stories the patriarch of the tunnel community shared with them that evening.

“I was trying to get my chamber a little organized. Between lessons, chores, and our explorations, I haven’t had very much time to get settled,“ Missy answered honestly.

Jamie looked around the chamber and shrugged her shoulders when she saw there were still four large boxes in the center of the small room. It appeared as though Missy had spent less time getting unpacked and more time contemplating the entire situation she was now forced to live with.

Overnight success certainly left its toll on her. The book was still selling well, but whenever she thought of her family it only succeeded in making her unhappy.

Now with organizing and unpacking at the top of her list, she was frazzled to say the least. She glanced over at the dresser and could see the framed photograph on top, a rose made from pink paper rested next to it. “Is that the picture of your mom?” Jamie asked when she saw Missy's eyes land on the picture and how it held her gaze for some twenty or so seconds.

In the back of her mind, all she could think about were the last few minutes at her father's shop, and the disastrous confrontation that had ensued as a result of her going and trying to talk to him.

Missy's Flashback

Missy approached the counter where her father was standing. “Daddy?” She spoke his name as though it was a question.

He looked up and his eyes widened when he saw his daughter standing in front of the counter boldly looking at him.

In the back of the room near the door, Missy's friend, Catherine Chandler looked at the older man who was the protector of the underground world. “What did you tell her?”

“She has to try,” Jacob Wells whispered watching Missy’s movements.

“There’s no way, he won’t listen,” Catherine said, “I’ve already tried.”

Jacob said nothing, he simply watched.

“What are you doing here?” The man demanded looking at his daughter. “You should be in school. I don’t have time for this.”

She said nothing, pulled the snapshot from her pocket, placed it on the counter, and pushed it across it so that he could see it.

“Where the hell did you get this?” he demanded once he had looked down at the photo.

“You never have time for me,” she whispered. “I mean, what difference does it make where I got the picture? When you look at me, you see her, don’t you?”

He reached down and took the photo and tore it in half. Missy stood watching, her eyes filling with tears as she watched him throw the two pieces across the counter. They skidded across the top and drifted to the floor. “Now, I want you to get your tail back to school, and I’ll try to forget that you have been so disrespectful.”

“I had believed once that if I were successful that you would stop working so hard and become my father again. When I found that picture, I realized that that would never happen, that you would still stay here in this stupid shop avoiding me. You may not believe it, but I had hoped the book would help bring us together.” She shook her head as she looked down at the floor and could see the two halves of her mother’s picture resting against the cold linoleum.

“I said you need to go,” he raised one of his hands as though to slap her, but when she didn’t even back up, he lowered it once again.

“You may be able to rip her photo to shreds, and live in denial, but you cannot rip me up. I’m a person, and I’m your daughter. If you cannot accept and love me, then I will leave, so you can at least heal the wounds you still carry in your heart.”

Mr. Parks looked up at her once again, but after a few moments, he simply grunted and returned his focus to the newspaper that was in front of him.

Missy could feel the tears continuing to stream down her cheeks. “I know you may not want to hear this, but all the money from my book, I have given to Travis, because he has taken care of me. I know that all the things he did for me did not come from you, they came from him, and I’m glad that he left, even if it hurts me more than your rejection does. At least now, he can make something he wants of his life rather than something he feels he has to do.”

“I’ve heard just about enough from you, now get out, and take your worthless friends with you,” he shouted.

Missy backed away from counter, fear in her eyes at hearing her father’s voice rising in intensity and anger. “My mother would have never treated me this way,” she said softly. “She would have loved me for who I am, and would have tried to make our family happy and complete.”

“Get out of here, I don’t want to see you again,” he shouted. “Go live with your brother.”

From his vantage point in the back of the shop, Jacob shook his head sadly. He looked at Catherine and sighed deeply. ‘Perhaps this had been a mistake,’ he thought as he watched Missy backing away from the counter. She had not yet turned around, but when she did, the look in her eyes was of the most intense anguish that anyone could suffer. He could see the shame hidden in her eyes, and after a moment, she closed them, her head bowed. In her humiliation, she was unable to meet his gaze.

He walked slowly over to where she was standing and rested his hand on her shoulder. She looked up for a split second as the man she had come to know as 'Father' spoke. “Come, my dear, we’re going home.”

Missy stood unable to move. After a few seconds, she slowly got down on her knees and retrieved the two halves of the photo. Once she had found them and was holding them in her hand, she slipped them inside her pocket and remained on her knees staring down at the floor. “It’s hopeless,” she mumbled. “Dear God,” she began to pray softly, “Please, help me.”

It was obvious to both Catherine and Jacob that the shock of her father’s words was still with Missy, but now they would both be with her, and they were not going to leave her alone, not ever. Silently, they helped her to her feet and led her outside.

Once on the street, Missy began to sob uncontrollably. “I wanted him to love me,” she cried. “I wanted him to realize that I need him,” she looked at Jacob helplessly, “I did, Father, I really did.”

“We know you did, Missy,” Jacob said softly. “We know.”

“He’s obviously not deserving of your love,” Catherine said gently. “I feel sorry for him. He’s missing out on so much.”

“What’s going to happen to me now?” Missy asked; her face streaked with tears as she looked from one to the other. “I can’t go live with Travis.”

Jacob smiled gently at her, “I know, but you don’t need to worry, Missy, we won’t leave you alone. I meant just what I said in the shop. We’re going to go home.”

“You mean?”

He nodded without saying a word.

Missy looked down at the pavement, “I guess I always knew my father would toss me aside, but I wanted to believe something else. I wanted to believe that I was special.”

“Now you cannot believe anything else about your father,” Jacob said gently. “But you must never believe that you are not special, because you are. We want what’s best for you, and I know you will now be able to find true happiness, because you won’t be forced to live in loneliness any longer.”

Missy's Flashback End

As her thoughts were catapulted back to the present, she watched as Jamie went over and picked up the picture. "This is really harsh," the girl said looking at the rip that extended across the photograph.

“My father ripped it up last week when Father, Catherine and I went to see him,” Missy offered softly. “Before I moved down here, I was able to salvage the two pieces and brought them with me. Mouse took them some time later and tried to repair them for me. Then he gave me the frame yesterday.”

“Mouse has always been nice about doing those kinds of things," Jamie offered freely, but when Missy did not acknowledge what she had just said, the other girl looked at her. “Are you OK?”

“I guess. I think it’s going to take some time to get over all the things that have happened above,” Missy said honestly. “I sometimes wonder if it will ever happen, or if I’m just imagining the entire thing. You know, part of me wishes that I had a place above where I belonged, but I know that is like asking for a miracle.” She walked over to one of the boxes in her room. Opening it, she pulled out a stuffed tiger and hugged it against her chest.

Jamie nodded, “I think it’s like that for a lot of people who move down here.”

“I suppose so, but not being able to go out in the park isn’t really fair. I like the sunshine, Jamie, I want to sit outside and write, but I can't even do that anymore. I think now I know how Anne Frank must have felt.” Missy put the tiger on her bed and returned to the box and pulled a small tape recorder out. She looked at it as she ran her hands across the smooth texture. Seeing the cord that was dangling down to the ground, she unhooked it, and looked at Jamie grinning with a trace of embarrassment. “I guess in all the stuff that happened, I forgot to buy batteries.”

Jamie laughed, “Don’t worry. Father can probably get you some.”

“I don’t know if I should ask him. He’s done so much for me already,” Missy said softly as she put the recorder back inside the box.

“But he does it because he cares,” Jamie objected. “If it’s important to you, he’ll find a way. He knows you’ve been through so much.”

“Jamie, I don’t want anyone to feel sorry for me, especially not him,” Missy said. “I would feel so silly if he did.”

“Nobody gets into that kind of stuff around here. Missy, what you have to understand is unconditional love. Father isn’t going to stop caring for you if you ask if there is a chance that someone could bring you some batteries for your tape recorder.” Jamie stood up and walked over to the box. As she began to dig around, she pulled out three tapes. “Besides, I like music too, and it would be fun to listen to it together, or at least to share it with everyone else. I mean; I like classical, but I think it would be fun to listen to something else once in awhile. Look, you’ve got lots of different music here,“ She continued to pull cassettes out of the box. “You must have at least 30 tapes.”

Missy smiled weakly, “I love music, but my tastes aren’t the typical stuff that kids our age listen to. I mean when I was in school above, if the other kids had known that I liked Barry Manilow, they would have probably laughed at me. Well, more than they did.”

“Why?”

“Because they consider him un-cool,” she said. “I used to listen to his music when I was with my mom. She had a bunch of his records and after she died, my father broke them all. I managed to make this tape of his music before they were all destroyed. I could listen to this stuff all day long, and feel good because it would remind me of her. Even today, I would dance around my room holding the album cover while this music would fill the house.”

Jamie smiled as she heard Jacob call to Missy from out in the passage. Her smile faded slightly, “I guess I should go. I’ll see you tomorrow,” she whispered and Missy nodded.

“Good night, Jamie,” she said softly. Looking towards the passage, she called out to the man as he appeared in the doorway. “You can come in, Father,” she said and watched as he came slowly into the chamber.

Jamie looked at him smiling guiltily. “I was just on my way to bed,” she said innocently and turned to Missy. “Good night, Missy. Don’t forget to ask.”

“Good night, Jamie,” Jacob said as she left the chamber. “Ask? What about?” He looked at Missy.

“She said that I should ask you if I could get some batteries for my tape recorder,“ Missy said softly. Her attention was on the box of tapes rather than on her guardian, who had seated himself at the table.

“Well, I think we can arrange that,” he said. With concern in his gentle eyes, he spoke. “You weren’t at the reading tonight. Is everything alright?”

“I’m sorry I missed it,” she said honestly. “I enjoy hearing the stories so much, but I wanted to get some stuff unpacked.”

“Is it just me or did you fail to get much accomplished with it?” He asked smiling.

“I guess not. Jamie said the same thing when she was here,” Missy said. “I guess I was getting more caught up with remembering things than I was with actually unpacking. I suppose I didn’t realize I had so much stuff.”

“Why? Haven’t you ever moved before?”

“No, I lived my whole life in that apartment,” she began. “I guess that’s why it was so hard for me to leave. I mean, it was good, but it was also kind of sad. When I would try to unpack things; I would find sentimental stuff, and then I would remember when or where I had gotten them.”

“What were you remembering?”

“Nothing bad. I was just thinking about things like when my brother, Travis, had given me this stuffed tiger for my birthday or how I used to dance around with an album cover and listen to music with my mom,” she said softly. “I guess that’s why I wanted to see if I could get some batteries, so I can listen to my favorite music again.”

“The music brings you closer to your mother, doesn’t it?”

“Yeah, I guess so. I never really thought much about it before, but these days it seems to be on my mind a lot.”

“Well, I think with all the changes that have happened to you in the past week, it seems only natural that you would depend on that to help you a little,” he said.

“Thank you,” she whispered.

“For what, my dear?” he asked.

“For understanding and helping me to deal with everything,” she said.

He smiled, “There’s no reason for you to thank me. It is, after all, what I am here for.”

“I’ll try to remember that.”

Jacob nodded approvingly. “It is getting pretty late now, so why don’t you try and get some sleep? You can finish unpacking later.” He stood up to leave.

“Oh, Father, I nearly forgot something.” She dug in her pocket and pulled out forty dollars. “Do you remember when Vincent brought me here to spend Spring Break? It was when I was dodging the reporters above and was tired all the time."

He nodded; he would probably never forget how exhausted she looked when Vincent had brought her below that night.

Jacob's Flashback

There had been no time to prepare for her to come, as no one was aware that Vincent would be bringing her back with him. Jacob entered the chamber some moments later when he saw the light illuminating out in the tunnel.

“Vincent?”

“Shhh, she’s asleep,” he whispered.

Jacob nodded, “What happened? You had said that you were going up to Catherine’s apartment to see her, I didn’t think you were going to bring her here.”

“I had no choice, Catherine asked me to bring her down for some rest. They had spent all afternoon running from reporters,” Vincent said keeping his voice as soft as he could.

Jacob looked down nodding understandably as she slept. “Now that you mention it, she does seem to carry the traits of someone who desperately needs rest. Did her face look this pale in the light in Catherine’s apartment?”

“Yes,“ Vincent said softly.

“Could you tell if she looked sick?” He asked, his concern shifting from their safety, to the wellness of their young friend.

“She was extremely pale, as though she had not been eating right since all of this started and I barely recognized her when I saw her. Catherine had said that she looked as though she had lost a lot of weight, and when I picked her up, she was noticeably lighter than she had been when I carried her from your chamber to this one two months ago,” Vincent said.

“Would you say that this is a drastic weight loss?” Jacob asked.

“Yes, I would,” he said as he brushed her hair away from her face.

The older man nodded once again. “The reason I ask is because she appeared to be pretty healthy when she was here before. But, now she looks as though the pressures above are effecting every thing about her, the main thing being her diet, but probably also her emotional state.”

“What do you suggest?” Vincent asked.

“That we get some vitamins in her system before she has a nervous collapse,” he said grimly.

Vincent nodded, “and here I was thinking she had forgotten about us all.”

“I don’t think she has, from what I understand, she was probably conscientious of her promise from the start, ” Jacob said gently. “For once, I am glad you did not take my suggestion about letting her go, she is indeed a very special little girl.”

Vincent nodded, “should I stay with her?”

“No, she’s in no real danger, in fact, I think she’ll sleep through the night,” he said. “Come, you can stay in my chamber tonight.”

Vincent nodded and followed his father out of the chamber, leaving Missy peacefully asleep.

“How long did Catherine want her to stay with us?” he asked once they entered his chamber.

“A week, Missy has holidays from school,” Vincent answered. “Would this be alright?”

Jacob nodded. “I think so, but we’ll have to arrange a chamber for her while she is here. I’ll ask Mary in the morning to help with this, but we can discuss all that then, right now I think it would be best if we get some sleep.”

Vincent nodded; it had been a long day.

Jacob's Flashback End

As his mind returned to the present, Jacob could see that Missy was still battling her emotions. This seemed to happen every time she would mention her brother, or the situation with her family "Travis had given me this money when I was at Catherine's apartment just before Vincent had arrived there,” she began. “Anyway, I tried to give it back to him when he moved out last week, but he wouldn’t take it and I don't really know what to do with it, so I thought maybe you could give it to the Helpers for food or something.”

Jacob took the money she offered. “Thank you, but now it’s time for you to go to sleep. Good night, Missy.” He leaned over and kissed her forehead before leaving the chamber.

Once he was gone, she grabbed her nightgown and got ready for bed. Bringing the candle over to the bedside table, she crawled under the covers and blew the light out. She could still hear the faint tapping of the pipes and smiled as she looked up to see the shadows dancing across the ceiling. As she lay there, she contemplated the sounds that emerged from the tunnels and how they completely contrasted the hectic life above. She thought about her mother and whether there was really a heaven. Finally, she snuggled up to her stuffed tiger and closed her eyes.

~*~*~*~*~

That same evening Catherine Chandler was at the table looking over her files when the doorbell rang. ‘Who that could be,’ the assistant District Attorney wondered. She closed the file, stood, and went to open the door.

“Travis, what are you doing here?” she asked once she recognized her visitor.

“May I come in?” Missy’s brother asked.

“Of course, please.” Stepping back from doorway, she allowed him to come into her spacious apartment.

He spoke as he came through the door. “I’m really sorry to bother you so late, but before Missy left, she told me to keep your address. My friend, Scott, told me about this,” he held up a newspaper. “I thought I should come see if you know where she is or if she’s OK?”

Catherine took the newspaper he held and looked at the article. After reading it, she looked over at him shaking her head in sadness. “Travis, half of what is printed here is garbage. Missy is fine. She’s living with friends and is doing much better now.”

“What happened last week?” He asked.

“I can’t tell you. I don’t want to hurt you,” she said softly.

“Listen. I know about keeping secrets from Missy but you can’t keep this a secret from me. I happen to know that you and she were at the shop last week with some older guy,” Travis said.

“Who told you this?” Catherine asked.

“When I called the shop to return a storage room key, my brother Matt told me that Missy had confronted my dad and that he had basically flipped out about it.”

“Your brother was telling the truth, Travis. At first I was there to ask about the reporters and the problems. Your father refused to speak to me about the situation and wanted to kick me out. He even threatened to contact the police if I did not go.” She paused, taking a deep breath. “Then as I was leaving, Missy came in. She tried to speak to him but he basically told her to leave and that he didn’t want to see her again. She went with her friend back to the apartment, packed, and left.”

“I didn’t know that part,” Travis said softly.

“I didn’t want to tell you, because Missy knew that it was time for you to pave out a life for yourself,” Catherine replied. “Travis, she has known for sometime that you were much more than an older brother, that you had dreams and ambitions. I think she felt guilty because she did not want to be the reason you kept living there.”

He shook his head, “But I’m her brother. I should have been there for her.”

“You were there for her. Since your mother died seven years ago, you have been taking care of Missy and sacrificing everything you could for her. Now, you have to try and let go of the guilt, Travis. She is OK, she’s got friends who will take care of her and make sure she’s happy. However, she also knows how important it is for you to move on with your life and to stop feeling guilty.” Glancing past the young man, she could see through the window that Vincent was standing on the balcony and waiting. “Right now, you must do for yourself and find your own happiness. I think you know that.”

“Catherine, when you see her again, please tell her that I love her,” he said quietly. “I don’t want her to hate me.”

“She doesn’t, and I’m sure she loves you too.”

“Thank you,” came his soft reply.

“There is something I would like to speak to you about. It’s a much more serious matter though. You remember the reporters that were stalking Missy ever since her book was released? Well, I'm the DA who was put on the case, and although I am not certain if you know the extent of what happened the day her spring break vacation started, I was with her when the reporters were chasing her, and my friend Edie and I helped her dodge them."

As she spoke, she found herself telling him about what had happened that afternoon to her as well as to his little sister.

Catherine's Flashback

Inside the large building, Catherine could see the persistent reporters coming through the glass doors at the front of the building. She quickly pressed the button to summon the elevator, and sighed with relief when the doors immediately opened. She ushered Missy quickly inside and pressed the number 14 for the floor that her office was on. As the doors were closing, she could see the two women running towards it in hopes of catching it and trapping them inside.

Missy could feel her palms beginning to sweat as the two women came closer, but when the doors were completely closed, she sighed with relief and leaned up against the wall.

As the elevator made it’s ascent, Catherine began to contemplate the possibility that the women would know which floor they were running to and after a few moments of contemplation, she pressed the number eight.

“Why did you do that?” Missy asked.

“Because, I know reporters, they are persistent as lawyers, and I figure if we got off at eight, we can take the stairs up and give them the slip.”

As they came out of the elevator on the eighth floor, Catherine recognized that Joe Maxwell was waiting to get on.

“Joe, can you act as our decoy?” Catherine asked.

“What’s going on, Radcliffe?” he asked. “I thought you had left for the day.”

“I did, but now we’re playing dodge ‘em with a couple of annoying reporters,” Catherine said. “There’s no time to explain. This is Missy Parks, the author of ‘The Wind Will Guide Me’. They’ve been trailing her since the book was released,” Catherine quickly explained.

“I see,” Joe rubbed his chin, “well, then, get going you two, I’ll hold them off.”

“Thanks, I owe you one,” Catherine said and the two of them ran towards the door leading to the stairwell. Catherine threw it open and together they ran up to the tenth floor. By then Missy was completely out of breath.

“It would probably be easier if I did the stupid interview,” the young girl whispered.

“Perhaps, but do you want to?”

“No,” she whispered.

“Don’t worry, if I know Joe, which I do, he has everything well under control. He’ll take care of them, and they’ll wish they never stepped foot in this building,” Catherine said when they reached the door for the restroom. Inside, Missy splashed some water on her face while Catherine watched the door. “We’re safe now, I haven’t seen anyone coming down the hall that looks like them.”

Missy sighed with relief.

“Has it really been this bad every day?” Catherine asked once she had closed the door again.

Missy nodded, “I can’t go anywhere without being followed. People stop me on the street and ask me about the poems I have written. These two women have been at the school every day this week, and no one is doing anything to stop them.”

“It is now bordering on harassment, isn’t it?” Catherine asked.

Missy nodded, “yeah but there is very little I can do about it.”

“Maybe, maybe not,” Catherine said smiling. “My father always said that one should have a doctor and a lawyer in every family, and you, my dear, now have one of each.”

“I do?”

“Well, extended family, you’ve got me, and Father is a doctor,” Catherine whispered. “Now, all we have to do is keep you out of the newspaper business.”

Missy smiled, as Catherine opened the door once again and peeked out into the hallway.

Catherine's Flashback End

Catherine looked at Missy's brother. "The long and the short of it is my office is prosecuting those two reporters for their involvement in harassing Missy after her book was published. And so far I have had nothing but bad luck in trying to get people to talk to me about what happened. Would you be willing to meet with me tomorrow afternoon to discuss this? If I know reporters, they would probably be hitting every angle that they can find, and one of those angles happens to be the family.”

“I’d like to, but I have to work. I know it's Saturday, but I just started working at one of the local radio stations and they need me tomorrow because they are short handed. Would you mind coming by the station? I mean, I don’t know if what I have to say is all that important, but I could talk to you there.”

“That would be great,” she said. “I appreciate it. How about three?”

“That’ll work. I’ll take a late lunch, and we can grab a bite from the local deli. I hear they have great submarine sandwiches, and I have wanted to try them. You know, kill two birds with one stone,” Travis said. “Besides, I probably need to see about getting some legal advice regarding Missy’s book royalties. She wants everything in my name until she turns 18.”

Catherine nodded. “She mentioned this to me and she wanted you to have it because you have taken care of her.”

“I told her I wanted it go for her education. She’s got a lot of potential and she deserves it,” he said. “I figure she could do just about anything she wanted to. I kinda envy her. It seems like she’s got it all.”

“And she has a pretty remarkable brother, too,” Catherine said gently.

“Thanks. I don’t know if that’s the case but I do appreciate the compliment,” he said as he extended his hand. “I’ll see you tomorrow at three. You know where the station is, right? 47^th and Main?”

“I do now. I’ll see you then, and thanks, Travis, I appreciate your help,” Catherine said.

“I’m only doing it for Missy,” he said and walked towards the door.

“I know, and I’m sure she will appreciate it, too.”

Once Travis had left, she hurried to reach the balcony door. Opening it, she stepped outside to greet her friend. “Vincent?”

“Catherine,” his soft, but husky voice emerged and he stepped out from among the shadows. She looked up at him and smiled, his face endearing to her. Although many saw a beast when they looked at him, she saw a friend and trusted confidant, a man with the stature and appearance of a lion who had the soul of a poet. His voice was gentle when he spoke to her. “Who was that?”

“That's Travis, Missy’s brother,” she said smiling weakly. “I am finally getting somewhere on this case. I didn’t think I would find someone who was willing to help, but he seems to believe that harassing reporters are the reason for Missy leaving, but even though he knew about when Father and I were with her at the shop a week ago, it's not true and Travis is starting to see that.”

“How is he doing?”

“I think he feels guilty because he cannot do for his sister any longer,” replied Catherine.

“He can do no more, he must now learn to do for himself,” Vincent said calmly.

“That’s pretty much what I told him,” she said. “But, like the old saying goes, ‘old habits die hard’. It’s not easy for someone to stop doing something they have been accustomed to for over seven years.”

Vincent nodded. “Does he believe she’s in a safe place?”

“I told him, but I don’t think it makes much of a difference, he's still worried,” she offered and when he saw her face, he could see the genuine concern there. "Is she at least getting settled below, Vincent?"

“Three days ago, I had gone by her chamber to pick up a book that she had asked me to come get, and when I came in, I noticed that she had not even unpacked her things, but that she had made a paper rose for her mother,” Vincent said softly as he shook his head sadly. “Jamie said that she had put it next to the photograph on her dresser and Mouse had given her a frame for it. I think she looks at it each day, and I know she must be grieving this loss, somehow I can't help but consider how she is finally able to remember and grieve her mother, this is something that she was completely unable to do when she was living with her father and brothers.”

“Do you really think it was that hard for her?” Catherine asked. “She never saw them.”

“I believe that rejection is a very harsh and painful thing for anyone to live with. Missy understands that she is now in a place where she has the freedom to work through entire grieving process. It’s has been hard because she was never able to properly grieve her mother's death, and today she is learning to cope with it on top of that, which has transpired in her life.”

“I think having you and Father with her will help,” Catherine said.

“Perhaps, but she also seems to have Jamie, and they seem to be relating to each other quite well. A lot of it has to do with their similarity in ages, but I think she uses this a way to block her feelings. Missy and Jamie are always together, they go off everyday after their lessons, and Jamie even asked Father if Missy and her could have the same chore so they could work together. I wonder if this is really a healthy outlet for Missy.”

“Are you jealous?” Catherine chided putting her hand on his arm.

“No, I’m quite happy for her, but I do miss some of the talks we have had,” he said honestly. "Like the first day we met, it was a day I am not likely to forget ever."

"Tell me about it, Vincent, please," Catherine pleaded with him and they went and sat down on her balcony, her head now coming to rest against his strong shoulder as he began to speak.

Vincent's Flashback

Vincent had been writing, but when he began to hear the sounds of a girl crying in the distance, he laid his pen down and glanced up from his work. Something about living in the tunnel world, the voices of the kids who lived there often would resonate through them making it seem as though they were close by rather than being far away.

He knew that someone was crying, and this disturbed him. Was it one of the children who lived there? Had she fallen down and cried over a skinned knee? Usually if someone in their world had fallen down, they would have stopped crying after some moments had passed, picked themselves up off the ground and dusted themselves off. The kids that lived in the tunnels were pretty tough and could usually handle the bumps and scars of growing up. Seeing as many had already lived through some pretty nightmarish situations, he could not understand why the sobs did not end after some moments, but rather continued. Obviously, this was not one of their children, he concluded, it was a girl, and she probably had somehow found the tunnels, but had lost her way.

He stood up, his writing forgotten as he stepped towards the entrance to his chamber. When he saw Mary coming through the tunnel towards him, he stepped out into the corridor, and went to meet her. Mary had probably heard the crying herself, he concluded, and was looking for someone who could go and find help for the lost child. Normally, they would have immediately gone to Jacob to ask what should be done. The patriarch would then ask a Helper to go into the tunnel and show the girl how to get back home, but presently, Jacob was not there, and both Vincent and Mary knew this. The word going around was that he would not be back until later that evening.

“Vincent, can you hear it, too?” Mary asked once he was standing beside her.

“Yes, I think it’s coming from the Central Park entrance, maybe Mouse caught someone sneaking around in the tunnels,” he said.

“It can’t be anything serious, it sounds like a little girl,” Mary said. “The poor child must be so frightened.”

Vincent nodded, “then someone must go to her. Do you know when Father is due back?”

“Not until later, but we can’t wait for him to return, we have to figure out what to do now. That’s why I was coming to your chamber. I thought maybe you could do something about this,” Mary said. “If the child is caught in one of Mouse’s booby traps, then I wouldn’t have the strength to help get her down.”

“I’ll go then,” Vincent said softly. He returned to his chamber and grabbed his cloak. He draped it over his shoulder and walked towards the entrance to the tunnels, which lead to the drainpipe that extended out into the park.

“Are you sure, you know Father’s always warning us about strangers,” Mary asked. “If he knew that you were going alone to get her, he’d hit the ceiling. I mean, you know as well as I, it is better that as few people as possible from up there know about us. There is a potential danger here.”

“Perhaps everything you say is true, but as you pointed out, this is a child, Mary, and I cannot in good conscience leave her alone and afraid in the tunnels. Eventually, she would be discovered, and I think you know that it would be better if someone were to go to her as quickly as possible,” Vincent answered assuredly and walked without a candle towards the tunnel where the weeping had originated.

Mary nodded as Vincent walked past her. “OK,” she conceded, “but do be careful, Vincent.”

“I will, don’t worry,” came his soft response as he took the hood on his cloak and covered his head with it.

He walked slowly through the tunnels and up the spiral staircase that led towards the wall that separated their underground world from the tunnel, which led to the large park in the middle of New York City. As he made his way, he could tell that he was going the right direction, as the weeping had grown louder.

When he reached the spot where Mouse’s booby traps had started, he looked up and saw the silhouette of a child over his head. She was hanging overhead in the net, her face in her hands, her body shaking, and he could see that she was frightened.

“Don’t be afraid,” he said softly. “No one will harm you here, little one.”

The girl seemed not to have heard his soothing words because she continued to weep. He went over to the rope that acted as the control for the net, which kept her hanging over his head and pulled on it causing it to start unwinding and beginning to lower her to the ground. As the girl began to feel this happening, she started to scream when she felt herself falling.

The net loosened and she tumbled down and landed securely in Vincent’s arms. “It’s OK, I’ve got you. I won’t let you fall.”

In response to his words, she threw her arms around him and held onto him burying her face in against his shoulder. He could not tell if she was crying out of relief or fear, but it did not matter, he wrapped his arms around her and held her. “It’s OK, you’re safe now. No one will harm you.”

As soon as her crying had subsided, Vincent lowered her gently to the ground and once she was securely on her feet, he released his hold on her shoulders. She immediately dropped to her knees and began to grope the ground as though she was searching for something.

“What are you searching for, Child, maybe I can help you find it?” he offered.

She said nothing, only continued to search, all the while trying to get away from the voice of the man who was addressing her.

Vincent took a few steps backwards and when he stopped again, he could feel something on the tunnel floor under his feet. He reached down and picked up the object. It was a small notebook and he concluded that this was what the girl was looking for.

He looked up and could see that she was still groping around searching, and at this moment, she was crawling towards another of Mouse’s traps. Luckily I can see much better in the dark than most people, he thought to himself, or else rather than a warning, I might be helping her out of another one of the traps.

“Wait,” he said softly. “You’re moving towards another trap. Come back over to me and I’ll take you some place safe. I found your book, and everything will be OK. Just follow the sound of my voice.”

The girl, obviously not wishing to be trapped again, followed Vincent’s instructions and crawled closer to him. When she could feel the rough boots he wore on his feet, she remained on the ground and looked up at him. She could not see his face, though through the shadows, she could make out his silhouette as he towered above her. “W-who are you?”

“My name is Vincent,” he said softly. “What is your name, Child?”

“M-Missy,” she stammered.

“And what brings you to these tunnels?” he asked gently.

“I wasn’t doing anything wrong, Vincent. Honest, I wasn’t,” she said softly, and he could detect a sort of waver in her speech and knew that she was still frightened.

“It’s OK, Missy, you have nothing to be afraid of,” he said gently.

“It’s just that I was trying to get away from the music in the park,” she said softly. “I wanted to find a quiet place to write.”

Vincent nodded, “I understand. Down here it is rather quiet. But, how ever did you manage to get in here?”

“I was walking near the entrance of the large drainpipe in Central Park. I went in thinking that I could sit somewhere near the entrance and write. But, the music was too loud and I knew I wouldn’t be able to concentrate,” she said.

“So, you went in deeper?” he asked.

“Yes Sir,” she said weakly.

“No formalities, Missy, but do continue.”

“When I got closer to the sliding wall, I could hear voices, and these two boys came out from behind it. I guess they didn’t see me, so after they were gone, I came through the entrance and ended up in this tunnel,” she said softly. “I’m sorry if I did anything wrong.”

“No, you didn’t,” he repeated, “but if you are wanting to write, then perhaps I should take you to a place where you can.”

“You’re not angry with me? I thought I had done something wrong when I got trapped in that net,” she began.

Vincent smiled, “no, the nets are rigged to keep unwanted guests out of our tunnels, but you’re not unwanted,“ he said and she could detect a friendly sort of laughter in his voice. “Come with me, you’ll be my guest while you are here.”

“Thank you,” she said softly as Vincent offered her his hand and helped her off the ground. Once she was on her feet, he led her back through the tunnel. When they reached the light at the other end of the corridor, Missy had to rub her eyes because the brightness caused them to hurt a little. Although the light was somewhat dim, it was better than the dark tunnel where she had been trapped.

They descended the staircase and when they reached Vincent’s chamber, she turned around and finally got her first real glimpse of him. He was tall and she had to strain her neck to see his face, but when she did, she backed away from him. He had the appearance of a lion, but stood upright like a man, and seemed to possess immeasurable strength. “I,” she wanted to scream, but it got caught in her throat, and she swallowed trying to keep her fear at bay. She wrung her hands together in order to calm herself down.

Her nervous movements did not go undetected by him, but instead of addressing her fear immediately, he pulled a chair for her, and backed slowly away from it, trying to appear as serene as he possibly could. “Please sit down, Missy.”

“W-who are you?” she whispered sitting in the chair, which he offered. The last thing she wanted to do was to antagonize him, and she couldn’t imagine what he might do to her if she were to refuse. Somehow, she had the strange sensation that it would anger him if she showed him just how terrified she was.

“I’m the same person who freed you from the net, and spoke with you in the tunnel,” Vincent said softly. “Although, I promised you that no one would harm you here, I have a feeling that you are now frightened of me simply because of how I appear. Are you so afraid of me?”

Missy nodded slowly, but after a few moments of hesitation, she stopped as she remembered the soft and soothing voice she had heard back in the tunnel and how it seemed to match the voice of the person now addressing her. Eventually, she shook her head.

“Yes or no?” Vincent asked gently. “I assure you, Missy, I would do nothing to hurt you.”

“N-no,” she whispered but he could see her body was trembling violently and he knew that she was speaking an untruth.

Rather than continue with this line of questioning, Vincent looked down at the book she had searched for in the tunnel. He still held it in his hand. “May I read something from your book?” he asked trying to change the subject.

Missy, not knowing what to say, shook her head.

“As you wish,” Vincent said softly, and placed the book gently on the table.

When she looked up at him, she could tell that he was somewhat saddened by her answer. After a few moments of silence passed, she finally found her voice and spoke. “W-would you really want to read something I wrote? I mean it is probably not all that great. Some of it I wrote when I was nine.”

“You are your own worst critic,” Vincent said gently. “You may not see much in your work, but the impact it has on others may hold more significance than you can even imagine.”

“I don’t believe that,” she whispered more to herself than to him.

“It is true, Missy. For this reason, I would very much like to read something you have written, but only if you were to allow it,” he said.

“You mean, I would have to say whether or not you can before you would?” she asked.

“That’s right, but you must always keep in mind, you are far more critical of your own work than you are of that of others.”

She reached over and grabbed the book from off the table. “I tried reading something out of here in class today and the other kids laughed and called it garbage.” She hugged the notebook tightly against her chest.

“And I must now conclude that you are afraid to show it because of the cruel words of others?” He asked.

She nodded numbly feeling herself relaxing somewhat in his presence.

Vincent stood up and walked over to where she was sitting. He got down on his knees and rested his hand on her shoulder; she shrank back in terror. “You have nothing to fear,“ he whispered and she relaxed somewhat. “I would never do anything like that to you.” He stood up, took her hands in his, and pulled her gently to her feet. He led her out of his chamber and into the chamber they all called 'Father’s library'. “Look around this chamber, Missy, here you will find books filled with stories and poetry of all kinds. Reading is one of my joys in life, and I must tell you that if any one of these authors you see on the shelf had refused to write their works, then there would be one less book in this chamber.”

Missy approached the shelf and began to read the titles on the spines of the books. After a minute of studying them, she turned back around, a book of Shakespeare’s sonnets in her hand. “But these are all great writers,” she objected returning the book to it’s place on the shelf. With her index finger she pointed out authors as she read their names aloud. “Shakespeare, Wordsworth, even Robert Frost is here.” She could feel the tears welling up in her eyes as she turned back around. “Who would want to read the works of Melissa Parks?”

“I would,” Vincent said gently.

Vincent's Flashback End

“Since that day, I learned so much about her," Vincent continued to speak. "I discovered that she has a remarkable humor. I had never noticed it before, and now I see that she enjoys laughter, making them smile if for no other reason, but just to hear the melodious sounds of their delight.”

“Like that day when she called you a 'macho'?” Catherine asked.

Vincent nodded as a soft chuckle emerged from deep in his throat, “I realize now that she had simply said that as a way to shock me to such a degree that I would swallow my pride and talk to her. Her intention had been successful.”

“Yes, but you’ll always be like her father figure. No matter what happens, she will come back to you and will trust that you will be there for her. Don't be sad that she is finding new friends, a young girl needs that, she can't spend her life playing chess with you and Father; she needs to enjoy what's out there. Yet, I also think that she needs to have you there to help her face things when they become too difficult for her twelve-year-old shoulders,” she said softly looking up at him.

Vincent nodded and smiled. “You're right, Catherine, and you know that I have no regrets.”

“I’m glad,” Catherine said softly hugging him tightly. “I don’t either.”

~*~*~*~*~

At that time, Andrew was roaming listlessly around Central Park. He had come there after leaving Tess and Monica and now his human body was tired. The young Angel of Death knew that he was not being sent to escort someone to Heaven, as he would not be muted in order to fulfill this specific task. However, the more he thought about it, the more he pondered where, or better said, how he was going to find Missy Parks since, according to Tess, she was to be his latest assignment.

A crumpled up newspaper blew against his feet, and slowly, he crouched down to pick it up. Why he was doing this was a mystery to him, but oddly enough, he wanted to find out if along with being muted if he still had all of his other abilities, in this case, whether or not he could read or write.

The darkness seemed to engulf him and even though New York City was brighter than most cities at night, he could see that the park was dimly lit, the entire area seemed to be blanketed in darkness. He walked with his newspaper over to a bench that had only a small amount of light, which emanated from a lone bulb, which hung from a nearby post. This light seemed to illuminate only a small perimeter of grass as well as the damp wooden bench.

Father, why am I here, and why can't I speak? His unspoken question seemed to drift up to the heavens as he sat down on the bench. Andrew was an angel that never lost his faith completely, but he pondered all the while why it was that he was left in this state and why specifically all of this was happening to him.

With a sigh, he glanced down at the newspaper and splashed across the headline were the following words: 'Poet Melissa Parks Disappears'. Sighing deeply he began to read the article.

Twelve-year-old Melissa Parks was reported missing last week after she failed to show up at school. Parks, who is known for her recent book of poetry 'The Wind Will Guide Me' has turned the literary world on its ear with her gentle poetry and soft-spoken demeanor.

He glanced to one side and could see the photograph of his assignment, and ripping that out of the paper, he stuffed the article and picture into his pocket. Next, he laid the paper aside, all the while knowing that he could read, and feeling the relief wash over him that he had not lost all of his abilities. Andrew was left to conclude that he simply could not speak, and nothing more. He took a deep breath as the clouds above him rumbled, thus indicating a storm would probably be coming through and based on the thunder in the distance, it would start to rain very soon.

When he did feel the first drops of rain, it came down unexpectedly and literally in sheets. Within moments the angel trapped in human form was completely drenched from head to toe. Glancing around, he continued to look for some sort of shelter that might protect him from the weather. Tightening the coat more firmly around his waist, he got up off the bench and slopped his way through the mud as his blonde hair hung in clumps down over his shoulder and he looked more the part of a drowned rat than that of an angel sent by God.

Reaching the entrance to a tunnel, he did not stop to think about going inside, the weather was getting worse, and this strange place seemed to be beckoning him inside. He figured that sitting inside the large opening might act as a feasible shelter in order for him to wait out the storm. He concluded that he could probably sleep here and then the following morning, he would set out in search of his assignment.

As he sat down and leaned up against the wall, he pulled his knees up until they reached his chest and looked out through the tunnel wondering where it led, but also contemplating why it was he was there in the first place.

He knew who his assignment was supposed to be, but he did not know if he would find her in this place, much less if he would be able to leave any sort of impact on her. He looked down at his clothing and shook his head, all the while rubbing his hands brusquely together.

Taking a deep breath, he eventually got up and walked further into the tunnel until he reached what appeared to be a manmade wall. Once he sat down amidst the shadows of this place, he closed his eyes and allowed his thoughts to drift.

After thirty minutes of feeling the wind and rain wafting in from outside, he concluded that there was no other alternative, he would have to go further into the tunnel and see about finding some more adequate shelter for the night. Standing up, he silently waited and when he heard someone coming through the tunnel he hid himself among the shadows until a large man had walked by. He guessed that this was a man, simply because the stature was well over the six foot mark, and the footsteps made were somewhat heavier than that a woman would make.

He watched curiously as the man approached one side of the wall, tapped against it, and watched as it slid away, exposing a series of tunnels and dwellings. Once the man disappeared inside, Andrew hesitantly followed and before the wall could close completely, the human angel had slipped through the small opening and concealed himself up against the wall until the man had all but vanished in the distance.

The angel in human form remained in the shadows as the man descended what appeared to be a large spiral staircase and after a few moments, Andrew followed him, his footsteps soft as to not bring any unnecessary attention to himself. He stopped at one point and pulled out his pocket watch to see how late it was, and to determine if he was to meet any of the tunnel inhabitants at such an hour. When he realized that it was after midnight, he concluded that everyone that may call this place home had obviously settled in for the night and there was no possibility of meeting anyone here.

Once he could see that the man was gone, Andrew's intuition told him that he should continue to walk in the direction of a place known to the underground world as the whispering caverns and spend the night there. Not one to deny the words he believed were commands from the Father, he heeded this suggestion, and continued walking until he reached this large cavern, which provided the listener with whispers from the world above.

It was there in the midst of this place that he realized just how tired he was and within some seconds of finding this magical place, the mute Angel of Death found a small corner to stretch out and after some moments, sleep overcame him.

Part 2

When Travis woke up the following morning, he crawled off of Scott's sofa and went into the bathroom to get dressed. He was still tired, but he figured that if he didn't have to be at work until 12, he would be able to go and check that Eastside Apartment advertisement before going to work. If he could secure himself a place to stay, maybe he would be set for the time being.

Twenty minutes later, he was downstairs walking towards the subway. Scott had been right about one thing, he could borrow the money from his sister, she wouldn't mind, in fact, somewhere deep inside of him, he knew that she would want him to get back on his feet. Why else would she not have responded in an egotistical manner when he had told her that he intended on leaving? Why else would she be so unselfish as to tell him to go and lead his own life?

Travis' Flashback

“Travis, what are you doing here? I thought you would be at work.” Missy asked as her older brother had come into her room and had woken her up.

“Dad and I had a falling out last night,” he said. “Missy, can we talk?”

“Yeah, what time is it?” she asked rubbing her eyes.

“It’s six,” he said. “Dad, Matt, and Justin went to work about half an hour ago.”

“Why are you here?”

“Because, I’m moving out,“ he said simply. “I can’t take anymore.”

“Anymore what?” Missy asked, “I don’t understand.”

Travis ran his hand through his hair. “Missy, I didn’t tell anyone about this, but I had put an application for a job at a radio station. They called the shop yesterday looking for me and Dad answered the phone. I wasn’t there, and they left a message with him saying that I could start immediately.”

“That’s great though, I always knew that you wanted to work with music,” she said. “But what does that have to do with Dad?”

“There is something connecting it, Dad was completely fuming about this,” Travis said softly. “He started yelling at me about family loyalty and that they needed me at the shop,” he sighed deeply. “We’ve always been close, Missy, and you’ve known for a long time that I wanted to do something besides simply work in the dry cleaning business for the rest of my life. I applied for the job back in February, and it’s a chance I never thought I would get. You know I dropped out of school to go to work, because Dad pressured me to. Then I stayed for over four years thinking I didn’t deserve anything better. When I applied for this job, I talked to a guy who understood this, and when I called him back, he said they wanted me regardless of my educational background and he even said that the station would help me get my GED as well as train me as a disc jockey.” Travis’ face shone with excitement, as he looked down at his little sister. “Missy, you know that I don’t want to be stuck in the family business for the rest of my life.”

“You don’t have to explain this to me, Travis,” she said softly.

“You know I do, though,” he said. “I’ve always looked out for you. Remember when you were at Catherine’s and I came and brought all that stuff?”

“Yeah, what about it?”

“Missy, Dad and the others didn’t say anything about you, they didn’t even know that you were away. They didn’t seem to care at all,” Travis said. “The forty dollars I gave you came from my own pocket, not from Dad or the others.”

“Do you want it back, I still have it?” she asked. “Maybe you need it for a new apartment.”

“No, you keep it,” he said softly. “The fact is I’ve been playing the fool, living in denial about what has happened. I’m not blind Missy, I know what has happened, and part of the reason I had stayed here so long is because of you, and how Dad and the others have treated you.”

“But I know now why they do, Travis, maybe now it will be easier,” she said softly.

“What do you mean?”

“The day my book came out, I had hoped that you and the others would stop working so much. It was the only reason I had put so much energy into it,” she wiped the tears from her eyes. “The book was doing well, and everything seemed right. Then I came home from school and started looking around the apartment for something very special to me.” She pulled a photograph from the pocket of her robe and handed it to her brother.

“You found a picture of Mom,” he said softly.

“You remember her, I don’t, but look at me, Travis,” she said softly, her voice cracking. “I look just like her. I could shave my head or dye my hair, and nothing will change, I will still remind them of what they have lost. I cannot put a bag over my head to make them love or accept me.”

“They do love you, Missy, just in their own way,” Travis said softly.

“Do they, or am I just a reminder to them of what could have been?” She looked down at her feet shaking her head. “No, I don’t believe it,” she paused taking a deep breath. “Travis, you can’t stop living because of me. Take this job, be happy, find love, get married, and lead the life you were meant to lead. I don’t need you to protect me from the truth, because that I am already aware of.”

“Missy, I don’t know what to say,” he began.

“You don’t have to say anything. I’ll be OK, but I may run. For the first time in my life, I actually have someplace to run to,” she said softly.

“What do you mean?” he asked.

“I can’t tell you, but all you need to know is that I have people who will be there for me, and will give me what my own family is not capable of giving,” she said softly.

“Missy, you’ll always be my little sister,” he said.

“I need more than to just be your little sister, Travis, and I know you need more, too,” she whispered.

“I know you do,” he said. “That’s why I don’t blame you for wanting to run.”

“I will call the publisher before I go and ask them if they can have the money from the book sent to you,” she said. “Just give me the address of where you’ll be staying.”

“But you’ll need that for college or something,” Travis objected.

“If you don't want it, that's fine, then when you get settled, have the money put into a separate account and when I’m 18, I’ll use it to get my education,“ Missy said softly.

“Are you sure that’s what you want to do?” Travis asked. “The others think that you‘re going to put it into the shop.”

“I figured they would, but the truth is, nothing will change. I will be told I should drop out of school when I turn 16, I will have no choice but to go to work in the shop. I don’t want to, I’ve been isolated long enough and you said yourself that I’m more than just a pair of hands. If they can only love and accept the money, and not me, then why should I give it to them?”

Travis nodded, “you have to do what you feel is right.”

“Just like you,” she said and smiled. “I’m cutting school today, I have some things I have to do.”

Travis nodded and smiled. “Here’s the address where I’ll be staying, it’s with a friend of mine. When I get settled in my own place, I’ll get in touch with you.”

Missy nodded giving her brother a hug. “Good luck, Travis. Keep Catherine’s address with you. That will probably be the best possible way to keep in touch with me.”

Travis' Flashback End

His eyes were brimming with tears as he got on the subway and rode silently out to the eastside. It had been years since he had been to this particular area of the city; he probably had not been there since he was a little boy, but ironically, he still knew the area, as it had not changed all that much.

As he reached the small apartment complex, he could see that an older woman was working out in the garden, her back to him, but he recognized that she was planting lilacs. "Excuse me," he said softly and as she turned around, he smiled weakly as his eyes met a pair of sympathetic brown ones.

"Good morning," the woman said, her voice, like her expression was filled with warmth. "My name is Tess, what can I do for you?"

"I'm looking for an apartment actually, and wanted to find out if there was someone here who would be able to help me. Can you tell me where the leasing office is?"

"It's over there," she pointed to a small office, and as he started to walk towards it, she spoke again, her voice bringing him to a screeching halt. "But, no one is there right now."

"Do you know where they are?" Travis asked softly. "It is kind of urgent."

"Right here talking to you," Tess smiled. "I'm sort of the staff here, official apartment shower, flower planter, I take care of everything around here."

"You're the landlady?"

"Something like that, so tell me, first, what's your name?" Tess asked as she wiped her hands on a towel and threw it in a nearby bucket.

"Travis Parks," he offered.

"Parks, now where have I heard that name before?" Tess asked.

"My sister is Melissa Parks, she wrote a book some months ago," he said.

"Ah yes, the young poet, so do you write poetry too?" Tess asked as they went towards the door leading into the small office.

"Not really, I'm more into music," he said. "I'm sort of working at KLOM's AM affiliate these days."

"Sort of?"

"Well, I started about a week ago, and they're still testing me to see if I know my way around the station," he said.

"I see, well why don't I show you what we have available. I have a couple of one bedroom apartments, and pretty soon, we'll have a studio," she said.

"Well, if the studio is available, then that's probably the best," he said.

"That's a slight problem, as it won't be renovated at least until the first of August, so you would have to wait a little before moving in, at least five weeks. Come on, we'll go and take a look at the two units that are available and maybe between the two of us, we can probably find you something that is ready right now."

Travis' spirits plummeted, but he followed the woman into the office, watched as she retrieved a large key ring. They walked back outside and into the courtyard and once they had reached an apartment, she stuck one of the many keys into the lock and turned it before pulling the door open. Next, she ushered him into a small, but fully furnished one-bedroom apartment.

As she showed him through the rooms, he started thinking about Missy and how this would be a great place for her to start over. Shaking his head, he realized that it was not possible, the apartment was too expensive and he was convinced that Missy was gone for good.

Noticing his silence, Tess looked at him. "Is everything OK, baby?"

"I was just thinking about whether or not I could afford such a nice apartment," he whispered softly to himself.

"Well, the apartment is 700 dollars a month, all inclusive," Tess said. "There's a thousand dollar security deposit on it that we have to accept up-front, but if you can handle that, then you can move in today."

Travis took a deep breath, but after a few moments, he shook his head. "Thanks, but I don't think I can afford it."

Tess nodded; she could tell that something was holding Travis Parks back. "Why don't we go back to the office and talk about it? This is a rather intense decision that you are making, and chances are, you probably need to think about it at least a little bit."

When he saw the truth in her words, he followed her slowly out of the apartment.

Once outside, he looked at her. "I guess you deal with a lot of indecisive people in this business, huh?"

Tess smiled gently as they went back into the office. "I know about how hard it is to pave out one's future when one sits in the shadow of somewhat else's fame." She pulled out a copy of his sister's book and placed it on the desk.

After a few moments, he nodded numbly.

"Travis, if you really want the apartment, we can work with you on it, but don't be afraid to try and make something out of your life, sometimes, you have to take a risk in order to find the answers you're looking for," Tess said, but as she looked intently at him, she pulled a printed out lease out of the nearby desk drawer and laid it on top of his sister's book.

Missy's words continued to filter back through his mind. How was it that a twelve-year-old could teach a twenty-year-old so much about life, but she had, because he made the decision and accepted the piece of paper from Tess.

"Somehow, I will get through all of this," he said softly.

"You will, baby," Tess smiled and after they had made all arrangements and all the paperwork had been signed, she extended a key to him. "If you need anything at all to make this easier for you, you just let me know. I'm in apartment 39."

Travis nodded and once he had retrieved all the copies of the paperwork as well as the key to his new home, he left the office.

Tess remained inside as he was leaving and with a smile on her face, she nodded. "Thank you, Father," she said softly as she watched the young man disappearing in the distance.

~*~*~*~*~

At the same time, Missy awoke to hear someone calling out her name. When she recognized the voice as belonging to Vincent, she sat up and reached for the robe that was lying at the foot of her bed. As she put it on, she crawled out of bed. “Yes?” she called out somewhat shyly.

"Good morning,” Vincent called from the tunnel corridor. “May I come in?”

“Yeah, sure, please,” Missy said as she lit a candle. She turned around and smiled when she saw him entering the chamber. “Am I late for my lessons?” she asked him.

“No, you’re not, actually, it’s Saturday, so today there aren’t any,” he said.

“I guess being down here, I sort of lose track of what day it is,” she smiled weakly. “I must admit, although I like them, I’m glad to actually have a day off. I guess adjusting to all of these changes is a lot more difficult than I thought it would be.”

He smiled. “But, you are doing well?”

She nodded, “I guess so.” Somehow the usual energy wasn’t in her voice, and he could detect that something was not exactly right with her.

“Is something wrong?”

“No, I guess I’m just kind of drowsy,” she replied not wishing to burden him anymore than she already had done. “What time is it, anyway?”

“It’s still pretty early, but I wanted to come by and see if you would like to eat breakfast with me,” he said. “I rarely see you anymore.”

“I’m sorry, I guess I’ve kind of been neglecting you these days. I’ve been spending all my extra time with Jamie,” she said smiling shyly.

“Don’t worry, Missy, I don’t feel neglected,” he said as he looked around her chamber. “You must have been very busy because you seem to not have had sufficient time to unpack yet, hmm?”

“Not really, between lessons, chores, and learning my way around, I haven’t had much time to do anything,” she admitted. “It’s weird because I really need to get it done, but every time I start, I get a bit sidetracked because I find something that reminds me of what has happened, gifts I received, or something else that made me stop and reflect on it. I can’t really explain it, though.”

“I think I understand, you have emotional attachments with the memories some of these things bring to you,” he said.

“I guess so.” She sighed deeply, there was a trace of sadness in her voice. “Vincent, what’s wrong with me? I should be happy, but every time I even try to go through these things, it makes me sad, and I end up going off with Jamie as a sort of escape from it? I feel like I’m running away, like I always have to escape from something.”

“The past?”

She nodded.

“You cannot run from it, Missy, you should never force yourself to do that, besides, I don’t believe that anyone here thinks you are,” he said gently.

“Perhaps, but I think I do. The truth is, I don’t want people to pity me, but how can I help it when I get sad about my mom or about what had happened with my father?” She asked.

“I don’t know, Missy, but if you want me to help with anything, you can always ask,” he said gently.

“I don’t want any special treatment or your pity,” she said softly.

“I know you don’t, but you also know that you are among friends, and you remember what I told you some time ago, about friends being there for each other, don’t you?”

She looked down at her lap. “There’s so much to do here, I feel embarrassed about asking you to help me with it. I know I can’t do it on my own though.”

“Then I will help you with it. Why don’t I meet you at the dining chamber and then afterwards we can come back here and get started?”

“You’d do that?” she asked. “But, I thought you had other things to do?”

“Yes, I have a few things that need to be tended to, but I’ll make time for them a little bit later, maybe you could help me with a few of these tasks,” he said gently. “At the very least, it will give us some time to talk. Maybe we can even find some time to do something fun like go back to the whispering caverns.”

“That sounds great, thank you, Vincent,” she said as he turned to go. “I’ll come as soon as I get dressed.”

“I’ll save you a place,” he said and was gone.

She pulled some clothing from her dresser and quickly got dressed. As soon as she ran a brush through her hair, she left her room and was following the tunnel in the direction of the dining chamber.

When she arrived, she discovered that most of the tunnel inhabitants were already there, seated, and enjoying their breakfasts. She went over and grabbed a plate filled with oatmeal and when she turned back around, she spotted Vincent, seated at one of the tables, an empty seat next to him. She walked over to where he was seated. “Hi,” she said as he reached over and pulled the chair back from the table. As she sat down, she could see Jamie had arrived and was sitting with Mouse. “I never ate oatmeal before coming here,” she began, “but now I really like it, especially with brown sugar.”

Vincent smiled, “I think everyone likes the way William fixes it.”

Missy dug her spoon in the bowl. “Yeah, and it sure beats that boxed stuff I used to eat above. That mush was only good for laying bricks.”

Upon hearing those words emerging from her, one of the boys at the table began to laugh, his voice emerging as though he had the hiccups. Missy smiled weakly and continued to eat.

As soon as she had finished, she glanced over and could see that Vincent was still seated and was now waiting patiently for her to finish. She stood up and reached for both her and his dishes. “I’ll be right back,” she said softly as she took the dishes to the kitchen. “I’m sorry, William,” she began to speak once she had come inside. “I can’t help with the dishes this morning. Vincent said he’d help me unpack today. Can I help with the dishes after dinner tonight instead?”

William nodded, “yes, I’ll get some of the others to help this morning,” he said as she smiled gratefully.

She returned to where Vincent was waiting and they left the dining chamber.

“How have you been doing this past week?” Vincent finally asked as soon as they had reached her chamber.

“I guess I’m OK,” she said softly as she sat down on the bed. Self-consciously, she reached for her stuffed tiger.

“Who’s this?” Vincent asked noticing her actions and smiling at her.

“Tigger, I named him from the character in ‘Winnie the Pooh’,” she said softly. “Travis gave him to me for my birthday when I was four. I’ve had him ever since, I guess I’m kind of attached to him.”

He went over to one of the boxes and began to pull out cassette tapes. “I’m afraid I have never really listened to the music you seem to like,” he began.

“Father said last night that he would get me some batteries, but I still have two in there if you want to hear something, I can play a tape,” Missy said softly. “Most of it is older music. I was never really into modern stuff.”

“What do you like?” he asked. “I don’t really know your music, so it would be hard for me to select something appropriate.”

“Then close your eyes and pick something,” she said as she put Tigger back on her pillow.

Vincent did as she requested and pulled out a tape. He handed it to her and she put it into the player. As soon as she had adjusted the volume she pressed the play button and after a moment, soft music filled the chamber. “What is that?”

“Music from West Side Story. I read it in English class earlier this year, and liked it so much that I bought the tape I guess two weeks after we met. My favorite song from it is ‘Somewhere’ it’s so beautiful,” she said. “You know that this is kind of a musical version of ‘Romeo and Juliet'.”

Vincent shook his head, “I’m afraid I don’t know too much about it.”

“But there is so much you do know, so it evens out,” she said softly.

“Perhaps, but now I think we need to get busy,” he said softly. “I’ll unpack your things and you tell me where they go.”

“No, because then it looks like you’re doing all the work,” she said shaking her head. “I didn’t ask you to help me so you would do all the work. That’s not fair.”

She walked over to one of the boxes and opened it. As she began to pull objects out, she sighed deeply as she ran her hand across the texture of a small porcelain angel. This was going to be much more difficult for her to do than she thought. “Missy?” She heard Vincent’s voice suddenly breaking into her thoughts.

“Sorry, I guess I did it again,” she said softly. “This was my mother’s figurine, she used to have it on the coffee table back at the apartment, and I liked it so much, but after she died, my father destroyed just about everything that belonged to her. I managed to save this little angel figure,” she paused taking a deep breath all the while running her hand lovingly over the surface of the porcelain object. After a few moments, she spoke again, her voice somewhat hesitant. “Vincent, do you believe in angels?"

"I believe in the possibility of the existence of angels," he said softly as he stopped what he was doing and looked at her. "What is it, Missy, what's wrong?"

"Why do you suppose my father would try to block out my mom? I mean, you said that he loved her, but the way he behaves, I sometimes wonder if he even knows what love is.”

“You ask me this because of the way he treated you, don't you?" He asked. "I mean; how did he behave when your mother was still alive?”

“I guess he was OK, but that was so long ago, I don’t really remember my father ever having been a good sort of person to me.” She looked down at her feet. “All week long, I have asked myself if my mother would have understood why I left? I sometimes wonder if I was just being coward for leaving. Maybe my father really needs me and somehow I abandoned him.”

“You didn’t abandon anyone, Missy, and you must realize that you are not responsible for taking care of your father, he is the one who should have been taking care of you,” he said gently. “I feel your sadness, and I understand it, but you must never blame yourself for what has happened in your family. From what I have been able to understand about it, you had done everything you could.”

She nodded numbly as she placed the angel next to the photograph of her mother. “I suppose you’re right, but do you think my mom would be disappointed in me?”

“If your mother was the same person you described, she would be very proud of you, and she would love you so much," he said softly. "There exists absolutely no reason for you to feel that you are undeserving of her love.”

Missy nodded as she began to pull another object out of the box, this time it was the notebook she had filled with poetry about him. It was not even close to Christmas, but when she looked at him, she knew it was the right time to give her gift to him. “Vincent, I was going to wait and give you this at Christmas, but I changed my mind. I want to give it to you now.”

He accepted the notebook and opened it. On the top page, was the handwritten poem ‘Treasured Friend’. He began to flip through the pages. “Thank you, Missy,” he said as soon as he closed the notebook. He went over to the bed and laid it gently on top of the quilt.

~*~*~*~*~

When she and Vincent had finished organizing her chamber, Missy realized how much she needed some time to herself so she decided to go for a walk, and Vincent seemed to understand this and so he let her go off by herself for the afternoon.

Missy walked slowly through the tunnels, she finally knew her way around and she wanted to take advantage of the time she now had to herself. Dinner would be served in about three hours, but that didn't really matter because, she had just had lunch, and was not hungry.

She looked around the darkened tunnel and contemplated how she longed to see the sun. It never occurred to her how much she missed the bright light of day, and now she understood how Vincent must feel having to stay in the tunnels only to emerge when the sun went down. She remembered how when she was visiting the tunnels, it was one thing, but now that she lived there, she understood this concept of the grass being greener on the other side of the fence simply because she now felt a grave sense of isolation there. Everything was new and different, and yes, though it was nice, it was quickly becoming the only reality that she knew, and somehow she was feeling more and more like Anne Frank as time passed by and she had spent more time there.

As she reached the entrance to the whispering cavern, she could feel the tears now streaming down her cheeks and she wiped them away as she walked out onto the bridge and sat down in the middle of it, the whispers from above drifting down and filling her ears. As she sat there practically in a meditative sense, she did not notice that someone was now watching her and she nearly fell off the bridge when she suddenly felt a hand on her shoulder. As her weight became wobbly, the person who had startled her tightened his hold on her so that she would not fall. When she finally did manage to steady herself, she looked up and could see that the man had sat down next to her on the bridge, his legs dangling over the crevice.

As she made eye contact with him, she spoke, her voice trembling. "W-who are you and what do you want?" As she regarded him, her eyes were filled with mistrust and fear. For some reason, her initial response was telling her that perhaps he was a reporter and he was disguised in this clothing in order to find her. Looking back at him for a split second and then back down into the cavern, she suddenly dismissed this assertion as well as any ideas that presumed that his presence could be considered dangerous. When she finally found the courage to look into his sad green eyes, her defensive front literally melted away and she saw the epitome of sadness and loss.

The man's eyes were still looking down at her, but after a few moments had passed, his attention was diverted back to the whispers of the caverns and he stared into the depths of the crevice. After a few moments of silence, he reached over and touched her shoulder, thus causing her to turn and look at him. He placed a forefinger over his lips and ran it across the surface of his mouth as an indicator that he could not speak, but she shook her head, not able to fully understand his silent communication. He tried again, this time, he pressed his hand gently against his throat and tapped it softly.

"Oh, I understand, you can't speak, can you?" She finally asked him all the while he continued to pantomime these strange gestures to her.

Upon hearing her question, he shook his head sadly, and she could have sworn that there were tears brimming from beneath his despondent green eyes.

After a few moments passed, she looked at him and somewhere deep inside of her, she understood him. He looks so lost, and all alone, Missy thought sadly to herself. As she looked at him, she realized that she felt badly for having initially reacted to him in such a shocked and fearful manner. He's obviously homeless; she continued to contemplate, all the while taking in his haggard and dirty appearance.

"My name is Melissa, uh, Missy," she said and pointed to herself as she spoke, but when he reached over and took her hands in his and shook his head, she knew that he could understand her words and these other gestures were not necessary. "What's your name?" She asked almost automatically. "I mean; here's a piece of paper and pen, you can write it down." She handed him these objects so that he could communicate his responses.

The man accepted this and wrote something down before handing her the slip of paper. She glanced down and read the name. "Your name is Andrew?" He nodded and she continued, her voice soft. "That's a really beautiful name." She smiled weakly when he sneezed and she noticed that he was not looking well at all, in fact, his face looked rather pale. "Are you getting sick, Andrew?" She asked after he had sneezed once again and she reached over to touch his forehead. As she did, she could feel that he was, in fact, warm.

The human angel shook his head, but she guessed that he probably didn't realize how sick he might actually be. After some time had passed, he broke contact with her and started to mimic the rain as it would fall on him, and Missy could see that he was trying in every possible way to communicate with her without always having to write down his thoughts and ideas. "How did you find this place?"

He shrugged his shoulders and continued to mimic to her and she nodded.

"The rain?" He nodded as she did the same movement with her hands. "The rain from the storm fell on you and got you all wet and you had to come into the tunnels for protection?"

Andrew nodded as he wrapped his arms around himself and shivered slightly.

"You were cold?" Missy asked softly and when he nodded but failed to stop shivering, she continued to speak, her voice filled with empathy. "I think you're still cold," she whispered as she removed the woolen sweater, the one article of clothing that was the top layer of her outfit and offered it to him. "Here, take this, it might help."

He shook his head and held up his hands in negation, but she wouldn't take any objections from him, instead she inched over to wards him and wrapped the warm and extra large sized sweater around his shoulders in the hope that he would stop shivering. "You need this more than I do, I think you know that."

Thank you, he mouthed the words to her and she nodded knowing what he was wishing to convey. Once he had managed to put the sweater on, she noticed that he had stopped shivering somewhat, and this came as a relief to her, but his face was still damp from the fever, and she was concerned as to how long he had been down here on his own.

Instead of going into this, she looked back over at him, and noticed that he had started to relax. "Do you like this place, Andrew?" She asked after a few moments of silence had passed between then and she stared down into the bottomless cavern.

He shrugged his shoulders and his gaze came to rest on the exact same cavern she was staring into with unhidden captivation in her expression. After some time had passed, he eventually nodded.

"It's beautiful isn't it?" She asked softly all the while trying to break the awkward silence that seemed to be engulfing them. How she wished this handsome man could speak, as it would be much nicer for her to have a dialogue with him. He was a stranger, but at the same time, she felt somewhat gratified in knowing that he was not involved in her somewhat chaotic life. He did not know her family, and it seemed as though he did not know about her overnight success. He could not use her, he just looked as though he would accept her, as well as understand anything she would want to tell him.

When she remained silent for a few more moments, she eventually felt his hand on her shoulder and she glanced back over to see him nodding his head in response to her inquiry. He held his hand over his face and made a circular motion over it. Missy somehow understood and she mimed this motion, but spoke. "Beautiful?"

Andrew nodded and repeated the motion with his hand, but after a few moments, he looked serenely at her and pointed at her and repeated the motion.

"Me?" Another nod, and she could feel a tear escaping from beneath her eyelid. "You see me as beautiful."

Andrew smiled as he repeated this motion yet again, but this time, he placed his hand over his heart.

Upon seeing him respond to her in this manner, she eventually understood that he was telling her that she had a beautiful spirit and embarrassed, she looked down at her lap, her eyes filling with tears, and oddly enough, she could not understand why. All that she knew was besides his inability to speak, she understood that he would not judge her, he had no chances of telling her that she was being foolish for whatever emotions she may have been experiencing. Her thoughts drifted to her mother, and how lost and alone she had been feeling ever since Judith Parks had died.

When she felt a gentle hand on her shoulder again, she glanced back over and her eyes met the green eyes of Andrew. How he wanted to speak to her, but the words would not come, he was mute, and he had to find a way to express without verbal language the emotions he felt upon seeing her sadness and hearing her words.

After a few moments, Missy looked over at him, the tears still streaming from beneath her eyes, but as she regarded him, something in his eyes told her that he shared a similar feeling of isolation as she did.

"You're lonely too, aren't you?" She finally asked.

Andrew nodded and with his hands he tried to communicate with the empathic young girl, who was sitting next to him. Eventually, he reached over and brushed the tears from beneath her unhappy eyes. His motion showing her that he cared and she managed to look at him. "You're so beautiful, Andrew," she whispered. "I know that this sounds stupid, but I think there's something really special about you."

There was no questions left in his mind, the Angel of Death had found his assignment, but he still did not know how being mute could possibly help him try to help this child find the closure and peace that she so desperately needed. Sighing deeply, he reached for her hands and stroked them gently with his own, all the while realizing that maybe he would just have to wait and see what the Father had in store for all of them.

~*~*~*~*~

At three that afternoon, Travis Parks stood waiting for Catherine Chandler in the lobby of the radio station. After five minutes of waiting for her, he spotted her as she came across the courtyard in the direction of where he was standing. He noticed that she looked to be out of breath, her hair was pulled back; a gentle smile was on her face and a briefcase in her hand.

"Travis, I'm sorry I'm running a little late this afternoon," she greeted him after she had approached and together, they walked away from the building and in the direction of where a small deli was. Once they had gone inside, they ordered something to eat and went back outside to sit on the terrace as they waited for their orders to be brought out to them.

"No, it's no trouble, I had just come down myself. Anyway, it's really a beautiful day don't you think?"

"Yes, it is," she said as she sat down across from him.

"Where do I start?"

"Well, first tell me about what you experienced with these reporters," Catherine pulled a small tape recorder from her pocket and placed it on the table. She pressed the record and play buttons simultaneously and pushed the object over in front of him. "Travis Parks, case number 21148. OK, you can start at any time."

"Yeah, OK, about three days after the book came out, I started noticing a change in Missy's behavior. I would see her during the mornings before going to work, and she looked exhausted, but there was something else, she seemed almost paranoid every time I would see her. She would be looking over her shoulder as though she was being followed, or stalked by someone. It was weird and almost eerie. Then about a week after the book had come out, I was working with my brothers and father at the shop and Missy came running into the place, absolute horror on her face, and without saying a word, she literally dives over the counter. If I hadn't have been there and caught her, she would probably have hit her head against the floor and suffered a concussion. Anyway, there she was hiding behind the counter, shaking like a leaf, and I looked down at her and said 'Missy, are you OK?' She peered up at me and practically pleaded with me by saying: 'Travis, please don't tell them I'm here'. Seconds later, these two women come in. I knew immediately that they weren't regular customers because they had no claim ticket, but they also had nothing to drop off, so I guessed that they were reporters. I had also seen them before, they were doing nothing, but they would just be hanging around the entrance to our apartment building."

Catherine pulled out two photographs, and placed them in front of him. "These two women?"

"Yeah, that's them, and Catherine, they were the worst of the lot. I'll never forget the day they had come into the shop because they were basically looking around the place as though they were trying to case it out. After maybe five minutes of standing around not saying a word to any of us, they finally gave up and left."

"How did Missy react to all of this?" Catherine asked. "Was she scared?"

"Well wouldn't you be, I mean, she had what some would call a nervous breakdown right there behind the counter," Travis began, but she could see that he was starting to get angry. "Then instead of coming and helping her, my dad got mad at her and said that she was disrupting the business and that I should get her out of there. I had to take her home and help her. It took at least three hours to get her to calm down, but the problem was not so much that they had been there, this time it was how our father responded to her. I think she started to realize that there were more pressing problems than journalists harassing her, there were serious problems happening from within the family."

Catherine nodded, but instead of asking him to elaborate, she had to get him back on topic. "Do you remember any other incidents that happened with these reporters?" She eventually asked after a little bit of time had passed.

"Not really that much, I only remember what happened when I saw her at your apartment," he said softly.

Travis' Flashback

“Catherine Chandler?” Travis spoke as soon as Catherine had opened the front door.

“Yes,” she said.

“I’m Travis Parks, Missy’s brother,” he said.

“Come in,” she said and he dragged the bags inside.

“What’s all this?” she asked.

“Missy asked me to bring it, so you’ll have to ask her, cause I haven’t the faintest idea,” Travis said. “Is she awake?”

“No, she fell asleep again,” she said.

“How did you come to meet her, anyway?” Travis asked.

“We met through the Career Day assembly at her school, that was about three months ago,” she answered. “I had to come in and talk about what it’s like being a lawyer.”

“Well, I’m guessing I should tell you that I’m glad she did meet you. I mean, with us, it’s hard, because my dad and brothers are trying to keep the business open. It hasn’t been so easy for her because we’re always working.”

“I know, Missy told me,” she said gently.

They walked into the living room; Travis went over and sat down on the sofa next to his little sister. “Missy, come on girl, time to get up,” he said softly.

Missy wearily opened her eyes and looked into the soft eyes of her oldest brother. “Travis?”

“Yeah, I’m here, Sis,” he whispered. “I brought your stuff, and Dad asked me to bring you some pocket money.” He pulled out 40 dollars and handed it to her.

“He’s not mad at me?” she asked weakly.

“No, he’s worried about you, we all are. He was wary about you staying here the week, but I assured him that you were in good hands, and told him that it might lessen the burden you’re under right now since we’re always working and those reporters just won’t let up,” he said.

“No, they won't,” she said softly.

“Are you sure you’re OK?” He finally asked.

“I’m just tired,” she said hugging him. “Thanks for bringing my stuff.”

“Hey, that’s what older brothers are for,” he said softly. “Take care of yourself, get lots of rest this week, OK?”

She nodded numbly.

“Go back to sleep, now. You’ve had a rough day, and need it. I’ll come back and pick you up a week from Sunday, OK? Maybe, by then things will have lightened up on you.”

Missy nodded, “OK, thanks, Travis.”

Travis turned to Catherine who was standing in the doorway. “If you need to get in touch with us, here’s our number at the shop, and at home. You will probably have a better chance of reaching us at the shop, so I’d try there first.”

“Thank you, Travis,” Catherine said.

He looked at her, shaking his head, “I don’t know what it is about you, but somehow I know she’s in good hands.”

“She is, I won’t let anything happen to her,” Catherine said softly.

Travis nodded and left the apartment, closing the door firmly behind him.

Travis' Flashback End

"Now I have to tell you that all that stuff about my dad being worried about her, that was a lie, and she knows that now, but how can a parent just stop caring for what their child has been through?"

"I'm afraid it happens, Travis, probably more often than either of us realize," Catherine said softly. "Anyway, continue.

"Well, there's not much else to say. After Missy pulled this disappearing act over spring break, I had another run in with those two reporters. This time, I said something, probably something that I shouldn't have, but I was getting so angry with them. It should be a crime what they were doing."

"It is a crime, Travis, now tell me," she said.

"Well, it was after I left your apartment, I was walking down the street in the direction of where I lived with my father and brothers and the two women came over to me and one of them asked me if I knew where Missy was. I told her that if I did I wouldn't be foolish enough to tell her about it, because I figured that it would be about as logical as giving a wolf access to a field full of sheep. I know that sounds so petty, but I was angry. Anyway, they got rude with me and said something to the effect of, 'we will find your sister; she can't hide forever'. It sounded like a threat, and I thought I should tell someone, but I didn't know who, and then last night you told me that your office was prosecuting them, so here I am."

Catherine shut off the recorder and smiled at him. "Thank you."

"So what's going to happen now?"

"Well, this tape will be given to my boss, and we will push for a hearing. The court will notify you and if the judge approves of this being a case of harassment and possibly stalking, than we will have a hearing and possibly go to trial. It will be there that your testimony will be of the utmost importance."

Travis nodded. "I sometimes wonder what would have happened had Missy not written that book."

"She would probably still be dealing with rejection by your father and brothers, and she would not know how much you love her," Catherine said gently. "Travis, you need to understand that that book happened for a reason and it was not the popularity that made Missy run away from her life or her family, it was simply rejection."

"Rejection? Then it must be true, I did fail her, Catherine. I didn't do anything good for her, I feel as though I took something very special and important away from her when I left," he said softly.

"In a sense, you had to, but this action had an impact on her, because what you took out of her life was yourself. Yet, through it all, she knew that you would not have been able to take her with you," she paused hoping that her words would not hurt him. "You also knew that you would have to eventually find your own way, Travis, and Missy has known that ever since this all started. She knows you tried and heaven forbid, don't ever believe for an instant that you failed her, because you didn't, you had to take some time to look out for yourself, to seek out your values. Sadly society has labeled that as being selfish, but sometimes, you have to be. You sometimes have to have the courage to do for yourself, simply because when you look to the future, it will enable you to do for another at the proper and necessary time."

"It sounds like you're saying that me leaving her to face my father and brothers was the right decision," he said softly.

"As strange as it sounds, that decision was a sort of catalyst response that Missy needed, and she made some decisions based on those specific choices. This is, by no means, your fault, it is just the way of things." She smiled gently at him as she reached across the table and squeezed his hand. "Let go of the guilt. Missy would not want you to dwell on all of this because she loves you and when she's ready, she's really going to need you."

~*~*~*~*~

Andy left the building where he worked later that afternoon. He normally did not work on weekends, but he had been transcribing the tapes for his article on Missy and he wanted to get the introduction and conclusion to his article edited before he would go and show her what he had done. He hoped that she would like this as he had put so much extra effort into what he had written. At the same time, he figured that since meeting Monica the day before, he probably would not have any chance to go back to the tunnels as he normally had done once she would start working there.

Regardless of how nice and understanding the new reporter was; keeping the tunnel world a secret was top priority. However, deep inside, he somehow knew that Mr. Franklin would assign Monica to work with him during the course of her internship. He also knew this because of how he had been placed after starting at 'Expression'. His editor was many things, and one of them, his actions seemed almost readable.

Taking a deep breath, he sighed as he remembered the events that followed right after he had met Missy the first time. The young girl was absolutely one of the most incredible people he had ever seen. He remembered how he had met up with her later, in the tunnels when she had spent her spring holiday there. He could not help but contemplate what had transpired, which had brought her there, the relentless reporters who literally had chased a pre-teen girl across the streets of New York City, directly to the front door of Catherine Chandler's apartment.

Sighing deeply, Andy remembered how at home Missy seemed to be with the tunnel community, but that was before she had moved there permanently. Today, he wondered how she was fairing, and if she was feeling the same sense of isolation he felt when he could not go above to see the sunshine.

There existed no question in his mind, he related to Missy on so many levels, sometimes to the point where it was downright scary. He understood that her knowledge of the truth about his own past could very easily leave a dramatic impact on the young girl and possibly their friendship. If only he could find the courage to share that part of his past with her. He realized that she had known for some time about his connection to Vincent and Jacob, but she did not know why he was connected to them, and this was something he would have preferred to have kept as his own secret, but somewhere deep inside of him, he knew that there was no way he could tell her part of the truth, and not all of it.

Andy's Flashback

Andy Hudson smiled weakly as he looked at the assistant D.A., “Hi, Catherine, I need to talk to you about something really important. Do you have time for lunch?”

“Sure, I was just going to go to the cafeteria and grab a bite to eat, how does that sound?” she asked and once he nodded she turned towards Edie, a friend and colleague of hers. “I’ll see you this afternoon, OK? I’m going to lunch.”

Edie nodded as Catherine began to walk with Andy towards the elevators. “What’s going on?” she asked once they had reached it and she had pressed the button to go down. When the doors eventually opened, they stepped inside.

The young man sighed as he ran his hand through his hair. “I think something really bad is about to happen,” he whispered. “I can’t seem to shake it.”

“What do you mean?” Catherine asked.

“Did you see the book Missy Parks wrote?” he asked. “The one with all her poetry in it?”

“Yes, in fact, she gave me a copy,” Catherine said.

“So I had heard right, you are friends with her.”

“Yes, we met some time ago, why?”

“This is off the record, Catherine, but is she at your apartment now?” Andy asked. “I’m not going to go harass her or anything, but I overheard two people who have that intention. I just want to know if she’s safe.”

Catherine looked into the eyes of the young reporter. “No, she’s not at my apartment,” she said honestly. “She’s with Vincent.”

“You sent her below?” Andy whispered.

Catherine nodded.

As the elevator reached the floor, they came out of the elevator and walked down the hall in the direction of the cafeteria. Once inside, Andy looked at her as they got in line and Catherine reached for a plate of food. Andy grabbed a glass and a can drink and followed her to a table. “Catherine, I guess I should tell you, the magazine sent me to interview her on Thursday. I did go, and as luck would have it, I got a chance to sit down and talk to her for about an hour. She’s really a nice girl.”

“Then it was you?” Catherine asked sitting down.

“Excuse me?” he asked as he opened his drink and poured it into a glass.

“Missy said that she had given what she had hoped to have been her last interview on Thursday, so I’m guessing she had meant that it was the interview you had conducted with her,” Catherine said. “I always knew you had more heart than your average reporter, Andy.”

“I’m not just a reporter, Catherine, I think you know that,” he began.

“I know,” she said jabbing her fork into the food on her plate.

“I mean, you know that I was also a part of that world for over 14 years and I suppose that once a person finds that, it becomes something that will always remain.” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. “Without Father’s guidance I wouldn’t have become the person that I am.”

“I understand, but that was over ten years ago, and no one had seen you in the tunnels in a very long time,” Catherine whispered shrugging her shoulders. “What I’m trying to say is that one could only be left to assume that you had forgotten. I mean; I’m glad you didn’t change over the course of these years.”

“One should never forget their roots, and though I was adopted there when my folks died, the community below are my family and I would give everything up to protect them,” Andy said softly. “But, I don’t understand, how is it that Missy had come to meet Vincent?”

“It was accidental, happened about three months ago. From what Vincent told me and what he said was rather sketchy, but anyway, she had somehow gotten through the Central Park entrance, and got stuck in one of Mouse’s traps,” she whispered. “Vincent had heard her crying, and went to help. Since then, they’ve been friends, and I guess somehow, the loneliness that Missy experienced above has basically brought them together and today their bond of friendship is very strong.”

“This kind of friendship is very significant, I know,” he said. “I know from speaking with her that she has not dealt with this celebrity thing all that well. I mean, she’s pretty fragile, isn’t she?”

“Yes, she is, that’s why I asked Vincent if she could stay below for the week,” Catherine said. “I had a feeling those two reporters that we played cat and mouse with on Friday would eventually come back.”

“They will, as we speak they’re trying to find out where you live. I’m guessing they’re going to go and stake out your apartment now. When they dropped your name, I decided that it would be best to come here and tell you. I suppose after I get off work tonight, I should also go and tell Father.”

“You should,” Catherine said softly.

Andy's Flashback End

Andy took a deep breath as he glanced back over towards the building where he worked and then in the direction of the legal building where Catherine worked. He had only seen her twice since Missy had moved below and he was fully aware of the circumstances regarding the young girl and why it was that she had disappeared. It angered him whenever he thought about what it was her father and brothers had done, simply because it reminded him too much of what he had been through.

How was it that someone who was as gifted as Missy, would have to cope with such terrible traumas? He often asked himself this question. It was bad enough that the tabloids were making her life into a spy novel, but to not even have the support of her family, that was simply too much for him.

As he walked, all he could think about were his own parents, and what had happened to them. He had told everyone that they had been killed, but that was a lie, they were still alive, but because of their attitude towards him, in Andy Hudson's heart, they had died when he was six.

Shaking his head, he walked slowly towards the subway, which would take him to Central Park. It was a nice evening, rather warm for this time of year, but it was also clear, and he could see the stars beginning to peek out, as it got darker.

He disappeared into the underground subway all the while thinking about his pending visit with Missy. He did not dread going to see her, in fact, he seemed rather happy about it, yet, he wondered what he would say to her and whether or not what he had to say would hold any significance at all. It only took ten minutes from the subway station to reach the park, and as he climbed up the stairs that would lead out of the underground, he was awed by the beautiful evening they were having.

Behind him, but watching at a distance, Monica stood, her eyes following his every movement. She knew that she would not be able to directly interact with him until Monday, but she needed to find out more about him, so she continued to follow him, but at an undetectable distance. "The truth will set you free," Monica whispered often, but whether he could hear or words or understand what she was trying to convey remained a mystery and she continued to watch and follow him in angelic form as he walked out onto the sidewalk.

As he got closer to Central Park, he could not help but remembered when he had gotten angry with Missy that one night and how he had abruptly appeared in the tunnels and had frightened her. Sighing deeply, he continued to walk slowly in the direction of the tunnel entrance.

In the distance, he could see a shadowed figure, and he walked slowly towards it, all the while trying to keep his composure. When he reached the entrance, he immediately recognized that Vincent had used the night's shadows as an excuse to escape above.

As Andy came closer, Vincent turned around and when he recognized who was approaching, he spoke, his voice soft and deep. “We were not aware that you were coming tonight.”

“I wasn’t either until my editor called me this morning and asked me to get the article finished and have it on his desk by Monday morning,” Andy said honestly.

“You’ve come to see Missy, correct?” Vincent asked softly.

“Not just her, I came to visit you as well,” he replied. “It’s been so long since we’ve had a chance to talk. Don’t you miss that?”

Vincent nodded, “I had often missed those times when we spoke to one another, and I did contemplate whether or not you had forgotten about us or that we were no longer a part of your world.”

“You’ll always be a part of my world, I mean we’re brothers, aren’t we?” Andy asked.

Missy had used that term to describe them, and after a few moments hesitation, Vincent nodded, “yes, brothers.”

“How is Missy doing?” he asked as they walked through the wide mouth of the pipe and into a tunnel.

“She’s fine,” Vincent said softly. "This afternoon, she spent some time alone. I think she needed some time to think about things." He paused and looked at Andy. "And how are things going with you?"

“I think you would be surprised with what I have done with her story,” Andy said. “I have spent all afternoon working on the transcript and I hoped that she will like what I have done.”

“I am certain that she will be pleased with your work,” Vincent said softly as they descended the spiral staircase.

~*~*~*~*~

At this moment, Missy was in her chamber. She had spent much of the afternoon with Andrew, trying to help him find a place to stay, but keeping his presence in the tunnels to herself, as she did not want to disrupt things there and she remembered how much trouble her own presence there had created. She could still not forget the look that was on the face of Jacob when she first had met him.

Missy's Flashback

"There are a number of people who live down here, many of them children, abandoned and alone. Very few people from up there,” Catherine said as she pointed back in the direction they had come, thus indicating the world above. “Those who already know about this place, we call ‘Helpers’, because they assist the tunnel community. For this reason, Vincent has asked you to not speak of him or of the tunnels to anyone. I’m going to take you to Father first, he’s a doctor, so maybe he can give you something for your nose, OK?”

“Is his real name ‘Father’?” she asked feeling somewhat intimidated about going to see someone other than Vincent.

“No, it's Jacob, but it is what everyone calls him. Although he is very stern, he’s a kind man and is very wise,” Catherine answered.

Missy nodded and continued to follow Catherine until they reached Jacob’s chamber. Vincent and Jacob were seated inside, a chessboard separating them. Out of relief to have seen him, Missy began to cry as she called out Vincent’s name and ran into the chamber straight into his arms.

Vincent looked up at Catherine somewhat surprised, but after some moments, ignoring the look that spread across Jacob’s face, he began to cradle the weeping girl in his arms. “It’s OK, Missy, don’t cry, everything will be fine,” he whispered to her.

“What is going on?” Jacob demanded when he saw Missy wrapped in Vincent’s arms. He stood up and walked over to where Catherine was standing. The look on his face depicted that he wanted an explanation right now.

“Father, I can explain everything,” Catherine began. “This is Missy Parks, she’s Vincent’s friend.”

Jacob Wells looked at Vincent, “your friend?”

“Yes,” Vincent said softly. “Missy and I are friends, we met yesterday in the late afternoon.”

“Why didn’t you tell me about her?” Jacob asked.

“I wanted to talk to you about this, but after you returned last evening, there was much joy that you had come back to us,” Vincent tried to explain all the while holding Missy in his arms. “It all happened while you were away. She was trapped, alone and afraid. I could hear her crying, and Mary came to my chamber hoping I would know the source of the weeping child we had heard resonating through the tunnels. I went, and found Missy hanging in one of the traps. I had to free her from the net and after I helped her, I took her to my chamber and we talked. Later, I made a promise that I would contact Catherine and that we would meet again.”

“Father, she begged me to bring her to Vincent,” Catherine tried to explain. “I had gone back to the school to see if I could find her, and when I saw her leaving this afternoon, I could not just leave her to cope with everything alone. I know that perhaps this was my mistake to bring her here, but I also knew that she had made the same promise I had made about maintaining the secret of the tunnel world,“ Catherine paused and looked over at Missy and Vincent. “I know something terrible has happened to her, I do not know what it is, I only feel it.”

“Be that as it may, you both know the rules here,” Jacob said sternly. “Catherine, you have to take her back.”

Missy, upon hearing these words, tightened her hold on Vincent, the tears falling from her eyes. “Don’t make me go back, Vincent. Please. There’s nothing for me there, no hope, please let me stay with you,” her voice emerged, the misery evident in her pleas.

Vincent looked at Catherine helplessly and then back at his father. Without saying a word, he brushed the hair back from her face and continued to hold her in his arms.

“Father, before you send her back, could you just look at her?” Catherine asked. “She’s holding on to him as though he is her only support in the world. Could you honestly take that away from her, only to leave her in the lonely existence she must endure up there?”

“Catherine, my responsibility...“ Jacob began.

“Is to the children, correct?” Catherine interrupted him.

“Yes, to our children, but she is not one of ours,” he objected.

“But, she is Vincent’s friend,” Catherine said pointedly, “and you know as well as I that the bond of friendship is very strong. Just look at her, that’s all I ask. If you believe that this child would willingly leave this place without Vincent, then I think you are blind as to what has happened to her.”

“What do you want me to do?” Father sighed and looked at Catherine.

“Well, she does have a pretty severe nosebleed,” Catherine said. “Maybe you should have a look at it.”

He stood up and walked over to Vincent. When Missy felt his presence behind her, she tightened her hold even more. “It’s OK,” he offered trying all the while to make amends with her. “I won’t make you go, but I do need to take a look at your nose. If it is as bad as Catherine believes, I would need to check to make sure you didn’t break it.”

Vincent nodded as he leaned down and began to speak to her. “It’s OK, Missy, no one is going to send you away.” He could feel her trembling under his arms, and continued to speak to her, his voice offering his comfort.

She looked up; tears were still in her eyes. It was then that Vincent saw her nose.

“What happened to you?” he asked.

Missy looked down at her lap. “The kids in school...gym class...” her voice trailed off and she covered her face with her hands unable to speak about what had happened. Shame and sadness were evident in her eyes.

“Don’t be afraid to tell us, we’re your friends, Missy, we’re here to help you,” Vincent said gently. “What did the children do to you?”

“Nothing,” she whispered hiding her face against Vincent’s shoulder.

“Something did happen,” Vincent said softly. “I’m your friend, will you not tell me?”

“I am a sissy, just like they said,” she began to cry bitterly.

“No, you’re not,” Catherine offered. “You’re a brave girl. It takes a very brave person to always believe that life will get better and to never give up.”

Missy turned around from the sanctuary of Vincent’s arms unsure of what Catherine was eluding to. After some moments, she recognized the wadded up piece of paper in the kind woman’s hands.

Catherine had unfolded the paper and began to read.

Will I ever find in the stars and sunshine?

A friend who understands the beauty in my words

The love in a verse, and the emotion of a sonnet

Will I ever know what it feels to be accepted

For the beauty that is within me?

When I whisper to the moon asking if he could hear

The visions echoing in my heart,

The pain growing as I question my worth.

Will I ever know what it feels to be loved

For the beauty that is within me?

The days melt to weeks and those to passing years

I wait, the longing for a friend grows,

As my exile grows with it

Will I ever break free from rejection and let them see

The beauty that is within me?

I ask the summer sun and the winter moon,

If I should wait and not give up hope

Will their answer come?

But if others do not see, then how could I believe

In the beauty that is within me?

The shadows continue to surround me

My heart pleads for a wonder

To finally believe that there truly is

A beauty that exists within me.

Jacob looked at Vincent as Catherine finished reading the poem. “Did you write that?”

Vincent shook his head, “no, Missy did.”

Looking at Missy, he spoke, “you are living the words in that poem, are you not?”

Missy nodded numbly as Catherine spoke, “I believe that is why she threw it away at the school. It’s a reminder to her of her isolation.”

Suddenly, Jacob began to realize that what Catherine had insisted had been the truth. He had been blind to the significance of the friendship between Missy and Vincent. After some awkward moments of silence, he spoke, “I think I understand now why she’s so important to you, Vincent.” He turned to Missy and continued; his voice filled with regret, “I’m sorry.”

Missy's Flashback End

Sighing deeply she stuffed the poem she had written that afternoon about Andrew to the side and hid it among the pages of her journal. She did not know how fragile Andrew was, but she did know that she would do all she could to protect him.

At that moment, she was sitting at her desk writing, when she heard her name being called. She looked up all the while guessing that Jacob wanted to speak with her and when she saw him in the corridor, she stood up. “Yes?”

“I just came by to tell you that Andy is here and wants to see you.”

“OK, I’ll be there in a minute. I just wanted to finish writing this poem.”

He came inside, and looked around the chamber. “I see you finally got all those boxes unpacked.”

“Yes, Vincent helped me with it this morning. I wouldn’t have gotten it done without his help,” she said softly as she approached where he was standing in the entrance to the chamber. As she turned back around, she looked back at her now cleaned room. “It was kind of hard, so many memories. I actually wrote a poem about it this afternoon.”

“May I read it?” he asked.

“Of course,” she walked back over to the table and opened the notebook. She shuffled through a few sheets of paper until she found the second of the three poems she had written that afternoon. Once she pulled the piece of paper from the notebook, she returned to his side, and handed it to him.

He looked down and began to read.

I will never ever forget about you

Always, forever your song so true

Your blessed music will fill my heart

Though the laughter fades it will never part.

Through my window I can hear you sing

Your voice gentle and smooth as it enfolds my being

A hope I yearn to hear when I call your name

Though nothing emerges and it will never be the same.

Mother, I sing your song to the sky

Your memory I had forgotten by and by

It is back with me, my guiding angel of love

Your song so gentle as it flies on the wings of a dove

I will never forget you; my thoughts remain true

The love you gave me, keeps me from feeling blue

I will always be a part of you; your song will fill my heart

Wherever you may be, my love will never depart.

Jacob put the poem gently back on the table. “It helps, doesn’t it?”

Missy nodded, “I’ve always found solace with writing, that will probably never change.”

“Your mother would be proud, Missy,” he said smiling.

“I hope you’re right. Sometimes I doubt it though or wish I had some real sense of affirmation, that someone could come to me and tell me that it's true,” she said softly and sighed deeply.

“You shouldn’t wait for that, you should just know that from those who are with you now, that they are all very proud of you,” he said gently and squeezed her shoulder.

She smiled weakly, but instead of acknowledge his words, she spoke, her voice soft. “I guess I should go meet Andy, huh?”

“I think so, he wants to show you the transcript he wrote of your last interview with him,” Father said.

Missy followed him out of the chamber. “Did you see the transcript yet?”

“No, I only had a chance to say 'hello', then I came to get you,” he said.

Missy said nothing further, but she continued to follow him towards the chamber where Andy was waiting. As she came inside, he looked up and she could see that he looked rather exhausted.

“Hello, Missy,” Andy greeted her. How are you doing?”

“OK,” she said softly. “I’ve been getting settled.”

"I heard," he smiled gently at her. "Anyway, I wanted to come see you and show you the latest transcript. I got it done and was hoping you would take a look at it."

Missy nodded, “OK, sure, I'll take a look.”

As the two of them sat down at the desk, she began to read the papers that were now on the table in front of her.

After about twenty minutes, Andy looked at her. "Missy, can we talk about something?"

"Sure, what is it?" Came the soft response as she closed the transcript and looked at him.

"There's something I have to tell you," he began, his voice filled with uncertainty.

Andy's Flashback

Andy was standing in the chamber that everyone dubbed as 'Father’s library'. He had been looking around this familiar place, the memories rushing into him as soon as Jacob had left to go and console Missy. He could remember all those times that he would sit in this room as a child and how he would stare longingly at the shelves of books and upon seeing them, he discovered his intense love of literature.

There were all kinds of things that reminded him of the past, and how he suddenly was overcome with memories of his childhood. All this time, he had tried to block it out and for some reason; it had been moderately successful for him to forget fourteen years of his life. Missy had reminded him; perhaps it was that interview she had given that stung so deeply in his mind. Maybe, it was something else, something Catherine had said about forgetting that part of one's self. Whatever the case, Andy knew he had come home, and though it would be hard, he was home to stay. At the very least, in his heart, it was there where it really mattered, and much more than anywhere else.

He left the library and moved into the chamber where the man who raised him had often counseled him. He loved Jacob more than anyone else in the world, because it was him who had taught him to be a man. He looked down at the chess set that was sitting on the table, the pieces radiating in the dim candlelight. He ran his hand across the smooth texture of one of the pieces and waited.

Moments later, Jacob and Missy came into the chamber.

He turned around and could see that in the light, there were tears in Missy’s eyes. He swallowed as he looked down at her. “I did not mean to frighten you,” was all he could say.

Missy looked up, her nose swollen, and her face red from the crying she had done. She glanced towards Jacob wondering what was going to happen next.

“I’ll leave you two alone,” the older man said gently as he squeezed her shoulder one more time and left the chamber before she could object.

She walked over to the chessboard that was set up on the table. Picking up one of the knights, she stared down at it as the flickering candlelight reflected off of it.

“Did Father teach you to play, too?” Andy asked as he came closer to where she was standing.

“He started to this morning,” Missy whispered. “I probably won’t ever understand it though.”

“I think Father is looking to find someone who is not as practiced in the game as Vincent,” Andy said softy. “But, you will get it, you’re smart.”

“What makes you so sure?” she asked. “There’s more to one’s intelligence than how many poems they have written.”

“I know that, Missy, but I am still certain of it,” he said honestly. “Just call it a hunch.”

“I’m sorry about what happened earlier,” Missy said softly. “I didn’t know you had grown up down here.”

Andy nodded and smiled weakly. “I don’t usually make it a habit of telling people.”

She looked around the chamber where they were standing and after some moments she shrugged her shoulders and returned the chess figure to its place on the board. “I was just afraid that...”

“...That I might be following you?” he asked finishing what she was going to say with a question.

She nodded. “It has happened.”

“I know, but I thought you knew that I wouldn’t do anything like that. It was you who said that I was more gentle than the others, and you were the one that invited me to come upstairs to your apartment and talk. I thought you knew that I had no intention of being obtrusive with you.”

“I thought it was my obligation,” she said defensively.

“No, it wasn’t,” he said emphatically. “If you didn’t want to talk to me, you could have said so, I would have left peacefully. I may be a reporter, Missy, but I’m not in the habit of harassing people for a story.”

“Then why are you here?” she asked.

“Because Father is the closest thing to a dad that I have,” Andy said. “My folks were killed when I was six years old, and it was either go into a corrupted foster care system or move down here. I moved here, and Father raised me as his son.” He regarded her somewhat angrily. “How would you feel if someone told you not to go and visit your family because of what you do for a living?”

Missy looked down at the ground. “I guess I would be as angry at them as you are now at me. I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said that.” She turned away as though she was about to leave.

Andy looked at her trying to remember that with her, he had to thread gingerly as she was only a kid. “Missy, wait,” he began to speak, causing her to stop. “Maybe I was being a little bit too hard on you.”

She turned around and walked slowly back inside the chamber. “I shouldn’t have said that, it was wrong of me.”

“Why did you?” he asked softly.

“I was afraid,” she whispered. “I had a bad dream last night. I had been chased by reporters, and then when I saw you here, that dream came back to me, and it frightened me.”

“I didn’t come here to scare you, I came here because over the course of our interview, you somehow brought my past back to me. I had forgotten so much about this place and it did surprise me when I learned that you were here,” he said. “When I got here earlier, I didn’t even recognize you. You were sitting next to Jamie, but I did not even know it.”

“What did you see?”

“I saw a child very much like the one I had been,” he began. “Shy, somewhat afraid, but at the same time, curious, innocent, and very opinionated.”

Missy shrugged her shoulders saying nothing.

“You really have found something down here, haven’t you?” he asked.

“I found what it means to have real friends,” she said simply.

“Just like you had said when we talked in your apartment. You said you had been searching, and then you foundVincent,” Andy said softly, “your ‘Treasured Friend’.”

Missy nodded feeling the tears streaming down her cheeks. “You’re not going to tell anyone, are you?”

Andy shook his head, “no, I cannot. In doing so, I would betray the trust of my family.” He walked over to where she was now standing and rested his hand on her shoulder. “I guess it’s easy to see that this is all strange for you, this celebrity thing. I cannot imagine living with what you have endured over the last months. That’s why I told you that you always had a choice. Keep in mind though, it isn’t just a choice when you deal with me, but it’s that way when you deal with anyone. No one has the right to tell you what you should say or do, and they have absolutely no right to twist your words to mean something that is not there.”

Missy nodded as he continued to speak, “I know you probably don’t believe it, but ever since we spoke on Thursday, I have been trying to make heads or tails with the entire article that I must write about you. The truth is, I have never met anyone quite like you before, so willing to sacrifice their own internal freedom for the sake of the people they love. I am really touched by the fact that though I asked you about that poem, you had put your promise ahead of everything.”

“I couldn’t have done otherwise,” she whispered.

“I know,” he extended his hand to her.

She looked at him confused by what he was doing. She remembered how he had extended his hand to her before the interview had ended, but that was a business practice. Was it possible that he was now doing this for another reason?

“Friends?” he asked when she did not respond to his gesture.

Missy approached him and offered him her hand. “Friends.”

Andy's Flashback End

"Why are you telling me all of this?" Missy asked weakly as Andy finished speaking.

"Because some of what I told you then wasn't the truth. Missy, my parents are still alive," he said softly.

"Why did you tell me they were dead?"

"Because to me they died when I was six, they never accepted or appreciated me, and so it was easier to tell Father and Vincent that they had died. I knew that if I had told the truth, then Father would not have approved to me moving below, so I made up the story just so I could move down here," Andy said softly.

"Did you ever tell Father?" Missy asked.

Andy shook his head. "No, I didn't, at least not yet. See, my parents were not good people; they were more involved in their own hang-ups than they were with mine. So I just took off."

"You were six, how could you take off when you're only six?" Missy asked.

"I had met a boy named Robert, he was from the tunnel world and about twice my age. He had met me when I was playing near the park entrance one day. Anyway, because he was older, I figured that he could understand how lonely I was, so I started telling him about my life. Instead of telling him that my parents were not interested in me, I ended up telling him that I was orphaned and living with a couple that were not really my parents. It was a lie, but it seemed better to tell him this than to tell him that I had been rejected. There's something about rejection that I thought would result in a chain reaction, so instead of telling the truth, I told him that my family had died in an accident. Well, hearing this, he went to Father and asked him, or should I say, begged him, to let me stay here. Father reluctantly agreed and I moved below, and I haven't seen my family since."

"You actually lied to them?" Missy was shocked at hearing his story, but somewhere inside of her, she could almost understand why it was he had done this.

"I was six-years-old, and besides that, anger towards me is wasted, this was over twenty-five years ago, Missy," Andy said as he took a deep breath and released it, thus it emerged as a sigh. "Can you imagine how scared I was to actually admit this to you?"

The young girl shook her head, but eventually she managed to look up at him. "I guess that would be hard, and now you probably know that you have to tell Father and Vincent the truth, too," Missy eventually found the words and spoke, but all the while, in the back of her mind, she could not help but remember Andrew, who was hiding in the whispering caverns. Sighing deeply, she realized that up until this moment, she was the only one who knew about his presence there, and this made her feel badly because she needed to tell someone about him, if only so they could go and help him.

"I know and I plan on telling them, but I think that this is going to take some time," he said softly.

She nodded. "Andy, if we're being honest with each other, then I have to tell you something too, and maybe you can help me tell Father about it."

"What?"

"Well, today when I was wandering around the whispering caverns, I found a man there, or better said, he found me. Anyway, he had apparently snuck into the tunnels when a bad rainstorm had come through the city, because when he found me, he was wet and cold." Missy looked at Andy as though imploring him to understand the gravity of the situation. "I want to help him, not just because I feel badly for him and the fact that he's mute, but as weird as it sounds, I think he actually understands me. The problem is, he's going to get really sick down here without any warm clothes."

"Do you know anything else about him, where he comes from or if he's passing through?" Andy asked.

"No, nothing, I just know that his name is Andrew and I think that he really needs our help. The trouble is, I have a feeling that Father could help him, but I'm scared to ask him just because of how things were when I first came here. I remember how Father was really angry with my presence here." Missy looked at her friend and shook her head. "I am completely convinced that Andrew will get sicker if he stays down here much longer without some kind of help."

Andy nodded. "That's a tough one. I'll tell you what, let's go to the whispering caverns with some blankets and food and maybe that will help your friend. Tomorrow, we'll decide what we will do about informing Father of Andrew's presence here."

Missy threw her arms around him. "Thank you."

Andy smiled. "I should be thanking you, because you are the one who gave me the courage to face the whole truth about my past. You see, you have been so brave during everything that has happened with your father and brothers, and I wish that I had had that same courage."

"You were six, Andy, you can't honestly think that my response and yours were comparable. There's just no way that these two things could be related."

"I'll try to keep that in mind," he said and offered his hand to her. "I'll come back in a little bit to retrieve the transcript. Is it OK?"

"It's perfect," she said smiling for the first time in weeks. The two of them got up and left Father's library in order to go to the kitchen and get some food as well as retrieve some blankets from Missy's chamber.

Once they had retrieved the things they would need, Missy and Andy walked in the direction of the whispering caverns where Andrew was staying.

~*~*~*~*~

At that moment, for an unknown reason, Andrew was getting sicker by the minute and as Missy and Andy entered the cavern, she rushed over to the human angel and wrapped her arms around him, her hand suddenly covered with sweat once she had made contact with his fevered forehead and cheeks.

"Andy, he's getting even sicker," she said softly as she looked up at him. "What are we going to do? I mean; we can't just leave him here."

"We have to take him to Father, that's the only way. You take the blankets and food and I'll try to carry him," Andy said and as soon as Missy had collected the things, she watched as her friend tried unsuccessfully to heave Andrew's weary body up over his shoulder. When he could not do so, he half dragged, half carried Andrew through the tunnels in the direction of Jacob's chamber.

"Andy, maybe we should take him to Vincent, he'll know what to do," Missy said softly and when her friend agreed, he started trudging through the corridor trying all the while to keep from moving Andrew's body too much, but also trying to propel him along.

When the human angel felt his body being shifted, he opened his eyes weakly, but closed them as exhaustion overwhelmed him and he passed out only to lay limp in Andy's arms.

Ten minutes later, they managed to reach Vincent's chamber, and Missy called out to him, her voice filled with fear as Andy struggled to lean Andrew up against the tunnel wall.

Seconds passed and Vincent came out to see them standing in the corridor, his eyes widening when he beheld the sight before him. "What has happened?" He asked, his voice filled with urgency, but when his gaze came to rest on Andrew, he looked at the two of them, his blue eyes expecting some sort of explanation. "Who is this man, Missy?"

"Vincent, he's my friend, his name is Andrew, and he's very sick. Please, you have to help him," Missy pleaded softly as the tears streamed from beneath her eyes and she was trying all the while to ignore the sternness emanating in Vincent's words.

When he heard her voice cracking with emotion and he saw Andy trying once again to heave Andrew up onto his shoulders, Vincent intervened and looked at the man who was being jarred, but he could also see that Missy was trying to wipe a gentle hand across Andrew's face, thus brushing the wet blonde hair out from in front of his closed eyes.

"Let me take him, his weight will crush you, Andy," Vincent eventually said as he went over to where Andrew lay and picked up the unconscious angel's body as though it had been made of feathers and rushed through the tunnels in the direction of the hospital chamber.

As soon as Vincent reached the chamber with Andrew, he gently put the human angel's body on one of the empty beds. Seconds later, Missy and Andy came into the chamber behind them. Instead of waiting, Missy immediately came over and placed a gentle hand on the forehead of her ailing friend.

"Is he going to be OK?" She asked weakly and looked up at Vincent.

"I don't know, Missy," he said softly as he retrieved a small basin, filled it with cold water, and reached for a washcloth. "Maybe you can use this to help bring down his fever."

Once he had given her the cloth, she dipped it into the water and began to wring it out. As she rested the cloth against Andrew's face, the delirious angel flinched but eventually relaxed after growing accustomed to the feel of the cold rag against his forehead. His eyes wearily opened for a split second and when he saw Missy hovering over him, he allowed himself to sink back out of consciousness once again. "Is there anything else we can do, Vincent?"

"He probably needs antibiotics to fight the infection," Vincent said softly. "I'm guessing being down here in those thin, wet clothes has probably succeeded in making him sick.

"I'll get something for him, Missy, but I won't be able to bring it until tomorrow morning," Andy said eventually once he had heard this exchange. Glancing down at his watch, he realized that it was getting late, but when he looked at Missy, he could tell that she didn't care about time. She had already pulled a chair over next to Andrew's bed and settled herself to wait.

Once Andy had left, Vincent came over to her and rested a gentle hand on her shoulder. "You know you can't stay the whole night here, Missy."

"I have to, Vincent, Andrew is my friend, and if he wakes up here, he might get scared," she said as her memories began running rampant in her mind about the time when Vincent had brought her below for the weeklong spring holiday.

Missy's Flashback

When Missy woke again it was nearly noon. She was in a soft bed, with a quilt covering her, but she sat up with a start. She was alone in place she had not seen in over two months, but to look around her, she could not immediately recognize where she was. She looked around the room somewhat afraid because the last thing she remembered was being in Catherine’s living room. She did not know what time it was, or if this was simply a dream. She pulled her hand from underneath the quilt and brushed it across the soft fabric. How did I get here, she asked herself. She was frightened and all she could see was the single flame from a candle on a table at the other end of the room. She lay back down on the pillow and closed her eyes.

Moments later, she opened them again when she heard someone coming into the room and was now standing next to where she had been sleeping, their body cutting off the field of light.

“Good morning, Missy,” the voice said causing her to wipe the rest of the drowsiness from her eyes.

“Who is it; who’s there?” she moaned softly.

“It’s Father, you’re safe here,” he said.

“I’m not dreaming, am I?” she asked weakly as he leaned over and she could see his face better. “Is it really you?”

“Yes, Missy, it’s me, and it’s no dream,” he offered giving her a hug.

“How did I get here?” she asked softly.

“Vincent brought you down last night.”

“He did, but why?”

“Catherine asked him to take you away from everything that was going on up there,” Jacob said. “From what I understand, it’s been difficult for you.”

“Yeah,” she said softly. “I don’t remember anything that happened last night. I saw my brother, Travis, but then after that, nothing.”

“That’s because you had fallen asleep at Catherine’s and when Vincent went there to see you, he didn’t have the heart to wake you,” he explained. “After he brought you down, I only had to look at you, and I knew that you are obviously suffering from exhaustion and a mild case of vitamin deficiency. Haven’t you been eating?”

She shook her head slightly. “I haven’t been able to even relax at home, much less eat. Every time I try, someone knocks on the door wanting an interview or asking me questions.”

“You’ve become quite a celebrity in these past months, my dear.”

“I guess,” she whispered, but he could tell that she was not at all happy about it.

“But that’s no excuse for not eating,” he scolded gently.

“I know, but I did try. It’s just that when I did eat something, my nerves would go crazy, and I couldn’t keep very much down,” she whispered.

“Have you been feeling nauseous or vomiting?” he asked.

“A little. I suppose it’s because I’m scared much of the time. I feel on edge, as though someone is constantly lurking around a corner watching me,” she admitted sadly.

“Do you feel that way now?” he asked.

“No, I’ve always felt very safe here,” she answered honestly.

“It’s been really bad for you, hasn’t it?” he asked.

She looked down at her lap once again and eventually back over at him. Without saying anything, she simply shrugged her shoulders.

“Are you hungry?” he asked.

“A little,” she whispered. “What time is it?”

“Nearly noon. Mary brought some fruit in for you this morning, and I can get you some orange juice or something to drink if you would like. I thought fruit would be the best, you need to get some vitamins back in your system, so you can get your strength back.”

“Thank you,” she whispered trying to sit up. When she discovered that she could not, she became agitated. “Why do I suddenly feel so weak?” she asked putting her hand up to her forehead.

“You’re still worn-out, though you slept through the night, you’ve over exerted yourself and now your body is literally coming down from the adrenaline rush making you even more tired than usual. Vincent asked me last night if you could stay with us for coming week and I told him you could, but only because we all know you need to get your strength back and up there was not the right place to do this. I figure if you get a break from it, then you’ll be better able to face it when you go back. From what I have been able to surmise, though, those reporters have been pretty relentless.”

Missy nodded, “I sometimes wish they would just leave me alone.”

“I know,” he said sympathetically.

“Where is Catherine?” Missy asked opting to change the subject after some moments of silence had passed.

“I guess she went back up to her apartment, but I’m sure she’ll be back later,” he said.

“I figured I’d see her when I woke up,” Missy said somewhat disappointed.

“She said that she needed to make sure the stuff your brother brought was going to be picked up, which by the way, you did not have to do that now,” he said.

“I know, but I promised that I’d find a way,” she said softly. “You’re not mad at me, are you?”

“No, of course not. I just don’t want you to worry about us right now, when you should be concentrating on getting your strength back,” he said.

She nodded, and leaned back against the pillow. “Do you know where Vincent is?” she asked weakly.

“He went for a walk this morning while you were still sleeping. He should be back pretty soon,” he said.

“I missed him so much,” she said as she closed her eyes. “I’ve missed everyone...” her voice trailed.

“We’ve missed you too, Missy,” Jacob said smiling. “Right now, I think I should go and get you some orange juice, your face is still a little pale. Is there anything else you would like?”

“No,” she shook her head.

“Then, I’ll be back in a little bit. When you’re ready, just help yourself to some of the fruit,” he said softly and left the chamber.

Instead of going and getting something from the small bowl, Missy shifted her weight on the bed and snuggled down beneath the quilt. It was so comfortable there, and after seeing Father and knowing that she was back with her friends, gave her an intense feeling of relief.

She opened her eyes a few moments later, and could see the fruit from her vantage point on the bed, but she was simply too tired to go and retrieve any of it. As soon as she had closed her eyes once again, she could hear voices coming from outside the chamber. Opening them again, she began to concentrate on the sounds and where they were originating. Through the resonance of it, she could hear a familiar and soothing one, and she guessed that Father had met Vincent in the tunnel and they were speaking to one another.

“Vincent?” she murmured. “Are you there?”

When no one answered, she simply closed her eyes thinking that she was now hearing voices in her mind. She rolled over and burrowed herself beneath the blankets covering her. Once she had gotten comfortable, she could hear the sounds again, this time they seemed closer and after a few moments, they had stopped. Suddenly, she could sense that someone had come back into the chamber and was now seated in the chair that Jacob had occupied earlier. Missy rolled over and opened her eyes half expecting to discover that she had drifted off to sleep and that Jacob had simply returned with the orange juice.

When her eyes focused on the person who was now seated next to her, she licked her dry lips and spoke, her voice barely above a whisper. “Vincent.”

“Hello, Missy,” he said softly.

She struggled to sit up, but was unable to support even her own weight and she fell back against the pillow. After some moments, she reached her arms up towards him, hoping that he would help her to sit up in the bed. He took her arms gently but firmly in his hands and pulled her to a sitting position. In one fluid motion, he wrapped her securely in his arms and held tightly to her as she began to weep softly.

“I’ve missed you so much,” she cried softly.

“I’m here, Missy, don’t cry, everything is going to be fine,” he said gently.

“I thought you’d be mad at me,” she tried to speak, but her voice emerged as though she was out of breath. She buried her face against the blonde hair of his mane.

“I was never angry with you,” he whispered. “When so much time had passed by without me hearing anything from you, I thought maybe you had forgotten, but I really had no idea that you were under so much pressure there. I feel myself responsible for having left you alone so long,” he said, his voice soft as he patted her head gently.

Missy's Flashback End

"I can see why you would want to stay with him," Vincent said gently regarding Andrew once more. "I'll tell you what, I'll arrange with Mary to get you some quilts if you want to stay here, but you have to promise me two things."

"What?" She asked.

"If you get too cold, you will go back to your chamber and get some rest," he said and when she nodded, he continued. "The second one is, you are going to have to tell Father about this."

Missy's face paled and she looked into the blue eyes of her friend. "I can't."

"You know you'll have to, otherwise, there really won't be a lot we can do for him. You know, Father does love you, Missy, and it may be hard for you to tell him about your friend, but that's part of what makes friendship so real and beautiful, the willingness of a friend to go the extra mile for someone. Remember, I did this once for you, now, you will have the chance to do the same for him," he said gently.

"OK," she finally consented when she saw Andrew shifting on the bed. "Can I tell Father about it tomorrow?"

Vincent nodded. "Yes, you can, but I am taking you for your word, Missy."

She nodded. "Vincent, are you going back to see Catherine tonight?"

"Yes, I was planning on it," he said smiling gently at the mention of Catherine's name.

"Would you get some medicine for Andrew, please?" Missy asked and once he nodded, he left the chamber to retrieve some blankets.

Missy continued to care for her friend, wiping the washcloth over his sweaty face, but after awhile, she simply left the cloth on his forehead.

When Vincent eventually returned some ten minutes later with the blankets, he noticed that she had fallen asleep in the chair, her hand now holding tightly to Andrew's. Instead of moving her back to her chamber, he left her with her friend, all the while covering her with the quilt and leaving her peacefully asleep.

Part 3

By the time night had fallen, Travis had managed, with a little bit of Scott's help, to move into his new apartment. It had been a quick and painless process and the young man was increasingly relieved that he now had his own place, and that he had managed to take this large and very significant step for himself. Smiling weakly once he closed the door upon Scott's departure, he went over and sat down on the sofa and took his shoes off. All the while, he was contemplating the events that brought him to this point. Tess had been right, he really needed to focus on his own future for a change, he knew that somehow his father and younger brothers weren't about to do so, they had to find a way to get their own lives in order.

As he got comfortable and had stretched out, the doorbell chimed and he got up off the sofa and went to answer it. As he pulled the door open, he smiled as he regarded a pair of friendly dark eyes of the woman standing on the other side. "Hello Tess."

"I just came by to see if you got settled," she said smiling gently at him.

"Yes, it seems so, even though there's really not a lot to settle, but since tomorrow's Sunday, I thought I'd get up early and go stock up on food, kitchen utensils, and toiletries. I guess among other things, I forgot to take care of these kinds of necessities," he said smiling somewhat sheepishly.

Tess smiled and although he had looked tired before when she had first met him, now he looked as though he had a new sense of energy to him, and this came as a great relief to her. In his eyes she could see a sense of relief, as though he had latched onto the idea that things were finally starting to go right for him.

"The reason I came by is because I figured that you had probably forgotten a few things, and I brought a couple of bags over to get you started," she began as she reached to one side and picked up one of the bags. "I tried to pack a few things that you might need but I also threw in a few extras for good measure. I brought some coffee, eggs, and bread for breakfast, then I got some of those little yogurt candies, I just love those things."

"You're an angel," he said as he accepted the bags and instead of leaving her on the porch, he backed away from the door with a smile. "Would you like to come in?"

"Thank you," the soothing response emerged and she came into the room. "You're still unpacking, I see."

"Yeah, my friend Scott helped me get all this stuff inside, but he had to get home because has to go visit his niece tomorrow morning. He took off a little bit ago and I needed some time on my own, I guess. Anyway, after I left your office, I went to work, and then I had to meet someone, specifically, to talk to a lawyer about some other stuff. Oh, and this brings to mind a question. It's not all that important, but I was just wondering how the security around here is."

"It's not too bad, why do you ask?" Tess asked.

"Well, you know my sister is Melissa Parks, and ever since her book came out, the reporters have been relentless. That's why I had an appointment today; one of her friends is a lawyer for the DA's office. Anyway, it's kind of a mess, but I was thinking that maybe one day, Missy would be able to come back and she could stay here, that this could be her new home."

"Ah yes, the reporters," Tess said as knowledge about what Missy had been through literally engulfed her. Eventually, she cleared her throat and continued to speak. "I won't lie to you and say that it's great here. I mean; this is the Eastside, but the apartment security is adequate." When she saw his face fall she smiled gently at him. "I can tell you this; Travis, sometimes God has a way of providing the easiest answers during the most difficult of times. So, if there were any problems regarding your little sister coming here, then we'll cross that particular bridge when we come to it. Try not to worry about it too much, OK?"

"Thanks, you have been more than helpful, Tess, you've been like, I don't know, you've just been like a mom. I mean; this sounds stupid because I've only known you one day, but you seem to look out for people in an uncanny and caring way. I don't really see that so much. My mom used to do things like that for people, but then she died and my dad wondered after that what the point was."

"That must have been hard for you to go from one situation where someone is kind and nice straight into another where they say what's the point," Tess said softly.

"The truth is, it was much harder for Missy, she was always so much like our mom, she looked like her, she liked the same music as her, and she even acted like her. I mean; both of them used to find solace in books and music, and they would put their emotions down on paper. After our mom died, it was like Missy understood better than all of us how faith really worked. It was a very strange thing."

"No baby, it's a gift," Tess said and smiled.

"Yeah, but it must have passed me by, because when I look at how things are today, I guess I'm like my dad and I wonder what the point of everything is," he said softly.

Tess shook her head. "Now, you listen to me, honey, you think that what happened today was just mere chance? Do you think finding this apartment and securing a part of your future was just the luck of the draw? It wasn't, sometimes God puts you in the most perfect place for the most dynamic reason. You just hang in there. Sometimes negative things might happen to you so that you can appreciate all the beauty, wonder, and positivity that is around you."

Travis nodded. "I never thought of it that way."

"I know, sometimes when things are hard, people don't remember that one can always look up. They are thinking about how to make it through to another day, and what the future will hold for them, but it does happen, Travis, and you will find the closure for your mother's passing, but you will also find the peace, with regard to your little sister." She glanced over to see a copy of Missy's book on the coffee table.

"I just wish I knew where she was and that she was safe," he said sadly.

"I'm sure she is fine," Tess said as she reached over and patted the hand of the young man. "And wherever she is, trust that God will take very good care of her."

"Faith?"

"You're catching on, but now, I need to going, I have some other things to check up on, and then I'll see you tomorrow, I have to have a battle of wits with a rose bush."

"If you need some help, let me know, it's my day off, and I actually like working outside, it's very relaxing," Travis said.

"I might just take you up on that, after you get your shopping done," she said smiling as she stood up. He followed suit and walked her to the door. "Sweet dreams, Travis," she said softly as she opened the door and stepped outside.

Once he closed the door, he smiled weakly. "I can see that the wind is starting to shift a little," he mumbled softly to himself as he smiled and went over to the table where his sister's book was still resting. He opened it to the first poem and began to read.

I will remember you even when time has an end,

I will understand the meaning of your heart’s song,

I will stand by you though the days may be long and hard,

I will enfold you with my kindness and comfort you in sadness,

I will sing sweet music to you, as you watch over me with love,

I will be a sweet reminder to you in the melodies of a song,

I will awake in the morning when your soothing voice whispers,

And I will never forget that your wind will guide me through the day.

With tears in his eyes he nodded as he realized that for the first time since Missy's book had been published, that he had actually opened it and began to read the words that she had written. For the first time in a long time, Travis began to understand the pain and heartache that his little sister had endured.

Instead of feeling better, the guilt covered him like a blanket as he remembered all the times his father had turned away from her, how he had indirectly done the same thing, yet Missy had remained strong, her heart pure and kind, her soul crying, but her steadfast love somehow winning the day.

He shook his head as he gently placed the book on the table, his hand rubbing over the cover, the tears blinding him as he remembered all the times he had stayed with his family for all the wrong reasons and should have had the courage to get them both out of this horrible situation before it had reached the breaking point with their father.

Taking another deep breath, he went over to the bag that Tess had brought and began to unpack it. As he did, he realized that she had been right; Missy had the faith and belief that things would get better, and maybe through her words, he would find the courage as well.

~*~*~*~*~

Catherine was sitting on her sofa when Vincent climbed up onto her balcony. She had been reading a book choreographing the life and times of Vincent van Gogh and was fully immersed in her reading, so much so that she did not hear Vincent until he was gently tapping on the window, this nearly causing her to jump out of her skin.

Turning around and seeing him, her nervous expression melted away and she rushed to open the door. "Vincent, hi."

"Hello, Catherine, I'm sorry I startled you, it wasn't my intention," he smiled weakly when he looked at her, but hidden deep in his eyes was a all too familiar mark of concern.

"Is something wrong?" She finally asked somehow possessing the ability to read him like a book.

"Something strange has happened," Vincent began and he shrugged his shoulders almost unconsciously.

"What is it?"

"Missy found someone at the whispering cavern earlier today, and she and Andy brought him to my chamber this evening," Vincent began. "He's very sick, Catherine, and Missy asked me to see if you could get him some antibiotics. She's afraid for him."

"Just like you were for her when she got sick," Catherine said softly. "I'll never forget how you looked that night when you took her below. You were completely beside yourself with worry."

"Yes, I suppose I was, but the trouble is, Father doesn't know about Andrew yet," Vincent said softly.

"He will find out," Catherine said. "There will be no way for Missy to keep him a secret from Father."

"I told her tonight that she would have to tell the truth, but the problem is, her friend Andrew does not look at all well," Vincent said.

"How is Missy doing in all of this?" Catherine asked.

"When I left, she was asleep next to him and holding his hand. I think she really cars for him, though I am under the impression that she doesn't know him all that well," Vincent said softly. "She wants to take care of him, but at the same time, that she somehow feels obligated to do so as well."

"That reminds me, I met Travis earlier today, and aside from finally getting some adequate testimony for this case, I could see the extreme worry on his face, he looked so scared. He doesn't know anything about where Missy is or if she's OK," Catherine said softly. "I think he sort of wants to take care of her again, but doesn't really know where to start or what to do."

Vincent nodded and smiled weakly. "I think I can understand where he would want to take care of her, he is all she has in terms of family and she is all he has."

"Vincent, you know that she has you, but, I can see where Travis is coming from on this, I mean; this is so hard for him. He even told me that he felt as though he had failed her somehow; as though he was supposed to have helped her overcome everything, just because he's her brother," Catherine said softly.

"I think that when Missy's friend gets better, we will probably need to arrange a time when Missy and Travis can see each other again," Vincent said softly, but he did not feel good about this proposition simply because he had this strange feeling that once Missy would be reunited with Travis, that she would leave the tunnels and he would never see his young friend again.

Catherine, upon hearing his words, nodded. "You know, I think that's not a bad idea." When she wrapped her arms as far around him as far as she could, she could feel that something was not right. "Vincent?"

He shook his head, the light blonde hair of his main lightly brushing against her shoulders. "Just see if you can arrange it for tomorrow. The sooner this is done, the better."

"You're afraid that if she sees Travis, that she will forget you," Catherine said softly, but when he nodded numbly, she smiled gently at him as she rested a gentle hand on his shoulder. "She'll never forget you, Vincent, that much I can promise you."

~*~*~*~*~

Andrew woke up about an hour after Vincent had left to go see Catherine and Missy had fallen asleep next to where he was lying. He glanced over from the bed and could see that Missy was asleep in the chair next to his bed and when he felt a pressure against his hand, he tried to focus his attention on this and recognized that the young girl was holding tightly to his hand.

He managed to pull his hand gently out of her grasp, but smiled weakly as he looked down at her. She looked so peaceful, but her body was probably so uncomfortable here. She was hunched over, her upper torso was leaning to one side, and her head was practically resting against the back of the chair, but it became obvious to him that she was not about to leave his side. This simple act touched his heart, and he reached over and brushed a lock of her hair from her face.

Moments later, his attention shifted and he glanced around the chamber, all the while realizing that apparently Missy had found some help for him when he had gotten sick. It was no secret, he still felt horribly, but at least he was in a warm bed.

As he continued taking in his new surroundings, he could not help but notice that the room was most likely a makeshift hospital wing, as it was filled with a number of beds. They all seemed to be empty. Specifically, he could not help but notice that the neighboring one was conveniently empty. Without thinking, he slowly crawled out of bed and looked at the young girl, as she remained asleep on the chair. Her body was still hunched over, but the way she was seated caused her hair to hang loosely down over her face.

After some more moments had ticked by, she shifted her weight once again, and wearily opened her eyes. "Andrew?" She spoke softly as he crouched down in front of her. "You're OK?"

He nodded his head sinking somewhat because he was still ill.

As soon as she saw this, she smiled weakly. "You're still sick, though," she said once she reached towards him and touched the side of his face. "Your skin is so hot. You should be in bed."

He shook his head and when he felt her touch, he reached up and took her hand in his and lowered it from his face, but all the while holding it gently in his own. When she looked at him, he smiled gently at her and rather than speak, he cocked his head to one side, his eyes filled with the usual serenity that she always seemed to see when she would look at him.

"You know what, Andrew?" She asked softly and without waiting for him to answer she continued. "I wish you could talk to me. I wish that you could tell me that everything is going to be OK, that I'm not crazy for feeling like I do."

The angel trapped in human form reached over and placed a gentle hand against her lips, thus quieting her. Instead of trying to speak, which he knew he could not do, he smiled at her as he tried to get her to speak to him about what she was feeling. Instead of trying to sign something to her, he nodded, thus indicating that she could always speak to him about whatever it was she wanted to.

"Before you came over and sat down on the bridge with me today, I could not remember a time in my life that I felt so miserable," she began to speak, all the while the tears had started to stream down her cheeks. "I couldn't help it, I wanted to talk to someone, but I wanted to have someone who didn't know about my life, who didn't judge me for feeling the way I do. I just wanted…a…a miracle."

Andrew reached over and with a gentle hand, he touched the side of her face, thus causing her to look up and make eye contact with him. You never know when God will give you a miracle, he mouthed the words to her, but when she did not understand, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a pen and a piece of paper. Once he had managed to write this down, he ripped the top page off the pad and handed it to her.

Once she held the piece of paper in her hand she looked down at it and read his words. "God?"

Andrew nodded and smiled as he began to write down his next statement. You can tell me whatever you want, Missy I will never judge you.

As she read these words, she could feel the tears streaming down over her cheeks. "I…I just feel so lost, Andrew. Have you ever wondered what it was you wanted but later realized that you just didn't know?" She stopped speaking, but when these words evoked no response, she looked at him despondently. "I wish I knew what to do."

Andrew reached over and took her hands in his. As he did, he brought them together, pressing her two hands together between his bigger ones. When she looked up, he bowed his head as though in prayer.

"I used to pray," she whispered. "I asked God to help me."

Andrew nodded, he knew about these prayers, but when he looked at her, he could see so much pain in her eyes.

"I don't know if I can talk anymore right now, I'm so tired," she whispered as she pulled her hands away from between his and looked down at her lap. "Maybe we should both go back to sleep, it seems as though we could use the rest."

Andrew nodded, but instead of crawling back into his own bed, he went to the neighboring bed, and pulled the blankets back. Next, he turned around and without any sort of warning, he leaned down, picked her up in his arms, and laid her gently on the bed. As soon as she was comfortable, he pulled the blankets up and covered her.

"Andrew?" she whispered.

In response to her speaking his name, he placed a finger over his lips, stooped down and retrieved the blankets from the floor near the chair, shook them out somewhat, and spread them out over her. Once she had closed her eyes, he leaned over and kissed her forehead, and watched as she drifted off to sleep.

When he turned around once again, he came face to face with Vincent, who had returned to the chamber to give him the medicine he had managed to get from Catherine. "You should be in bed, you're still very sick, Andrew."

The human angel nodded as he looked up at Vincent without even a trace of fear, and that, if anything, seemed to take Vincent by more surprise than Andrew could have even realized.

After some more time had passed, he looked back over towards where Missy was sleeping, but after another brief moment passed, he turned back around and shrugged his shoulders.

"Missy told me about you, and I think you know that you have nothing to be afraid of. My name is Vincent, and Missy is a friend of mine. She asked me to help you because she knew that you were getting sick," he said softly, but when Andrew didn't speak, Vincent continued. "You cannot speak?" He finally asked when no words emerged from the human angel.

Andrew shook his head, but by this time, his worried gaze had returned to where Missy was now fast asleep.

"You moved her to a bed, that was not a bad idea, she needs her rest," Vincent said softly. "But, you need your rest too, you've gotten sick down here, it's much colder than above." He paused for a moment and then extended a small pill bottle towards Andrew. "Maybe you should take one or two of these pills, they are antibiotics and they will help fight off any infection."

Andrew nodded as he reached out and accepted the bottle. Once he had taken the medication, Vincent spoke. "It may not have been right but I heard what she said to you and I honestly had no idea that she was coping with so many difficulties."

When no response emerged, Vincent looked at him. "Do you know sign language, Andrew?"

The human angel nodded but held up his hand to indicate that he knew only a few words, but possessed the capability to communicate somewhat with him.

Vincent nodded. "Did she tell you anything when you were in the whispering caverns today?"

Andrew shook his head as he began to sign. All that she told me was that she was lonely, but I could tell that about her since meeting her in the cavern.

"I think I understand why she would feel this way, simply because she had not been herself since she moved down here a week ago," Vincent said. "She has always been a lonely little girl."

Vincent's Flashback

“Vincent, do you ever feel lonely? I mean like no one in the world could possibly understand you?” Missy asked.

“Sometimes,” he answered honestly.

“I do all the time, and I hate it. Being alone is fine, but lonely is the most horrible feeling in the world.” She looked around his chamber and then back at him. She wiped her hand over her eyes brushing the tears away. “No one seems interested in getting to know me, or wanting to be my friend,” a pause. “My mom used to tell me that I was special, and I used to believe it, but anymore, I don’t because if I was, then I would be able to find a friend simply by being one. No one has ever really given me the chance.” As she spoke, the tears began to stream down her face once more, and she wrung her hands together nervously.

“I’ll give you the chance,” Vincent said gently standing up and going over to her. When he reached her, he wrapped his arms around her and held her, but as he looked down at her, he spoke, his voice soft. “Please, you mustn’t believe for a moment that you’re not special. Your mother was right, Missy, you are special, you have an impact on others and if you believe in yourself, you will see that beauty which exists in your heart. This I am certain of, as it is demonstrated in your beautiful poetry.”

“You mean that?” she asked uncertainty in her voice.

“Of course I mean it, it’s the truth,” he said softly.

“I have to admit something,” she began. “When you asked me earlier if I was afraid, I lied when I said ‘no’.”

“I know, I could tell by the way you had trembled,” came his honest answer. “Your body language said more than your words could.”

“And you still wanted to talk to me, but, why?”

“Aside from the fact that you needed to talk, it was the only way I know to help you overcome being afraid,” he said. “Tell me, are you still afraid?”

“No,” she looked at him and smiled weakly.

“Then what I tried was successful,” he smiled. “But, there is something I must ask of you, and I hope that as my friend you will understand and respect it without question,” Vincent began, his voice serious.

“I’ll do whatever you wish,” she said.

“Please don’t tell anyone about me or this place. This request is very important.”

She nodded, “I promise I won’t tell a soul, but will I be able to see you again? Somehow I think once I go back home, I won’t.”

“You will,” he said gently, “but you must wait before coming back. I have a friend who will make contact with you and through her, you will be able to see me again.”

“You won’t forget?”

Vincent smiled, “no, Missy, I won’t.”

Vincent's Flashback End

"That was the first day we met, and she was very open with me, so it doesn't surprise me that she was open with you, Andrew," Vincent concluded and the Angel of Death nodded. "Now, I think it would be wise for you to get some rest. Tomorrow my father will meet you and we will be able to determine in what manner we can treat you. I think you have a cold from being down here in the cold, but just to be on the safe side, he will probably want to do an examination and make sure you haven’t contracted an illness from above."

Andrew nodded and crawled into bed.

Once he was comfortable, Vincent left the chamber and he closed his eyes. On the other bed some five feet away, he could see that Missy was sound asleep.

~*~*~*~*~

Andy walked slowly in the direction of his apartment at this time, he had gone first to an all-night pharmacy and bought some medicine for Missy's friend. As he walked, he inhaled and looked out to see that the stars were shining brightly overhead.

"Andy, is that you?" Someone suddenly called his name and he turned around to see that Monica was coming towards him.

Once she reached him, he looked somewhat confused. "What are you doing out here? It's dangerous for you to be out here by yourself?"

"I guess for the same reason you are," Monica said softly as she pointed to the bag in his hand. "I seemed to have come down with the sniffles this afternoon and thought a little herbal tea would do me a wee bit of good."

"It's not a bad idea, may I accompany you home?" He asked, and offered his arm. Something inside him was telling him that he didn't want to leave her to walk home alone. A woman walking around the streets of New York City after dark, well, this idea seemed to leave not so nice images in his mind.

"Thank you," she smiled. "That's very nice of you. What are you doing out at this hour?"

"Actually, I was asked to get some medicine for a friend, and I guess I couldn't every easily say no," he said smiling weakly.

Monica nodded. "You said you were working on an article, did you finish it?"

"Yes, luckily I did," he smiled as he held the transcript in his arms. They walked in the direction of where she lived and once they had gone up and were inside, Monica put some water on to boil and as she left that, she turned back to see that Andy was sitting at the bar and it appeared as though he was deep in thought.

Eventually, the angel came over and sat down next to him, her brown eyes seeking his, and a friendly smile on her face, but when she saw his face she reached over and touched his shoulder with a gentle hand. "Andy is everything OK?"

"Sure, why wouldn't it be?"

"Well, you look as though you have a lot on your mind. I know we just met yesterday, but if you want to talk about it, I'll listen," she smiled.

"No reason," he shrugged his shoulders and smiled weakly. "I just realized tonight that I have to tell someone I love about a mistake I made, and well, what can I say, it's not exceedingly easy, especially since I have tried for a long time to forget what the truth is."

"You realized that you can't," Monica said.

"Yes," he said. "You remember yesterday when I told you about when I met Melissa Parks and about how courageous she is?"

"Yes."

"Well, this had a direct impact on happened to me as a little boy," Andy said softly.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

"Not really," came the almost automatic response.

"Andy, the more you talk about the events of your past, the more able you will be to accept them and to understand why it was you had experienced them."

He nodded. "You know, all evening as I was walking around, I kept hearing this voice in my head, it was like a subliminal message, that just kept repeating itself over and over again. It was strange but at the same time, it was almost reassuring. It kept saying: 'The truth will set you free'. I walked around hearing this message literally engulfing me, and I realized that it was right, the only way I will ever be able to live with myself is to tell the truth, even though I wonder sometimes what the truth is."

Monica smiled and nodded. "You will know when the time comes for you to tell it."

"What makes you so sure, I mean; this is a lie that I have lived with for over twenty-five years. How can I face the truth if I have been telling myself it's something else since my childhood."

Monica rested a gentle hand on his shoulder. "Andy, the truth will come from God, and if you allow His wisdom to be in control when the time comes to tell the truth, He will give you the right words to say."

"You don't strike me as a religious type, Monica," Andy said.

"I'm not, but think about this, can someone believe in God without being religious?" As she spoke, she smiled at him. "You can trust God that He will give the right answers, to the questions you have, without being afraid. Human beings may let each other down all the time when it comes to telling the truth, but you will never let God down, Andy."

The young reporter nodded as the kettle on the stove began to whistle and Monica stood up to go and pour the water into the teapot. As she finished this, she left it for a few moments and returned to him all the while opening a package of cookies. "The tea will be ready in a few minutes," she said smiling gently at him.

"Thanks, Monica," he said.

"Don't worry, Andy, the truth will come out when you are ready for it to," she said as she went back over to the counter and poured the hot substance into two cups. As she finished this task, she went back over to where he was standing and placed the cup in front of him.

Once he held the mug in his hands, he took a sip and could feel the warmth of the liquid as he swallowed. "So what about you, where were you before you got transferred here?"

"Buffalo, I had gone there and was working at a small publication," Monica said. "I was told by my Father that I should come here and work at a bigger journal, so I came here and will try my hand at writing articles. Though I must admit, I don't think my stories are going to set the literary world on its ear, but it should be interesting."

"When I started here, I thought I would make a mockery of literary writing. I mean, I love poetry probably the most."

"I can believe that because you said that Melissa Parks is a friend of yours," Monica pulled a newspaper from her pocket. "Let me ask you a question, do you know where Melissa Parks is? This article says she disappeared and no one knows where she is?"

Andy took a deep breath, but spoke, his voice filled with sudden nervousness. "She went into seclusion."

"Do you know where she is?"

"I can't say, but she's OK," he said smiling weakly as he took another sip of his tea and then looked down at his watch. "I guess I really need to get going."

Monica nodded. "Thank you for accompanying me home."

"No problem, take care," Andy got up and left.

As soon as he was gone, she sat down on the sofa, her eyes closing almost subconsciously. "Miss Wings?" Tess' voice emerged and she opened them immediately and turned to look at her supervisor, who was now standing in the living room next to where she was lounging on the sofa.

"Tess, why am I assigned to Andy, he seems to be doing OK," Monica said softly.

"'Seems' and 'being' are two totally different things, Angel Girl," Tess said as she went into the kitchen and retrieved a cup of tea. Once she came out, she took a sip and placed the cup on the coffee table before sitting down next to Monica.

"I know, but how is Andy going to help Missy?" Monica asked.

Tess reached over and rested a hand on Monica's shoulder. "In facing the truth and telling Jacob and Vincent about it, Andy will inspire Missy to tell them that she wants to come back home."

"But, home isn't a very nice place for her," Monica objected.

"Home is with Travis, baby," Tess said. "Missy wants to have the best of both worlds, she wants to maintain her friendship with Jacob and Vincent, but she also wants to maintain a relation with her brother, and Andrew is there with her to help her face this truth. He is the one who was sent to help give her the courage to tell Vincent and Jacob what it is she really wants."

"How does Andy fit into this puzzle?"

"Andy has made these decisions already, Monica, and his measure of courage is going to help determine the level in which Missy uses hers. Do you understand?"

"I think so, both Missy and Andy wanted to move below for the longest time," Monica said softly. "They are connected in that."

The elder angel shook her head. "No, baby, Missy and Andy wanted to be loved, it didn't matter if it came from the tunnels or from their families, they only longed to know what it felt like to be loved. Missy wanted from the start to experience what it felt like to have her daddy taking her in his arms, holding her and telling her that he loves her, but he never did this, and Vincent came along and filled that monumental gap in her heart. You remember what happened when Missy told Vincent that he was to her the father she never had. But, what Missy doesn’t realize is that she already does have a Father and He loves her very much."

Monica smiled as she remembered the conversation that took place between Missy and Vincent. She had been sent to observe it and had remained there throughout.

Monica's Flashback

“You have been the best friend I could ever ask for. You’ve been more important than just someone who has protected me, you have been like a father to me,” Missy said as she wiped the tears out of her eyes, but continued speaking all the while unaware that Monica was standing in the distance observing and listening to their every word. “When I told you last night that I didn’t blame you for what was happening in my own family or with the book, you insisted that I had refused to acknowledge the truth. That hurt me far more than you could imagine, because although you may see many things in me, good and bad, there exists one other thing about me that is clear, and that is I do not lie to my friends.”

Vincent looked down into the depths of the cavern without saying a word. Missy continued to speak. “My father and brothers would still be working 16 hours a day, seven days a week with or without the book and regardless of what has happened, I would still have to deal with isolation and loneliness. Furthermore, if the book didn’t happen, I probably wouldn’t be sitting here right now, instead, I would be alone in an empty apartment staring at four walls constantly missing and thinking about you, Father, and Catherine. Do you think that you’re responsible for that, too?”

He shook his head. “Missy, I...”

“...You didn’t think about that,” she said softly finishing his sentence for him. “Vincent, I never expected you to take away all those feelings I had. I only confided in you because I always knew that you understood me better than anyone I have ever known. I never told you what I felt as a way of making you feel as though you were at fault for whatever it was that had happened. Yes, I’m frightened about going back, but I don’t blame you for that. If anything, you have helped make me feel bold, as though I could attack any problem that presented itself to me, and that I could overcome it.”

“Missy, I interfered with your life,” he said softly.

“Most fathers do that, if I’m not mistaken,” she replied.

“But, I’m not your father,” he objected.

“No, but in the ways that matter, you are more like a dad to me than my own father has been,” she said softly.

“Why do you say that?”

“Because it’s the truth. After my mother died, my father withdrew himself into some sort of mundane existence focusing everything on his work. I know he loved my mother, and when she died, it was like a part of him died along with her, but I don’t think he even realized that my brothers and I desperately needed him,” she sighed deeply. “Perhaps if anything, it was selfish of him to withdraw himself from us when we depended on his strength. Today, all he does is work, and I don’t think I even know him, because I never see him. Sure he takes care of me; I have enough to eat, and clothing to wear, but I don’t have his love, and I miss that more than you can imagine.”

Monica could feel the tears streaming from beneath her eyes as she continued to listen to this conversation, all the while wanting to go and comfort the girl, but realizing that she was not to get involved in their lives just yet. Sadly, she continued to listen as Vincent spoke, his question filled with his own brand of resolution. “Why don’t you try talking to him?”

“When? He leaves the apartment before I get up for school, and then when I come home, the place is empty. My father is at work until really late at night, and then when he does come home, I’m already in bed asleep,” she said softly. “I had hoped that he would want to see me after the book came out. I thought maybe he wouldn’t have to worry so much about the business if there was money coming in from something else. I thought maybe he would stop working so much, and that I would become his little girl again; but that didn’t happen. It seems that regardless of the book, it has only continued to isolate him.”

She rested her hand on his shoulder. “If my book hadn’t have done it, then there would have been something else that did. He refuses to look at me because I am a reminder to him. I often wonder if I should just leave home and let him continue to live his life without me forcing him to live with painful memories.”

“What do you mean?” Vincent asked.

“The same afternoon the book came out, I had been at home rummaging around the apartment. During the last years, I had not been able to find even one photograph of my mother and could not understand why. I suppose it had something to do with what you had said when we spoke the day we met. Whatever the case, I started thinking about her and then something compelled me to try and find some sort of connection to her,” Missy paused. “When I finally did, I discovered what it was that my father had been most afraid of.”

“What?”

“I’ll show you,” Missy pulled a small snapshot from her pocket and handed it to him. “Look, this is the picture of my mother that I found. Tell me who she reminds you of.”

Vincent took the photo from her and looked down at it. “She looks just like you.”

Missy nodded, “to my father, looking at me is only a constant reminder of her and what he has lost. Nothing will change that, Vincent, not the book, the reporters, or even my status at school. Nothing will change the fact that he sees her in me, and sometimes I wish I could just disappear so he can forget.”

“If he loved her, he won’t ever forget her, Missy,” Vincent said.

“Perhaps, but if I went away, then at least he would be able to let go.”

He looked at the photo and then back at her, “your mother was a beautiful woman.”

“I wish I could remember her better. The photo does help a little though,” she said. “But, please believe me, I don’t want you to think that you are at fault for what has happened. There’s always going to be something that will keep my father and me separated, but the last person on this planet that could create that, would be you. What you have done for me outweighs everything. Vincent, you have helped me to understand what it is that has created a barrier between us. For that, I can at least move on, and I don’t have to question it anymore.”

Vincent nodded as he handed the photo back to her. “Thank you, Missy.”

She looked down into the cavern and after a few moments, she looked back over at him. “Vincent.”

“Yes?”

“You’re not angry with me, are you?” she asked.

“Not angry, I feel a little regretful is all,” he said.

“Why?”

“Because I was wrong,” he said.

“But nobody’s perfect, you are just as capable of making mistakes as I am,” she said wrapping her arms around him.

“If your father could see just how special you truly are, he would love you as you should be loved,” Vincent said softly holding her.

“Thank you,” she smiled weakly.

“Will you forgive me?” he asked.

“Yeah, after all, you’re only human,” she smiled.

He looked at her somewhat skeptically, a small smile covering his face. “I am?”

She grinned somewhat sheepishly; “I see it in you, in your heart. You always said that that is where it matters.”

He chuckled softly as he ruffled her hair.

“I remember the first day we met, I hadn’t seen your face yet, but you were so kind to me, so caring. You had helped me get down from Mouse’s trap and as I felt myself falling, you caught me and said ‘don’t worry, I’ve got you, I won’t let you fall’. I threw my arms around you because you had offered me security when I was frightened. Then after I saw you, you still talked to me and you helped me to not be afraid. That was you that did this, you and your gentle nature. You taught me that there exists far more worth in a person than the exterior, and that the real beauty lies within. In spending that afternoon with me, you ended my search of finding someone who could fill the gap I had in my heart. You talked to me and made me believe that I was special, but I also know that if that beauty exists within me, then it must also exist in you as well.”

“You have a good heart, Missy. Don’t ever stop letting it guide you,” he said.

“There was something else I wanted to tell you,” she said softly. “It’s about something I did this morning, after I woke up and saw you sitting next to my bed. You must have fallen asleep about the same time I did last night. Anyway, when I saw you sitting there, it reminded me of what you had said some time ago about promising to protect me. Sitting there, I saw you as my protector.”

“I was asleep,” he said smiling slightly. “I could have done very little to protect you in such a state. When I woke up, I noticed that you had put your quilt over me.”

She nodded, “I did something else before I left the chamber.”

“What did you do?”

“I gave you a kiss,“ she whispered and almost laughed when she saw the alarm in his eyes. “No, it’s not what you think.” She leaned over and kissed him on the cheek the same way she had done when he had been asleep. “I only did that.”

“Why did you?” he asked.

“Because you’re my friend and I love you,” she said simply

Monica's Flashback End

"I stood there on that bridge and I listened to her and how much wisdom she had. She was so strong, and yet, I could feel her pain," Monica said as she finished telling Tess about that conversation she had overheard.

"That is true, Miss Wings, and today, Missy has shown in so many ways that she has the ability to teach both her brother and Andy about what it means to be strong, but that's why Andrew is with her now."

"How is Andrew, I've been so worried about him since he left us yesterday," Monica said.

"Tomorrow afternoon, he will get his voice back, because he will have a very important message to give to Missy, but a lot will happen to both Andrew and Missy between now and then."

"I still don't understand why Andrew doesn't have his voice," Monica said softly.

"You remember when you were blinded?" Tess asked and once Monica nodded, she continued. "For so long, Andrew has used his voice to express to people the beauty that they are and wonder of the Father's creations. In all of this, he has yet to learn that his words may mean a great deal to those he helps, but his gestures are just as significant. When he reaches out and hugs a person, his giving a part of himself that he does not often share. In meeting Missy, he is discovering the impact he can have without using verbal language."

Monica shook her head, she still could not understand the significance of this, but Tess reached over and patted her hand. "You lose a sense and suddenly the world looks different to you. Right now, Andrew is seeing this first hand."

The young caseworker nodded and took a sip of her tea. "Andrew is going to be OK?"

Tess nodded and smiled. "He's going to be just fine, baby. Chances are we will see our Angel Boy before this assignment is over."

Monica nodded and leaned over and rested her head against the shoulder of her supervisor. When she felt Tess' arms wrapping around her, she smiled weakly as relief washed over her. Although she had not said so, she was really concerned about Andrew. It was no secret that she had been thinking about him since he had walked away from her and Tess at the beginning of this assignment.

~*~*~*~*~

Missy opened her eyes the following morning and crawled out of bed. As she did, Jacob and Vincent came into the chamber and when he saw the stranger on one of the beds, Jacob looked at Missy, his eyes filled with sternness.

When the young girl's gaze eventually met his, she knew that she was in trouble, there was something in his eyes that said as much. Eventually, instead of Jacob speaking, Vincent did.

"Missy, Father went looking for you this morning, and when he didn't find you at the dining chamber or in your room, he came and asked me where you were," Vincent offered and she knew that it would not have been wise of him to lie to his father. Instead of speaking, the young girl nodded numbly and looked down at her lap.

"Vincent, I want you to take him out of here," Jacob said once he cast a glance in Andrew's direction.

"No," Missy finally found her voice. She put her hand protectively on the human angel's shoulder. "I won't let you. He's sick, Father, please don't make him leave."

"Missy," Jacob's voice reached a warning level, but the young girl would not back down and for some reason, he knew it. Taking a deep breath he looked into the eyes of the girl. "You really care for him, don't you?"

Missy could feel the tears in her eyes, but she looked up at him. "Andrew is my friend, Father, I met him yesterday and we spent the afternoon together in the whispering caverns. He had gotten into the tunnels to get in out of the rain." As she spoke, Andrew shifted on the bed and she looked down at him, her hand brushing his hair out from in front of his eyes. Without waiting to see if he had woken up, Missy's attention diverted back to Jacob and she took a deep breath.

"You kept his presence a secret, Missy, why?" Jacob asked.

"I was scared," she whispered, her voice emerging barely above a whisper.

"Scared, but why?" Jacob asked.

"She was afraid that you were going to react to Andrew in the same manner you reacted to her when she first came to the tunnels," Vincent said softly.

"I'm only looking out for the people here, Vincent," Jacob said sourly.

"I know," Missy said softly, her voice cracking with emotion. "I wasn't trying to betray your trust, I was only helping someone who needed a friend. I know this sounds strange, but Andrew doesn't know anything about me, but he is so nice."

Jacob went over and could see that Andrew's jacket was hanging over a chair, a slip of paper sticking out, and without a word, he reached for it and pulled it out and adjusted his glasses so he could read it. Once he had, he handed it to Vincent.

As he read the article, Vincent took a deep breath and looked at Missy. "I'm afraid that Father is right this time, Missy." He held up the article that Andrew had found in the park and showed it to the girl.

When Missy saw this, she shook her head in denial. "He knew, he knew all about it," she turned and ran from the chamber, her eyes filling with tears, behind her, Andrew had heard the commotion and as soon as he had rubbed the sleep out of his eyes, he sat up on the bed as Vincent turned and faced him.

"Why do you have this?" He asked holding up the article.

Jacob put a calming hand on his son's shoulder as Andrew saw the article and the color faded from his already pale cheeks. Taking a deep breath he looked at Vincent and began to sign to him. I found the article in the park is all. I didn't come down here with the intention of scaring her.

"Then why are you here?" Vincent asked.

Andrew took a deep breath, but when no words emerged he crawled off the bed, grabbed his jacket and slowly left the chamber.

As soon as Andrew was gone, Jacob looked at Vincent. "Where do you think he's going?"

"I don't know, but maybe one of us should go and try to find Missy," came Vincent's soft response.

Jacob shook his head and rested a gentle hand on the shoulder of his son. "I think Missy needs a little bit of time alone. We have already done what we could for her, and now it will be up to her to decide how this will be resolved."

Vincent nodded, something told him that his father was right, and as much as it hurt him to see Missy in so much pain, he knew that this was something that she would have to handle herself, but in the back of his mind, he knew that the young girl had an added burden resting on her shoulders. After a few moments, he looked at Jacob. "I think we're eventually going to have to send her above again. I don't think she's very happy here."

Jacob nodded. "I've noticed this in her as well, she's withdrawn into herself, she doesn't talk to either of us, and I think we both know that she will eventually have to tell us if she would like to return above."

Vincent nodded. "I didn't want to acknowledge that, but Catherine and I talked about it and we're going to do what we can to arrange for her to see her brother again. Travis has made every indication that he would like to take care of her again, and it would be wrong of us to force her to stay here," Vincent said softly.

"Let's wait and see," Jacob said gently. "I know that you love her, and she loves you, it is evident in how she responds to you, and just because she may go back above, her friendship with us is going to remain strong, and we both know that she will find her way." He paused before speaking again. "Come, let's go get some breakfast, maybe we'll see Missy in the dining chamber."

Vincent shook his head, he had his doubts about whether or not Missy would show up. At that moment, he figured that the last thing the young girl would be thinking about would be food. He had seen the utter heartbreak on her face when she had ran out of the chamber, and he figured that she would not show up for breakfast, she would either go back to her room or find a place to sit alone.

As he followed his father out of the chamber, all he could ponder was why. Why did Andrew hurt Missy, especially after she had gone so far out of her way to help him. This didn't make any sense to him, simply because she really had put forth so much effort to be his friend.

Shaking his head and staring down at the tunnel floor, Vincent realized that he, too, was not really in the mood to eat anything either, so instead of going to the dining chamber with Jacob, he returned to his own room.

~*~*~*~*~

As the sun's light came into the bedroom of his new home, Travis opened his eyes the newness of this apartment still with him, as he looked around and after some time had passed, he suddenly recognized that this was his new home and he was still somewhat disoriented. He crawled out of bed, quickly showered, dressed, and had breakfast.

When he finished his usual morning routine, he grabbed his jacket and went to do the shopping that he had intended on doing the day before. As he came back up the walk some three hours later, he realized that it was nearly noon and he immediately could see that Tess was back in the garden and was hard at work trying to remove the weeds from the flowerbeds. "Hey, Tess," he called out causing her to look up from her work, but she smiled broadly when she recognized from where the voice originated.

"Hello there, baby," she called all the while using this term of endearment with him and it occurred to him that she probably called a lot of people 'baby'. He walked over towards her.

"I just got all the things I needed this morning, but once I change clothes, I'll come down and give you a hand." Once he said this, he disappeared inside his apartment only to come out a few minutes later dressed in jeans and an old t-shirt.

"Did you sleep well?" She asked.

"I woke up a little disoriented, but it felt so nice to come to the realization that I actually have a new home," he smiled weakly.

"That's good to hear. I think it is really nice that you decided to moved in out here, it's always nice to have an extra pair of hands to help with these flowerbeds," she said as she moved some carnations to the side with her hand so she could get to the weeds that were growing nearby. "Don't get me wrong, that's not the only reason I'm glad you're here."

"I'm glad to help," Travis said sincerely, but chuckled. "Actually, I really like flowers. I know it probably sounds stupid for a guy to say this kind of thing, but I always enjoyed plants and things. My mother was really into flowers when I was a little kid. She would grow just about anything she could find. Her greatest accomplishment was managing to grow orchids. I will never forget that, because everyone was totally blown away that she could keep them alive. Most people either over-watered them or thought they had died off when they stopped blossoming."

Tess nodded. "Orchids are hard to keep, so that was quite an accomplishment for her."

Travis smiled weakly. "I guess I'd consider myself lucky if I could keep a cactus alive."

Tess stopped working and looked over at him. "You know, for someone who likes flowers, that is an awfully negative attitude to have about them."

"Sorry, but the truth is; life is not exceedingly positive for me," Travis said honestly as he pulled some weeds out of the ground and cast them to one side.

"Then tell me," Tess said gently. "Tell me why it is that you have lost all hope, baby." As she spoke she took the gloves off that she was wearing and cast them aside as she inched closer to where he was now sitting on the ground.

"My family has completely fallen apart, Tess," Travis said shaking his head. "My baby sister…" his voice trailed off and he stared down at the ground. "Last night, for the first time since her book came out, I actually sat down and read some of Missy's poems. I had never stopped long enough before to actually read them, and now that I did, it just about broke my heart."

"Travis, your little sister has used poetry as a way of facing her pain, so it's probably no wonder that they invoked such a response in you. One day, she is going to find that pain cannot just be hidden away in the words of a poem, anymore than your pain can be hidden away with jokes or work or even unpacking a cardboard box. I knew from the start that you missed your sister, and I knew that you needed to find healing."

"How? You didn't even know me until yesterday." Travis could feel the tears still streaming down over his cheeks and he tried without success to wipe them away. When these attempts proved futile, he could feel that she had reached over and brushed the tears from his eyes.

"Travis, whether you believe it or not, you have not been alone in all of this, God has sent you quite a bit of help," she said gently as she began to glow and when his eyes widened, she continued. "Don't be afraid, baby, I'm an angel, and the Father sent me here to give you a message. This isn't just about your little sister, this is about you, Travis. You don't belong in Missy's shadow, you belong in this world, making a difference in your own right. This isn't just about who writes the nicest poetry, this is about a family that is falling apart and needs desperately to get back together. There's a little girl who needs her big brother, and a Father in heaven who loves you both, but He wants you to know that He gave you your own set of gifts and abilities."

"He couldn't have…" Travis said softly. "I'm not worth it, I abandoned her, maybe because I was jealous of her, or…"

"…No, what you did was you tried to take control of your own life," Tess said as she reached over and took his now trembling hands in her own. "God gave you an unbelievable amount of strength, Travis and He enabled you to find the truth about your life and where it is going. He fed into your spirit the inspiration to go and apply for that job back in February. He gave you a love and knowledge of music that would make a difference when your voice emerged over the airwaves of New York City. He gave you a second chance to find what it is that makes Travis Parks the beautiful and majestic child of the Father that you are."

"Father?" Travis shook his head. "I don't know if I want another father. I just want Missy to know that I love her, that I want to be there for her and to give her the things that our father didn't."

"He was grieving just the same as you, and while he reacted in anger about the events that had taken place, you were pressured to hide your grief away. You were the same age is Missy when your mother died," Tess wrapped her arms around the grief-stricken young man. "You interpreted your father's anger, and kept the pain and the heartbreak of Judith's death inside. You said just now that you don't want another father, but what you don't want is a father like the earthly one who tried to suppress your grief and sadness. The same one, is the man who rejected and neglected his youngest child based only on her appearance."

Travis looked at her. "Tess, what should I do?"

"I can't tell you that, but I can tell you that God will help you if you ask Him. He's not going to take everything you hope for away, and He's not going to be angry with you for the choices you've made. He's going to be there for you and He's going to love you as you should be loved."

"Ever since the book came out, I have felt so insignificant. Missy has been so strong, and grown up. She faced everything that has happened with courage and strength," Travis said softly.

"She faced it because her friends stood by her and encouraged her to face it. Travis, Missy had to find the courage to face what had happened in her life. She had a friend named Jacob who stood next to her and helped her to stand up to your father when she needed to. But, who was there with you when you were twelve?"

"Nobody, I had a radio with music that helped," Travis said softly.

"Yes, and God was there, you just didn't see Him. Yet, he there stood beside you and told you that it was OK to cry, and that it was OK for you to be sad because you lost your mother. He knew that you were so caught up in your grief that you didn't see Him holding you up," Tess stroked his hair gently, her voice soft and gentle as she continued. "He isn't angry that you didn't sense His presence, baby, He knew then and He knows now that this has taken so much out of you."

The young man held tightly to her and nodded. "I did everything wrong."

"You didn't, you tried to find closure and strength through difficulty and pain, but finding that means facing the truth, and that means taking a risk now and again, all the while knowing that the Father will lift you up higher than you can imagine if you trust Him."

"I'm not very religious, Tess," he whispered.

"This isn't about religion, baby. Do you think an angel would come here to try and make you go to church, or attend a synagogue or temple? No, an angel comes to tell you what you need to know, that God exists and He is there for you, but most importantly, that God loves you, and He wants to help your spirit heal from seven years of pain and heartache. Will you let Him?"

"I don't know how," Travis said softly.

Tess looked at him, but after a few minutes, she offered him a gentle smile. "Did you ever hear the saying 'acknowledging that there is something broken in one's life is half the battle of making it whole again'?"

Travis shook his head.

"It's true, let me show you something," Tess reached to one side and picked up a book that was lying on the ground next to her. It had not been there five seconds ago, but now she held it in one hand, with the other, she helped him sit back up as she opened the book and handed it to him. "Read this poem, Travis."

He nodded and glanced down at the writing on the page and cleared his throat as he started to read the poem aloud.

I was lost alone and waiting for you

Calling your name as the wind silenced my voice.

I could hear it, the sounds of music hidden beneath the leaves

As they would rustle and give the area a chaotic sense.

I would watch as the birds flew over my head

Their cries breaking through the wind as it ruffled my hair.

I had seen this place before, filled with hurt and pain

It was the day you left and I was all alone.

My unanswered questions soft and remaining so

I wanted to find you, to remember, to cry.

Yet I couldn't, but the world around me continued

The intensity of the wind filled with disharmony.

Death was the end, no beginning, and no middle

I was sitting here waiting for you to call my name.

To whisper it amidst the wind and tell me you were at peace

I wanted to know, to cry out to the heavens, and ask them why?

But, the stillness that encased me never offered an answer

It only isolated me, the pain like a message trapped in a bottle.

Today, years later I still long to weep for you

I sit here hoping that a message would be given back to me.

That I would find the healing I need, but alas I did not

All around me, your words were silenced, your faith oppressed.

I cannot cry as I wish to do, I cannot even mourn that which I lost

I can only move on, hoping ignorance would protect me from pain.

His voice was cracking with emotion as he finished the poem and closed the book, his eyes staring down at the ground. "That was really how she felt?"

"Yes, Missy harbored her pain just the same as you did, she used her poetry as a means to find the peace that has been denied her, just like you wanted to find your own sense of closure after your mother died," Tess said gently. "But, instead of finding it together, you both ran in two different directions, both of you passing each other by; not realizing that you needed each other in the most profound way. Travis, God wants you to know that it's not too late, but it will be if you do nothing."

The young man looked down at the book that now rested in his hand. "What can I do?"

"Put it in God's hands," Tess said gently. "Don't be afraid, He will not abandon you, Travis. When the time comes to say 'I will take responsibility for Melissa because I love her', then God will be there as you speak those words and accept them as being the rock solid truth."

The young man nodded and as the glow dissipated slightly from around the wise woman, he began to weep once again in her arms, but this time not so much because of the pain, but rather, because knowing the truth would guide him to his own sense of healing.

~*~*~*~*~

Missy was still running through the tunnels that afternoon, and it was obvious to anyone who were to see her, that she only wanted to get away, hide herself from the pain that seemed to encase her heart. Andrew had betrayed her, he had been following her and she did not see it before, but now she could and it shattered her already fragile heart.

Closing her eyes, she sank down to the ground and hugged her knees to her chest. A few minutes later, she opened her eyes once again and looked through blurred vision down the corridor of the tunnel. She did not know if she could cry anymore than she already had done, her face was red and blotchy; her eyes sore.

At the other end of the corridor, Andrew stood. He had not seen Jacob nor Vincent since that morning and he was still not feeling very well and had obviously gotten a cold from being in the tunnels. Although, the antibiotics that he had been given the night before seemed to help, he was still easily winded.

Within moments of seeing her, he came slowly through the corridor and sat down on the ground next to her, his hand coming to rest on her shoulder, thus causing her to turn and look at him.

As she did, he took the article from his pocket and ripped it down the middle. What the angel did not expect as a result of this action was to see this fragile young girl break down and cry bitterly, the action reminding her of when her father had taken her mother's picture and ripped it in the same manner. Eventually, she spoke, her voice barely audible. "Go away, it hurts too much to remember."

Andrew did not leave her, he did not even try to speak; instead he pulled her into his arms and held her tightly as her sobbing grew in levels of intensity.

Feeling herself enfolded in his arms, she continued to weep bitterly. "You knew who I was, from the start you knew, but you didn't even write it down. And I told you so much about myself. Oh God, why did I even trust you?"

Andrew brushed his hand gently through her hair, his ability to speak still not there, but after a few moments, he rested a hand against the side of her face, his eyes imploring her to tell him what she needed to say. Glancing down, he stared at the article that was now on the tunnel ground and after a few moments, he looked at her.

"You didn't mean to hurt me, did you?" She asked weakly after a few moments had passed.

Andrew shook his head indicating to her that that was the last thing he would ever want to do.

Missy looked down at the ground and then back at him. She remembered when he had written on that piece of paper that she could tell him anything without being afraid of being judged. Somewhere deep inside of her she knew that she could trust him. "I guess I can tell you everything, but not here. I don't want to talk about it here; can we go to my chamber?"

Andrew nodded and once he got to his feet, he helped her to stand up as well. Seconds later, she was leading him back through the tunnel in the direction of her small room.

As they arrived and came inside, Missy went over to the dresser and retrieved the photograph of her mother before going and sitting on the bed. Andrew remained standing and only sat down after she had moved over on the bed, thus providing him some room to sit down next to her. Once they were both seated, she looked at him as she showed him the picture.

"This is, I mean; this was my mother," Missy began as the tears brimmed from beneath her eyes. "She died when I was five-years-old and…" The words caught in her throat, thus making her unable to finish saying what she had started to. After a few moments, she tried to wipe the moistness from beneath her eyes.

"I know that this was over seven years ago, but she was very special to me. S-she used to sing to me and she would tell me stories and read me poetry." As the tears continued to stream down her cheeks she could feel the emotions getting the better of her. "She died, Andrew, she died and left me here all alone. I was five then, but now…now, I'm totally alone…"

Andrew reached over and touched her shoulder, thus causing her to look up to see him shaking his head.

Missy nodded slowly, the heartbreak evident in her unhappy hazel eyes. "It's true, see, when I was nine, I started writing poetry, it was the only way that I knew of to try and understand why it had happened. I never could, but it was the only thing that kept me from going crazy. I would sit at my desk and I would write poetry about my mom, and I would tell her all the things I wished I had told her when she was alive. I would write about the wind, angels, hope, and love; all those things that died when she did." She shook her head as she took the photograph out of his hands and went over to return the object to the dresser. This time, she could see the angel figure there and she reached for it and held it cupped in her hands.

With it still in her hand, she walked back over to where he was sitting. "This used to belong to her, and my father hated it, he hated anything and everything that reminded him of her. I didn't know it until I found the picture, but that's why he hated me, Andrew, he can't even look at me and see someone worthy of love, because he sees her in me. But, I'm not her, I'm Melissa, not Judith." As she spoke, she put the angel against the pillow next to her stuffed tiger.

Seconds later, she covered her face with her hands and cried, she could feel him wrapping her in his arms and pulling her into his embrace, her head coming to rest against his chest. As her crying became more emotional, she could feel her fists hitting against him, but this only caused the angel to hold her much tighter. 'Let it out,' he wanted to say to her, but he couldn't, so he just held her in his embrace, hoping all the while that this helped.

"After she died, he destroyed everything that reminded him of her, but he couldn't destroy me, so he hated me instead. I mean; how can I love myself if my own father wouldn't?" She took a deep breath and looked up at him. "My own brothers won't even talk to me, and it hurt me so much when Travis walked out. I knew that he had dreams and stuff, but I really needed him, and he left. I told him he should simply because I didn't want him to feel like I was the reason he had to stay. Oh God, I wish he had, or at least that he had taken me with him." Taking another breath she looked at Andrew, the hopelessness she carried overwhelming.

After a few moments of silence, she continued to speak, her voice now hoarse, but she seemed to have gotten over the outburst, because now her voice emerged, soft and without emotion. "I don't think being popular is that big of a deal, if only I had someone who would stand by me if I were to go back up there, then I could go back and face anything, even reporters and fair-weathered friends."

As her words stopped, she did not notice that Andrew had changed. Instead of being dressed in old and dirty clothing, the angel was dressed in a beige suit, and a soft glow was emanating from him. When she didn't notice this change, he eventually reached over and cupped her face in his gentle hands and tipped up her chin up so that she would be looking into his eyes. When she saw him in this new stance, she started to back away from him, but he held her still, as her eyes widened in fear. "Shhh, it's OK," he whispered gently as he felt her starting to struggle against his hold.

"A-Andrew, w-what's h-happening?" She whimpered when she realized that he was not going to let her go.

"The truth is what's happening," he began, his voice soft, his hand still brushing through her hair and out from in front of her eyes. "I'm an angel, Missy."

She shook her head, somehow not able to even believe his words, but within seconds she spoke, her voice trembling. "A-an angel, you mean f-from God?"

"Yes," he smiled gently at her, but he could still see the fear in her expression. "You have nothing to be afraid of, Missy, I won't hurt you. Deep down inside, I think you know that."

She nodded numbly, all the while trying to process his words, but she knew that she could trust him. The realization seemed to have always been there, from yesterday at the whispering caverns, in the hospital chamber and now here, he was really here to help her. "Y-you can really talk. B-but, why couldn't you before?" She finally managed to say.

"God took my voice away for a short time; I suppose as a lesson to me in listening and being there for people instead of just talking and offering advice," he said softly shrugging his shoulders. "That's honestly the only reason I could surmise as to why He would do this."

"T-then you knew everything about me before you met me?" She asked softly.

"I only knew what God wanted me to know about you. Missy, He wants you to know that you have had angels with you, sweetheart, not just when your mother was sick and dying, but throughout your life," Andrew said softly his hand still brushing the hair out from in front of her eyes. "You probably didn't realize this because at the time you were so sad about your mother that you were simply trying to find a way to cope with the pain you carried inside."

Missy looked up after a few moments, her voice sad. "Is there really a heaven?"

"Yes, there is," he said softly and nodded. "That's where your mother is right at this moment, she's with God and He embraces her everyday with His love."

"I'm sorry I didn't believe you back when Vincent and Father found that newspaper article," she whispered, shame flushing her now tearstained cheeks. "I was just scared because I thought you had followed me here and wanted to harass me."

He shook his head. "No, I wouldn't do anything that would hurt you, but I understand that you've been hurt many times by those who wish only to use you. I knew that when I was sent to you, I knew that you had been hurt by such people many times in your life, Missy, but I would not ever do anything that would hurt you."

The young girl nodded, her eyes still filled with tears, but she felt the relief wash over her as she realized that she had not been wrong to have trusted him.

The gentle words of the angel suddenly brought her back to this moment, to the words that she desperately needed to hear and understand. "I know that this is the first time you have actually allowed yourself to feel the pain that exists inside of you. But, seven years is an awfully long time for you to hold the grief from when your mother died inside. You need to understand that it was not something that was unnatural, she merely went home," he said.

"Home?"

"To Heaven, Missy, that is the home of all God's children, and I know this because I knew your mother," Andrew said gently.

"Y-you knew her?"

"Yes, I did, and she was a remarkable person, she told me that you were someone very special to her. You know, before she died, she was worried about what would happen to you."

"She was?"

"Yes, and when I took her to heaven, she asked me to come back and look in on you now and again," Andrew smiled gently at her. "So I did."

"Why didn't I ever get to meet you before now?" She asked.

"That's a hard question to answer, Missy. I really wanted to meet you, and tell you all of this before now, but I didn't get a chance," he said honestly, but when he looked at her, he could see the pain in her eyes. "When I asked the Father to let me come to you, He told me that there was someone else already in your life and He entrusted them with the task of telling you what you needed to know."

"He did, but who was it?"

"Two individuals who later became your friends: Vincent and Jacob Wells," Andrew said softly.

Missy looked at him all the while realizing that both of her friends had often told her that her mother would have been proud of her, and regardless of what Andrew had said, the tears spilled down over her face. Instead of speaking, she continued to hold inside of herself how much hope she carried in the deep recesses of her heart that her mother would have been proud of her for the person she had become. Now, that an angel was seated next to her and telling her that the wisdom that emanated from Jacob and Vincent's words were the truth, she could barely believe that it was true.

After a few moments of silence passed, she looked up at him. "It hurts to remember her now. Andrew, why does it hurt so much? I can't understand why it hurts, I feel like my heart is breaking."

"I think that part of the reason you feel so much pain is because you never really got an adequate chance to say good-bye to her. You never grieved the person you loved and lost, instead you held the pain and agony inside for all those years," he said gently. "But now, right here, right now, you can let all that out."

When she heard these words, she began to sob softly, but Andrew reached over and touched her shoulder as he continued to speak, his voice gentle. "She's not completely gone, Missy, she's still with you and even though you were constantly being told how to feel or what to think, she knows how much pain you are in. After all, you were in a place where you could not speak openly about what had happened in your life, so you found the solace in writing. Today, you are beginning to discover that although writing poetry does help when it comes to facing important things in your life, it cannot take all the pain and heartache away." He took a deep breath and looked at her earnestly. "By no means does this take away the wonderful gift that God has given to you, but you need to realize that all the poetry in the world is not going to make things easier, it might help you in the short term, but in the long run there is one thing that will help you, and that's why I'm here."

Missy wiped her hand over her face, the persistent tears still streaming down over her cheeks. "W-what should I do?"

"Just trust that God will be there for you, and He will carry you when you need to be carried, He will help you when you need His help, and if you just ask Him to do so, He will take your pain away and heal your broken spirit."

"I'm scared to even ask Him, I'm afraid that He'll abandon me just like my father did," Missy whimpered.

"No, sweetheart, He won't, He will love you and never reject or abandon you," Andrew said softly as he shook his head and continued to stroke her hair tenderly.

"H-He won't?"

"No, I promise you He will be there for you always," Andrew smiled gently at her as he felt her collapsing in his arms her face buried against his chest. As she continued to cry in his arms, she found the courage to reach a trembling hand upwards until she touched the smoothness of his face.

"Andrew?"

"What is it, sweetheart?"

"You really couldn't talk, could you?" She asked weakly.

Andrew took her hand in both of his. "No, I couldn't. When you found me, I was mute, sad, and very lonely," he began. "I didn't lie to you, and I didn't betray your trust either. I was sent here to help you, to be your friend, and you proved yourself as a shining example of what a friend really is."

"I thought I didn't know, that I was beyond anyone's help," Missy said softly and looked at him, her hazel eyes filled with pain.

Andrew looked at her, his eyes serene. "No, you're not beyond help."

"Are you going to stay?" She asked softly.

He nodded. "Yes, I will stay until the Father tells me I have to go."

"You'll still be able to talk, won't you?" She asked as the glow faded and Andrew was once more dressed as he had been before.

"Yes," he smiled at her as he nodded.

"You're not still sick?" She asked softly. "I mean; I was really scared for you."

"Thank you so much for your concern for me, but, I'm fine now," he reached over and touched the side of her face with his hand. "What about you, do you feel any better?"

She nodded. "Yeah, I think so. I mean; I feel better, but right now I'm so tired and it kind of scares me because I don't know why."

"You have spent the last hour or so allowing your real feelings to emerge and this is an extremely difficult thing to do, not only emotionally, but also physically. All of this is important because it means that you are facing the truth about specific events in your life. However, because it's been over seven years for you, it has taken a great deal out of you," Andrew said softly. "I think for that reason, this is significant because it's been so long since you had the chance to really feel these emotions and what they have done to you."

"What's going to happen now, Andrew?" She asked weakly as she yawned slightly but tried to hide it from him.

"Well, first, you're going to get some rest," he said gently and once she stood up he followed suit and pulled the blankets aside and once she crawled back onto the bed and had removed her shoes, he tucked her under the covers and leaned over so she could see that he was still there. "You will be making some choices and whatever happens, you have to be honest with yourself as well as those you love. Just like Andy will have to do?"

"Andy, you know him?" She asked.

"My friend Monica is working with him," he smiled gently but pressed a finger against his lips as an indication that this was going to remain their secret.

She nodded as she covered her lips with her own finger. "Don't worry, I'm good at keeping secrets."

"I know you are," he smiled down at her, but kissed her forehead gently as she closed her eyes. Within seconds, the exhausted girl had drifted off to sleep.

Part 4

The following morning, Andy arrived at the office of where he worked. He had spent the entire evening doing the finishing touches on the article he had written about Missy. As he stood in the elevator, he took a deep breath as he looked down at the tiled floor. His conversation with Monica on Saturday had taken its toll on him, and when he stepped out of the elevator, he walked slowly towards the office that belonged to Bernard Franklin, the editor of the journal.

As he reached the glass doors to the editor's office, he tapped on the door before he heard a loud "come in" from the other side of the door.

Entering the office, he took the transcript and laid it on the desk. "Mr. Franklin, here's the article you wanted."

"Thank you, Hudson, I really appreciate you getting this done on such short notice," Franklin said as he opened the transcript and began to look through the file. "You know it's funny, but I relate to that little girl. I wish I had as healthy a manner to deal with life's little ups and downs like she did."

"What do you mean, Sir?" Andy asked.

"Well, let's just say that a number of our readers relate to her. I have spoken to a lot of people since this story came out about Melissa Parks, and since the day I met her here and I think the reason so many people relate to her, is because they know the feeling of rejection she does."

"You know about her father and brother?" Andy asked.

"Yes, unfortunately, I do," Bernard said softly as he stood up and went to the door and opened it. "Monica, would you come in here please?"

Seconds later, the auburn headed angel came into the office and the door was closed. "Monica, will you please tell Hudson what you found out for me yesterday?"

"Of course, I did some research after I talked to you Saturday night, Andy," Monica began and looked at Bernard Franklin. "I found out that Hudson is not your real family name."

"How did you find out?" The young reporter asked.

"Through this," Monica said softly as she produced an old newspaper clipping. Andy looked down at the headline, the color draining from his face as he read the following headline: Six Year Old Boy Vanishes in Central Park

"You see, Andy, you cannot run away from the truth," Monica said softly.

"Where did you go?" Bernard wanted to know.

Andy sighed deeply, 'the truth will set you free', he thought, but this truth was not something he was ready to relate. Taking a deep breath he looked at them. "I had met some friends and moved in with them."

"You had disappeared from the city," the older man said.

"I know, but there was a reason," Andy said softly. "Later, when I came back, I thought about going and seeing if I could find my family, but…"

"What happened, Andy?" Monica asked softly. "What made you run?"

"I thought my parents didn't want me," he whispered.

Bernard came out from behind the desk and he rested a gentle hand on the young reporter's shoulder, thus causing him to look up and a question loomed as he began to speak, his words soft. "I did some research on you over the weekend and Monica was here to help with it," he began all the while smiling slightly. "I have something I want to tell you. It not only has to do with why I hired you earlier this year, but also because of what was happening after 'The Wind Will Guide Me' was released. The fact is, Andy, I knew who you were from the start."

"I don't understand," Andy looked at him all the while shaking his head.

"I know your parents, Andy, and I know that they have been looking for you for a long time," he motioned towards the article that Monica had shown to him.

"You know them?" Andy asked as he felt the tears begin to stream down over his face.

Bernard nodded as he pulled out his wallet and opened it. As he did an old photograph fell out and landed on the table.

Monica came over and rested her hand on the shoulder of the young reporter. "Melissa finds solace in the photograph that she has of her mother, Andy, but Bernard finds his solace in the picture of his son."

Andy looked down at the picture, and then up at the man who was now standing behind him. "You're my dad?"

Bernard nodded as he retrieved the picture from off the desk. "This was the last picture I had of you, and when I saw your transcript from journalism school, I knew if I didn't get to see you as my son, then I could at least see you every day at this office."

Andy looked at Monica. "You're not an intern?"

"No, I'm not, your father, as well as some friends, had asked me to come here and help you find the truth." Monica said smiling gently. "Bernard wanted to tell you that neither he nor your mother ever rejected you, but during the time when you felt these feelings of isolation, it was right after his mother had died and he was coping with grief."

Andy looked at the older man and shook his head. "I'm so sorry."

Bernard took his son in his arms and held him. As the embrace loosened, he smiled at Andy. "I think you know that everything is forgiven, and it's going to be OK. There is more to this story than what you already know, though, and it may explain a lot about this." He pointed to the transcript that Andy had given him some ten minutes before.

"What is it?" The young man became suddenly nervous when he saw his father open the folder. "I mean; what does this have to do with Missy?"

"Her mother's name was Judith, and she grew up about three blocks from here, she lived in a run down part of town and she used to write stories on large pieces of cardboard while her father and mother worked to make ends meet. This was a long time ago before I became an editor, and back then, you could buy a bag of popcorn at the movies for only a few pennies."

"Tell him what you told me, Bernard," Monica said softly. "The truth will resolve all of this."

"I worked part time at the movie theater, I was about your age back then. I worked with Judith's mom, she was a couple years older than me, and she was so pretty, her name was Sandy, and she was really a great lady, but bless her heart, she had cancer, and this form of cancer was hereditary as well as fatal."

"What happened to her?" Andy asked.

"Sandy died about a year after she started working there," Bernard took a deep breath. "It was hard, but before she died, she asked me to take care of her daughter and so I agreed, and took Judith in after she died. Your mother and I raised her as our daughter."

"Why didn't she just stay with her father?"

"He was not a pleasant guy, Andy, he would drink excessively and was physically and emotionally abusive towards Judith as well as her mother," Bernard said softly as he shook his head. "When Judith got older, she met a man who would become her husband and got married. She would write letters back to us and about the same time I became editor here, she had sent a really long letter and told us about her children and how they were doing, but the one she was most concerned about, was Melissa. You see, when she got sick, she asked me, or better said, she pleaded with me to help her daughter Melissa as much as I could, just like Sandy had begged me to help with Judith. She didn't really ask me to do too much about the boys, because she knew that their father would take care of them, but she knew that since Melissa was the only girl, she might feel isolated."

"What happened next?"

"Melissa's father intercepted all the letters and sent them back, and after a few years I had just given up having contact with her. I wanted to go back and fulfill my promise, but how could I when Mr. Parks was so adamant about isolating his children from anyone or anything that had to do with their mother. So, I stayed away and as the children got older, I pondered almost incessantly how Melissa was doing. Then suddenly this book comes out, by Melissa Parks. I was floored, and I thought I was dreaming, because she was there, but was bigger than life. So, when you started here, I thought if anyone were to write stories about Missy, it would be you, because to me, you were like a favorite uncle to her and I thought maybe she could relate to you. I didn't want to trust myself to make contact with her, so I didn't, until that say she came into my office.

Bernard's Flashback

“Miss Parks?” Bernard spoke as he saw Missy sitting on the sofa in the lobby and was waiting.

Missy looked up and when she did not recognize the man, she nodded hesitantly.

“My name is Bernard Franklin, I’m the editor of ‘Expression’,” he introduced himself.

“Where’s Andy?” she asked.

“He’s out researching a story, I didn’t expect to see you here until this afternoon,” he began. “Would you come with me?”

She nodded and stood up.

As they made their way to the stairwell and made their way in the direction of the office, she kept her head somewhat down. Once they reached the office and he opened the door, she looked up and entered.

“Won’t you please sit down?” he offered.

“Thank you,” she said softly.

“You’re here early, can you tell me why?” he asked.

“I realized that I couldn’t meet Andy this afternoon, but that I had promised to meet with you, and I didn’t want to let anyone down,” she said softly.

“I appreciate that,” he said kindly as he took a tape recorder and turned it on. “May I tape this conversation?”

“I don’t mind, Mr. Franklin, but I cannot tell you about my work, I can only tell you that I have written many poems, but all the themes are the same. They are about belonging somewhere, whether it is with people who care, or an emotion of completeness. It is something which many people spend their entire lives trying to find, and many fail.”

“You speak very deeply,” he said.

“I speak only from what I have experienced. I lost my mother when I was five years old, I only remember her from a photograph I had found. Ever since then, I have felt empty and alone. My poetry is my way of dealing with that thing which I cannot understand, her death, the extent of that loss, and even why I am the person I became when she had not been a part of me.”

“Your poem, ‘Treasured Friend’, can you tell me what that is about?”

Missy sighed deeply before she began to speak. “’Treasured Friend’ is about an idea, of the most powerful and beautiful friendship that exists in the world. It does not necessarily have to be about a person, it can be merely be an idea or a wish. When you read it, what do you think about?”

“I suppose I think about trying to be not just a father, but also a friend to my son,” he said.

“Then the meaning behind is special, right?” she asked and once he nodded she continued. “If I can write a story using poetry, and I can tell people about an idea I have, then surely as a reader of that work, it will hold some meaning to you, and even though you have simply read my words, these words will possess a power all their own. In your interpretation the beauty will always remain, because you’re a special person and you have declared that meaning for yourself. So what does it matter what I have to say about it?”

Franklin was taken aback by her words. “Our readers are curious about what your meaning behind it is.”

“I will tell you this,” she began. “My meaning is about a friendship, one of the powerful and moving friendships that anyone could ever have. I will not speak of who this friend is, because it is only significant to me, but imagine the friend in your life who is more important than even yourself, and you will see that this friend is an honor and a gift from the heavens.”

“You’re speaking in symbolism,” he said.

“Is poetry not made up of symbols and hidden images?” she asked.

He smiled, “yes, I suppose you are right.”

“Then you must accept this as the answer to your question,” she said softly.

Franklin turned the tape recorder off. “I can understand why Hudson, was so taken aback by your words, you do leave people with a lot of food for thought.”

“Thank you,” she said and stood up. “Do you have anymore questions for me?”

“No, I think any questions I may have had, I have forgotten,” he said smiling. He stood up and came around the desk as she was walking towards the door. He extended his hand to her. “I will have Hudson transcribe this and he will bring you a copy of it before it goes to print.”

“Thank you, Mr. Franklin,” she said softly. “I appreciate that.”

“Thank you, Miss Parks,” he smiled, “and I will inform Mr. Hudson of your visit as soon as I see him, and will let him know that you are unable to meet with him this afternoon.”

Bernard's Flashback End

As he finished speaking, he reached across the desk and took a copy of Missy's book and opened it. "Monica, you know Missy wrote a lot of poetry, probably more than what's in here, but the depth of her writing touches me, and the pain she has experienced, is so real. Meeting her just once had such an impact on me, but when I read her poetry, I realized how important the truth was. I realized that finding the truth was important, but living the truth was powerful."

Monica nodded. "Yes, it is, and now the two of you have a chance to rebuild your lives based solely on the truth. Your connection to Melissa is important, and the decisions you both make regarding the wee girl will have an impact on her."

Bernard opened the book and looked down at the text. "I always wondered who she wrote about when she wrote this poem. I saw Judith every time I would read it. She became more than my daughter, she became a friend."

Andy nodded as he began to read.

Treasured Friend

You walk with a beauty none can compare

With a heart ever steadfast it comforts those that are weak

Standing strong even when life is shadowed with gloom

You comfort and hold those as they drown in despair.

If the world could only see you, standing among them

They would surely see the splendor in your poetic soul

As you have seen the wonder that dwells in the heart of mankind

But yet, you remain sheltered in the shadows of a darkened night.

Are you real or are you a vision coming from my soul

Is your face merely an illusion created by my own fantasies?

Or are you as authentic as a rainbow or the bright setting sun

I whisper your name and look for your silhouette among the shadows.

You speak to me saying fear not, little one, I will protect you

For the storm outside will soon end and you will see the sun rise once again

But for now, just know that you are worthy of all the good that comes,

And no one possesses the power to take that away.

I look for you always, in the stars and sunshine

I whisper your name when I am lonely and afraid

My Aslan, I once called you, the images of one lonely child

But you were always there giving me the courage to hold on another day.

You reminded me always that in this world, the story is untold

Of knights on their stallions and books about kings

But of all the rare stories and the gifts I have seen

Nothing will outshine the beauty within you, my treasured friend.

As he finished reading, he smiled and nodded. "Missy taught me to face the truth, Dad, and I should have done before now. Will you forgive me?"

Bernard nodded, "yes, I forgive you, son, there was never any reason for you to ask me to seek forgiveness. You were only a child, Andy, and that is not something I can hold against you."

Seconds later, they glanced up and realized that Monica was now gone, and Bernard looked at his son. "I wonder where she went?"

"I think she fulfilled what she set out to do here," Andy said. "But, Dad, I think there's someone else who needs to hear this story."

"Who?"

"Missy."

Bernard laughed and smiled. "Let's take the rest of the day off, son, we have some catching up to do."

Andy smiled and nodded as the two of them left the office together.

~*~*~*~*~

At that moment, Catherine stood in front of the radio station where Travis worked. She held a slip of paper in her hand and when she reached the glass doors that led inside, she smiled weakly as she stepped inside, and walked across the lobby.

"Good morning," she said. "I need to see Travis Parks for a few minutes if that's OK."

The receptionist smiled, nodded, and picked up the phone. While she dialed the KLOM offices, she pointed in the direction of the lobby where Catherine could make herself comfortable and wait. She eventually went over to the sofa and sat down and reached for a magazine.

As she remembered the conversation she had had with Vincent the night before. For some reason, she could completely understand what was happening with Missy. In fact, she figured that it somehow things were going to lead up to it.

Catherine reached for a magazine and flipped through it, all the while waiting for her unannounced meeting with the young disc jockey.

Five minutes later, Travis came out of the elevator and smiled weakly as he came over to where she was waiting for him. "Hey, what are you doing here." He asked just causing her to look up from the magazine and eventually toss it back on the table. She stood up, her eyes seeking his.

"Tonight, you need to come to my apartment at seven. Missy will be there, and from what I have heard, she wants to see you, Travis," Catherine said softly.

"What about the reporters?" He asked, his voice filed with uncertainty.

"No, Travis, it's not about the pending case. There will not be any notification given for at least another week, maybe two. This is actually about a family reunion and nothing more. I think Missy misses you and today she will have to make the choice as to whether or not to come home with you or stays with those who have taken the guardianship over her."

"Would she really choose to stay with someone else over family?" He asked weakly, his voice filled with sadness, but for what reason, Catherine was unable to determine.

"I really don't have any idea as to what choices Missy will have to make, nor do I know how she will decide. All I do know is that she has expressed a wish to see you, and what she may have to say to you is probably of the utmost importance," Catherine said softly, her eyes earnest as she regarded him.

For his part, Travis nodded numbly, his thoughts immediately returning to what Tess had said the day before when she had revealed herself as an angel to him and they had worked out in the garden together. He shook his head all the while unable to comprehend what was happening in his life, or how it was Tess could have known what would happen, and that things in the wink of an eye could suddenly change.

"Catherine, do you believe in angels?" He finally managed to ask her, his voice filled with uncertainty.

She nodded. "Yes, I think I do," she smiled secretly but instead of elaborating on what he had just asked, she got up, wiped out the folds in her skirt, and turned to go. Before taking her leave, she turned back to face him. "Travis, don't worry about it, I think everything is going to be OK now. I'll see you tonight."

"OK, thanks Catherine, thanks for everything," he was all smiles as he walked back towards the elevator to ride back up to his workplace. As soon as the doors closed, he nodded and closed his eyes for a moment, his simple two word prayer drifted up to the heavens. "Thank you!"

At that moment, Tess appeared in the elevator. "He says, 'you're welcome'."

Travis looked at her. "Tess, did you know about this?"

The angel nodded. "Yes, I did, and now you will have the chance to really make some decisions not only for yourself, but also for that little girl."

"This time, I'm going to make the right ones, I promise."

"I know you will, baby, and the Father knows that as well," Tess said as she reached over and squeezed his shoulder. When the elevator stopped on his floor, he glanced over and realized that the angel was now gone, but with a new sense of determination, Travis Parks came out with a broad smile on his face and a new sense of determination to go to his little sister and truly have the courage to set things right.

~*~*~*~*~

Some twenty minutes after Catherine had met with Missy's brother, she sent word to Vincent through some of the helpers that Missy was needed at her apartment. When he received the news from Jacob and had read it, he folded it and cast it listlessly to one side.

As he sat and was writing in his journal, he suddenly was catapulted back to reality when he heard some commotion happening in the corridor just outside of his chamber. He could suddenly hear Jacob's voice, but also Missy's, and he got up from his chair and walked towards the entrance to his room and looked out to see his young friend standing in the doorway, Andrew was next to her.

Moment's later, Missy said his name and he reached out and touched her shoulder. "You can always come in," he said gently, all the while, there was a part of him that felt overwhelmingly bad about not going to her day before when she had fled from the hospital chamber with tears streaming down her face. He knew that she had been totally devastated by what had happened, but at that moment, he was at a loss as to what to say, so he remained silent as she came into the chamber, her hand now holding tightly to Andrew's.

Needless to say that when he saw that Andrew was accompanying the young girl, he regarded the angel with a sour expression, the mistrust evident in his eyes.

Ignoring the look that had crossed his face, Missy released Andrew's hand, went over to where he was now standing and reached up to rest a hand on his shoulder. "Vincent, is something wrong?"

"Why would something be wrong?" He asked softly. "I honestly thought that something had happened with you, and was concerned for you. After what happened, I wanted to come see you, but I thought maybe you needed some time to yourself."

"I guess I did, because now there's something really important that I need to talk to you about."

"Are you OK?" Vincent asked some moments later after his smoldering look in Andrew's direction had dissipated somewhat.

"Yes, I'm fine, just a little nervous is all."

"Why did he do something to you?" Vincent asked as he indicated Andrew, who was still standing silently in the chamber.

"No, Andrew is OK, he and I spent yesterday afternoon sorting out everything that had happened and I know that he didn't mean to hurt me," Missy said softly as Andrew nodded, the look that was still on the angel's face was marked with concern as to how Vincent was going to react to him.

"What are you still doing here?" He finally asked, his voice filled with suppressed anger.

"Andrew is my friend, Vincent, and I already told you that we managed to talk about what happened yesterday," she said all the while grasping for Andrew's hand. When the angel took her offered hand, she felt a strange feeling of strength engulf her and she looked up at him, her eyes filled with the innocent trust, which she felt for her new friend.

"You talked?" Vincent asked skeptically looking at Andrew, and shaking his head in profound disbelief. Something told him that she was telling him the truth, but at the same time, he could not get her painful expression out of his mind, and he just could not comprehend that Missy would be so trustworthy after being hurt to the degree that she had been.

As she tried without much success at shutting out the air of sarcasm in his voice, she tightened her hold on Andrew's hand, but looked towards him for some kind of help after hearing the biting words emerging from Vincent. "He doesn't believe me, Andrew," she whispered to him, and the angel nodded all the while, realizing the importance of resolving this misunderstanding.

"Vincent, Missy and I did speak to one another yesterday afternoon," Andrew finally said and these words caused Vincent to look at him with unsuppressed surprise.

"You can talk, then," Vincent said softly, his eyes not faltering. "Why didn't you speak before now?"

"The reason was because I was unable to speak for two days, I had lost my voice. I don't know why that was, or why I can talk now, but the fact remained that I was unable to speak then. As you know, I had gotten sick, and if it hadn't have been for Missy, I may have gotten sicker instead of better."

Vincent nodded, but instead of focusing his attention on Andrew, he eventually looked back over at Missy all the while opting to change the subject. "What is it that you wanted to talk to me about, Missy?" As he spoke the young girl had the distinct impression that the topic of Andrew's presence had been discussed to its conclusion.

"I want to go above and see my brother, Vincent. I want to see if there's a place in his life for me," Missy looked at him, her eyes pleading with him to understand. When he said nothing further, she continued, her voice filled with pain. "Please don't get me wrong, I love you and Father very much, but Father was right a few months ago when he said that I don't belong here. I guess he knew all along, but only took me in because he loved me. That means so much to me, and this decision is the hardest one I have ever made in my life, but I miss the sun so much. I also miss my brother, and I realize now that I want to try and find my place in the world and not feel as though I have to run away from my life all the time."

"I figured as much, Missy, and so did Father," he said softly. "We were waiting for you to come and tell us how you felt. I just received word that Catherine has already told your brother that you would be at her apartment tonight. I would suggest that you go back to your chamber and get ready to go above?"

In response to his words, Missy threw herself into his arms. "You're not mad at me?"

"No, Missy, I'm not," came his soft response.

"I thought you might be, and I was really scared to tell you how I felt about this. You know that I love you so much, but I'm homesick and am sometimes lonely here," Missy could feel the tears in her eyes as she spoke, but after a few moments, she found the courage and looked back into the eyes of her friend. "Vincent, I didn't want to have to choose between you and Travis, that would have been too hard for me to do."

Vincent nodded and smiled, "You shouldn't have to, not ever." After a few moments, he glanced back over towards where Andrew was standing and he nodded as though he understood something that he had not known before. "I think you found her yesterday, and you helped her, didn't you?"

"I did only what I could," Andrew said softly, but knowing that this was important for Vincent to know, he nodded. "Much of what I said to her, you and your father had also said."

"I am sorry that I assumed so much about you, it was unfair of me, but if you only knew how much this child means to me," Vincent began.

"I understand, Vincent and there is no reason for you to explain anything to me. I know that she means a great deal to you, but I want to assure you that I would do nothing to hurt her," Andrew said with the same gentility in his voice. "Anyway, as ironic as it may sound to you, I was not sent here to stalk her because of what she has written, but I was actually sent here to help her, just as you and your father are both here to help those who reside here."

Vincent nodded and looked at Andrew. "I believe you," he said softly, and Andrew nodded gratefully. "Will you take her above when the time comes? I have a very strange, almost uncanny, feeling that you can be trusted with her."

Missy looked at her angelic friend, and when he nodded, she smiled weakly and looked back over at Vincent. "If I ever move above, will I still be your friend, Vincent?"

"Yes, you will always be my friend, Missy." As he spoke, the man whom she had come to know as 'Father' appeared and was standing in the doorway to his son's chamber. He regarded them with sadness in his aged eyes upon hearing what Missy had said.

"Father, did you know about this?" Missy asked after a few moments had passed of silence and the young girl was trying to grasp onto what was happening. When she looked at him, she knew that she would probably be able to move above, perhaps even in a matter of hours.

The older man nodded and smiled down at her. "Yes, I did, my dear, and I know that you are going to be just fine, no matter where you go or what you choose, you will always have a place here, a sanctuary if ever you need it."

"Thank you, but that doesn't make this any easier," she said as Jacob opened his arms to her and she went over to hug him. As she did, the tears tumbled down over her cheeks. "I love you both so much and as weird as it sounds, it feels like another sad good-bye."

"We know you care, Missy," Jacob said softly as he leaned down and kissed her mass of brown hair, but when she didn't look up, he brushed his hand against her tearstained cheek, thus causing her to look up. "You know we only want what's best for you, don't you?"

The young girl nodded numbly as Jacob looked at Andrew and spoke, his voice soft. "I think you are very lucky to have a friend in this young lady, Andrew. Don't do anything else to harm that, as it would be a tragedy, and a friendship with Missy is a very special gift."

Looking down, he ruffled her hair and she held tightly to him, her face streaked with tears, but they were not there because she was saddened by what had happened, but because she was relieved that they both Jacob and Vincent understood how she felt, and it became the miracle she had prayed for, she would have the best of both worlds, just as she had wanted.

The Angel of Death nodded and smiled in response to Jacob's words. "I won't."

~*~*~*~*~

That evening, Missy was dressed in jeans and a sweatshirt, her first clothing from above in well over two weeks. She looked around her chamber and shook her head, her eyes filling with tears. "I don't know if I can do this," she whispered under her breath all the while not even expecting to receive any sort of answer.

"Hey, you know you can," Jamie's voice emerged and Missy eventually looked up to see her best friend from the tunnels standing in the doorway.

"Jamie, I'm sorry," Missy whispered feeling the sadness of having to say good-bye to someone who had come to mean so much to her over the course of the time she had been in the tunnels.

"What for?" Jamie asked.

"Because I haven't been around and I was afraid that you would think that I had neglected you," she said softly.

"Nah, I was spending more time with Mouse, and Pascal has been teaching me tunnel signals. You know how it is, I have managed to remain well entertained these past few days, and it sounds like you have enough to tend to," Jamie smiled weakly. "I know that if you go back above, that you'll make the best of it, and besides, we're always going to be friends, right?"

Missy nodded as Jamie gave her a haphazard hug and left the chamber, thus leaving her alone. She looked down at her watch and realized that it was about 6:30. She shook her head as someone else came into the chamber.

"Melissa," Andrew spoke using her given name from the doorway and once she heard his gentle voice, she turned around and looked into his sparkling green eyes.

"Is it time?" She asked softly as she looked at the bed that had been hers while she had resided below. The angel could see that she was increasingly feeling torn between what she had to do and the guilt she had in going through with it.

"Come over here and sit down, we can go above in a few minutes," Andrew said gently as he pulled out his golden pocket watch, opened the cover and looked at it before closing it and returning it to his pocket.

Missy did as he said and once she was sitting next to him on the bed, she stared down at the ground. "Andrew, what if Travis doesn't want me?"

"Vincent said that Travis wanted to see you. I think you should believe his words, Missy, he wouldn't lie to you, in fact, I think this is just as hard for him as it is for you," Andrew began. "Both Vincent and Jacob know that you have to find the courage inside to face all these things. They know you can, and God knows you can too."

"I honestly didn't think it would be this hard to leave here, but it is and I don't know if I have the strength to do it now. I don't even know if I want to try," she said softly.

Andrew nodded, his eyes shining brightly as he spoke. "I know, but think of it this way, it will be a new beginning for you." He released her hand and wrapped a comforting arm around her. "Come on, it's time, and this time, taking you home will be a happy thing for me to do. You may be saddened by it now, because of having to leave Jacob and Vincent behind, but a friendship doesn't end the moment you leave, it remains if it is meant to be."

Missy nodded numbly. "Andrew, what did you mean when you said taking me home was going to be a happy thing for you to do? I don't understand," she whispered as she felt the tears streaming from beneath her eyes.

"I'm usually not sent for cases like this, I usually come to be someone's Angel of Death, Missy. Like I told you yesterday, I was there with your mother the day she went to Heaven," he said softly as he smiled weakly at her. "Death is not the end of life, but it is sad when I have to take someone home who is young, or not wishing to leave their family behind. Your mother was one such person."

"Tell me about her?" She pleaded with him as she reached over and pulled on the sleeve of his jacket.

"I will someday, but right now, I think it is time for us to go. Are you ready?" He smiled gently at her.

Missy nodded as she got up off the bed and took his hand. "Andrew, would you one day take me to Heaven?"

"I will do so if that is what you wish, but I hope that that won't happen for a long, long time," he smiled gently at her.

"OK, so that means, I shouldn't step out in front of a bus, or jump out of an airplane without a parachute, or eat poisoned mushrooms, at least not before I turn eighty," with shining eyes she left the chamber with him, but not before grabbing the picture of her mother, the paper rose, and the angel figurine she had salvaged of her mother's belongings.

He chuckled gently, but looked at her and spoke, his voice soft. "You have a wonderful sense of humor, Missy." As his laugher ended, he looked earnestly at her. When she did not even smile or seem to acknowledge his words, he reached over and placed a gentle hand on her shoulder. "Are you OK?"

"Saying good-bye to Vincent and Father was hard. It feels so final," she whispered.

"You didn't say good-bye, Missy, you said, 'see you later,' and I am absolutely certain that you will see them both and very soon. A friendship does not end just because the people who share it live in two different places," Andrew said smiling as he led her towards the light at the end of the tunnel, which announced them as reaching basement of Catherine's building.

~*~*~*~*~

Travis arrived at that moment at Catherine's front door, and it was obvious that he was nervous. As he rang the bell, he was wiping the sweat from his hands. Taking a deep breath, he tried to force a smile when the door eventually opened.

"Hello, Catherine," his voice emerged a squeak rather than coming out in the usual cadence. "I mean; hi."

"It's OK, come on in, they're not here yet. Would you like something to drink or maybe a piece of angel food cake? I picked some up this afternoon when I came home from work. I figured that you might like something."

"I honestly don't think I could keep anything down," he said softly.

As he spoke the doorbell rang, and he looked at Catherine. She reached over and took his hand. "Listen to me, Travis. I know you're nervous, but this is your sister, and no matter what happens tonight, she's going to know that you care, and that's the greatest treasure you could give her. You're not looking at the poet, you're looking at a little girl who needs you more than anything else in the world. OK?"

He nodded and she went to open the door. Standing on the other side was Andrew and Missy. She smiled at the two of them and backed away from the door so they could come in.

"Hi, I'm Catherine Chandler," she said softly as she looked at Andrew and extended her hand.

He took it and smiled. "My name is Andrew."

"Is he here, Catherine?" Missy asked softly.

"Yes, he is and it looks as though he is just as nervous as you are," she said and once the two of them had cone into the apartment she closed the door.

Nervously, Missy came into the room where her brother sat, but after a few moments, she hung back and looked at Andrew. "I don't know what to say."

"You'll know, the words will come," he said gently. "Now, go to him."

Nodding, she walked into the room. "H-hi, Travis."

He stood up and when he saw his sister for the first time in weeks, he could feel tears in his eyes, and he looked despondently at her, his voice cracking as he spoke. "Missy, I'm so sorry." He went over to her and wrapped her in his arms, by this time, the tears were unconsciously streaming from beneath his eyes and he eventually began to weep softly in the arms of his little sister.

"It's OK, I should have told you when you left how I felt," her words emerged and she buried her face against his chest. "I missed you Travis, I wanted to stay with you, but I was scared."

"I know, I was too, but it's funny, what happened to me," he said softly. "I met an angel. You know Mom used to talk all the time about angels, and how they would always show up at the most difficult times in our lives. I know that she was telling the truth."

"You'll have to tell me about her, I don't remember very much, I just know that she wasn't alone when she died. There was someone with her," Missy turned around in the hopes that Andrew would still be in the room, but when she noticed that the angel was gone, she wiped a hand over her face. "Andrew, where are you?"

"He gave me this and told me that he had to go, Missy," Catherine said softly and handed her young friend an envelope.

Missy accepted it and carefully, she opened it. Inside was the photograph of her mother that Mouse had tried to repair for her. Unlike the uneven paper and glue that was on the other photo, this one was completely whole, the smiling face of her mother looking back at her. When she turned it over, she could read the words in Andrew's flowing script. "Your Father in Heaven, the angels, and your mother will always be in Heaven watching over you,' It was signed: 'With love, Andrew.'

"I didn't even get to say good-bye," she whispered.

"Maybe you'll see him again, Missy, a friend doesn't disappear forever, they are always with you even if only in spirit," Travis said softly and looked at her. "Listen, I got a new place, well, you unknowingly helped with that, but it's empty without you, and I would really like it if you would come and live there. I know that I still have to work, and you have school, but we'll have time to catch up, and really get to know each other." He reached over and picked up the book of poems from off the table and showed it to her. "I finally read this, and I loved it."

"Really?" Missy looked up at him.

"Yeah, really," he smiled and wrapped her in his arms. "You still haven't told me if you want to come home."

Missy nodded as the doorbell rang once again and Catherine left the two of them in the living room to go and answer it. As she did, she was surprised to see Andy standing on the other side.

"Catherine, I'm sorry to bother you, but I really needed to see you," he said as she invited him inside. Once in the room, his voice trailed off when he saw Missy and Travis holding each other in the living room. "I don't believe it."

"Hey Andy," Missy looked up to see her friend standing in the room. "I didn't know you were going to be here."

"It looks like I came right into a family reunion," Andy said softly.

"Yeah, this is my brother, Travis."

"Hi, I'm Andy Hudson, I met your sister a few weeks ago," he began.

Travis nodded and once they had all sat down, Andy began to tell them what had happened that morning when he had gone to see the editor. "Missy, I found out who my father was."

"Who is it?"

"Do you remember when you met Bernard Franklin?" He asked. "It was about two weeks ago."

"I remember him, he was the editor of the magazine you work for."

"You're a reporter?" Travis asked.

"He's my friend, Travis. Andy and I have been friends since he came to talk to me some time after the book was released." Missy began.

"Yes, and Andy has been trying to get the human side of this story known by helping others see that Missy is a person who should be heard and not harassed," Catherine said softly.

"Sorry, I just am a little overprotective," Travis said softly.

Andy nodded. "I have something important to tell you both. It's about my father, you see, as weird as it sounds, he knew your mother, because he raised her after your grandmother died."

"He knew my mom?" Missy looked at him in profound disbelief. "Andy, is this true, Mr. Franklin knew her?"

Andy reached over and touched her shoulder. "He knew her, and he wanted to help you after she died, Missy. I don't know how this entire story came out, but from what he told me today, your mother asked him to promise her a few things and so he did."

"Why didn't we ever know about this?" Travis asked.

"Your father didn't want you to know about it, Travis. He kept everything secret from you. I don't know why, I mean, I walked into the editor's office today as an employee and walked out a son. I still have to tell the man who raised me the truth, and I don't know how, but I do know that the 'truth does set you free'. Somehow, I will be able to do it and will feel a better person for it."

As he spoke, the three angels were standing in the room, all three of them in angelic form as their three assignments came together and realized that in many ways, they were family.

"Tess, are we finished?" Monica asked.

"Not just yet, but the three of them are going to be OK now, they have found each other and chances are, they will not let go of each other any time soon," Tess said softly.

"Will I still be able to meet Missy?" Monica asked softly as she watched the young girl hugging her brother and friend.

"Yes, you will, because there are still a few loose ends that need tending to before we move on. We will all get to see them before we leave as I am sure that Andrew wants to say a proper good-bye."

Andrew smiled weakly, but nodded as he watched the young girl who over the course of this assignment proved herself to be much more than another case for him, but she had proven herself to be a true friend.

Epilogue

It was three days later when Andy, Travis and Missy walked into the large building, where Andy worked. As they came inside, a flock of reporters ran over to them. "Miss Parks, where did you go?" Was the first question that emerged from them and for the first time since she had moved in with her brother; Missy find the courage to turn around, smile, and face them, as well as their questions.

"I went away and collected my thoughts," she said softly.

"When's your next book coming out?" Another reporter asked.

"I spoke with the publisher two days ago and they have been asking me to do a book of inspirational poetry, and that will be coming out early next year," she said.

"You didn't tell me that," Travis said looking at his sister.

"You were at work," Missy said and laughed. "You should hear him, he's a disc jockey at KLOM."

"Miss Parks, what is your book going to be called?"

"I haven't decided yet, but will probably call it 'Angelic Whispers'. I realized a few days ago how much my mother liked stories and stuff about angels, so I figured that this would be the best idea for a new project as well as a way to honor her. While I was away, I did an entire notebook of poetry for it, so we'll have to see how it goes."

"How do you feel about the fact that two reporters may stand trial for stalking you?" One of the other reporters asked.

"I feel sorry for them, actually," she began. "If people were friendly when they came over to me and were actually interested in what I had to say as opposed to getting the most scandalous story they can find, then they might have gotten something worth printing," she shrugged her shoulders but smiled somewhat impishly.

"What would you like the people of New York to know about you?" A final reporter asked.

"That I'm just like you, I have moments when I am happy, or when I'm sad, but also when I need my space to grieve and cope. That was why I left, it wasn't because of scandal or anything that had been printed, but because I needed to find peace."

"Did you?"

"I think it's safe to say that we all did," she smiled and once she smiled weakly at them, she went with Travis and Andy inside the building.

Once they made their way upstairs, the doors opened and they went down the hall in the direction of Bernard's office. As they reached the door, Travis knocked and the door opened and they went inside.

Bernard Franklin was smiling when his eyes met those of Missy and when he saw that she was there with Travis, he nodded, all the while, knowing that he could finally fulfill the promise he had made once upon a time to Judith Parks..

"Hi," Missy said softly as she looked up and in the gray eyes of the editor.

"Missy, my son told me that you know the truth now, but I wanted to see you and see if you're doing OK, and finally fulfill my promise that I made to your mother."

"I can't believe you knew her," the young girl said softly as she went over and sat down on the plush sofa next to the man. As she did, he pulled out a photo album and opened it.

"Maybe you both should see this," Bernard said softly and Travis, too, came over to where his sister and the editor were now seated. As they spent the afternoon looking at pictures, none of them noticed that Andy had slipped out of the room and had gone to see Jacob and Vincent. Now was the time to tell the truth, and though he was scared, he felt calm as he stepped into the elevator.

~*~*~*~*~

"I can't believe you lied to us," Jacob's voice was filled with frustration as Andy sat in his chamber nearly an hour later.

"I know I made a mistake Father, but I was only six," Andy said as Monica appeared in the chamber and was watching this scene take place in angelic form. None of the humans could see her, but she watched as Andy stood his ground, and nodded as he managed to face the truth. "I thought something in my life was lacking, the love that you and Vincent always gave me, and I know that what I did was wrong, not just to you, but also to Bernard Franklin, my dad. He forgave me, so all I ask is, can you?"

Jacob nodded as he looked at Andy. "I can, and I know that this was hard for you, but tell me why you decided to tell us the truth now?"

"Missy, she inspired me to tell you what had happened, and why. She has always shown so much courage and strength, and I admired that in her. Today, we were in front of the building for the literary journal, and she faced the reporters with more strength and charisma than anyone I had seen in years. She maintained the idea that everything would be fine, and that the truth would come out and how people responded to that was purely up to them."

Jacob rubbed his chin as Vincent stood up and stretched. He had heard much of what Andy had said, but had not responded, instead he nodded as though he completely understood what Andy had said.

"I'm sorry I lied, it wasn't because I wanted to, it was because I was scared that you would see me as being as inadequate as I saw myself. I carried this around for years, not knowing what I would say or do if you found out what had really happened. This is really a hard pill to swallow. Then I kept hearing this voice in my head and it said 'the truth will set you free'. It was like a whisper from an angel, and she was telling me that no matter what happened in the past or future, the truth would always exist and it would be my choice as to how I cope with it."

Jacob nodded and smiled. "I think you are right, Andy."

"Then you're still my family?" Andy asked.

Vincent nodded. "Yes, we are your family."

As the tears streamed from beneath Andy Hudson's eyes, he glanced skyward, but then after a few moments, stood up. "Father, I'll see you when I get some time off for vacation. It's been a long time since we played a game of chess."

Jacob's eyes brightened, "I welcome a worthy adversary."

"One who is not as practiced in the game as Vincent, you mean," Andy said and smiled as he left the chamber.

Vincent smiled. "I think Andy knows you very well, Father."

Jacob nodded, there was much truth in the words of his son.

~*~*~*~*~

Outside, Andy made his way through the tunnels until he reached the entrance that led out into Central Park. As he came out, he smiled as the bright sunshine encompassed him. When he looked up, he could see that Monica was now walking towards him, her eyes bright as she regarded him.

"Monica, what are you doing out here?" He asked as he approached her, and when he reached her, he smiled.

"I wanted to tell you something, Andy," Monica said softly. "The truth did set you free, did it not?"

"It was you, wasn't it?" He asked softly as he regarded her. "The voices I kept hearing in my mind were actually coming from you."

Monica nodded. "God's voice is going to be heard regardless of what you do, Andy. Through your finding the truth, you helped to bring two families together, and you found a place above where you belonged."

"You know about…" his voice trailed and she nodded.

"I'm an angel, Andy, and yes, I know about the tunnels, about Jacob Wells, and Vincent. God didn't send me here to ruin the loving relationship you share with them, He sent me here because a lie, no matter how small, was standing the way of you sharing a relationship with these two wonderful people."

"He knows about them, He knows that Vincent…"

"God does not judge a man based on how he looks, Andy, He sees the beauty in all of His creations. You, Jacob, and Vincent are all three creations of the Father. In His eyes, you are precious and beautiful."

"He's not mad at me?"

Monica shook her head and rested a gentle hand on Andy's shoulder. "God is not angry when one of His children takes a wrong turn, or ends of losing their way, He calls out to you in every possible way saying 'here I Am. I Am the strength when you are weak, I Am the light when there is darkness, I Am peace when there is chaos, and I Am forgiveness when there is blame.' It is but your choice as to how you accept that. His voice will awaken you, His love will rejuvenate you. His mercy will lift you higher than you ever imagine ever being taken. It is His gift to you, and all He asks is that you accept it."

Andy nodded and looked at her. "Thank you, Monica."

"Don't thank me, thank the one who sent me," she smiled and within seconds, she was gone and Andy stood staring out at the vastness of the park.

~*~*~*~*~

That same evening, Missy was sitting in the apartment and was writing in the notebook she kept her poetry in. As she did, a poem fell from the book and landed on the floor.

Leaning over, she retrieved the paper and looked down at the writing as fresh tears streamed from beneath her eyes and she read the poem aloud.

I remember you once upon a time

It was a story set in motion in the recesses of my heart

I had seen you standing next to me, no words had been spoken

But as the love emanated from you, it filled my spirit with hope.

It was as though it blanketed me like light from a distant star

You were that dream awakening the depth of my heart

A memory that I would never forget, a friend I will always love

Above all else, you were my angel who reminded me of God.

Whenever I am sad or feeling less than beautiful

I remember how you held me, and spoke comfort to my soul

Your kind eyes sparkled whenever you smiled

A beautiful soft manner, which spoke volumes without saying a word

But alas this is something others may not have understood

Yet, if they were to meet you, they would surely understand

Just how inspiring and compassionate you are

A friend, an angel, an expression of God's greatness.

"That's beautiful, Missy," Andrew's voice emerged and she turned around to see him standing in the living room. Next to him, Tess and Monica stood and she smiled when she saw the two other angels standing with her dear friend.

"You're here," she whispered, as the tears streamed from beneath her eyes and she stood up.

"My friends and I are moving on now, Missy, and we came to say good-bye," Andrew said smiling gently.

"I know that it's wrong of me to wish that you could stay, but I do," she said softly.

"We know you do, baby, but now you have what you need, and God needs for us to move on," Tess said softly as she came over and rested her hand on the shoulder of the young girl. "Monica, Andrew, and I were sent here to help you, and through two young men, we were able to do so. Today, you have found your place in the world, Melissa."

She nodded as she acknowledged the truth in the words. She looked at Monica and Tess. "Thank you for helping all of us."

Monica smiled. "Thank you for making our work a wee bit easier."

"I don't understand," Missy said softly.

"Andrew will explain, come on Miss Wings, it's time to go. We'll be in the car, Angel Boy," Tess said as she and Monica left the apartment and went outside.

Once they were gone, Missy looked at him as she took the poem out of the notebook and extended it to him.

"You want to give this to me?" He asked softly.

"Yes, maybe one day you can show it to my mom," Missy said sadly.

"Missy, I know that saying good-bye is not easy, but one day, when you least expect it, you will see us again. It will happen because I made a promise to you some time ago and want to come back to see you so that I can tell you about it." Andrew reached out and took her hands in his and squeezed them gently. "I want you to know that I believe that you are a very brave and courageous child. I have learned a great deal from you."

"How can an angel learn anything from me?" She asked weakly as she felt the tears streaming from beneath her eyes.

Andrew looked at her and smiled. "You showed yourself as friend, you entertained an angel unaware, but you did more than just entertain, you gave of yourself without knowing, and regardless of where your poetry takes you, you will always be Missy. You won't forget, you will never forget what brought you to this point. But, what you did for me, was you allowed yourself to look beyond appearances and see what is inside."

Missy shrugged her shoulders. "I was an outcast once, I didn't have any friends, I was called a 'sissy' and treated like I was nothing. I can't do to others what was done to me…" her voice trailed off.

"You listened to the whispers of the Father in your spirit, and Missy, He knows you heeded His words, and no matter what happens, don't ever forget that God loves you, He cares for you even when other people stop caring."

Missy nodded without saying anything for some moments, she went over to him and wrapped her arms around him in a back breaking embrace. "I'll remember, Andrew." She eventually said, the word stuck in her throat, but she finally managed to get it out.

Andrew smiled as he ruffled her hair. "I have to go."

"I hate good-byes," Missy whispered.

"Then just say, 'see you later'," he smiled as he tucked the poem away that she had given to him and walked towards the door. "Incidentally, I think your new book has a wonderful title."

"You knew about that?" She asked softly.

Andrew smiled and winked at her. "You'd be surprised at how much I know."

Missy smiled and laughed softly as he walked outside and closed the door. As soon as he was gone, she glanced over and could see that a white dove was standing in the windowsill of her and Travis' living room. When it finally flew away, she nodded, everything was going to be OK, because she had finally come home.

Fin

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