Michelle slipped in the front door and pocketed her keys. The house was silent, the entities and ghosts of deamons no longer haunted the halls of the looming house.

With a sigh and a faint smile, she headed for the kitchen. She had been stood up. Again. Oh well.

Clattering and puttering around the kitchen made her feel better and so she whipped up a late night dinner. She hoped Mr. Cheffie wouldn't mind her raiding his gourmet cupboard.

Settling in to eat her Bistro banquet at the butcher block at the end of the kitchen, she scanned the house for signs of her sister. Hmm...yes, there she was. Sleeping in her room, but there was someone with her. Who was that woman? Was it the one Mara had talked so much about, and had been crying buckets of tears over? She hoped so.

Well, off to bed.

Michelle sat, alone. She wept again, missing her sister more than ever. They had just found each other again, it seemed, when she was torn from Michelle's life again. Would she ever be the same?

((PLEASE come back, Michelle!!!))