Her eyes opened, slowly, adjusting to the light that was unfamiliar in her once comatized world.

“Cordy? Are you. . .?”

She smiled gently at the sight of the sleep tousled boy sitting near her. And at the love shining in his eyes. Xander rushed to her side, enfolding her gently in a hug, kissing her cheeks over and over.

“You’re. . .okay. . .”

“Yes. . .” she croaked out, returning the kisses.

And unseen, observing, was a redhead. One who’s pain was spelled out on her face. She turned away, tears on her cheeks.

“No. . .”

And Willow ran from the hospital, not knowing what to do, where to go.

*****

Angel sat in his apartment, alone.

*Her face.*

He picked up a rock, large, tough granite. He had found it in the alley near the Bronze.

*Kathryne. . .*

Squeezing the rock, he stared at nothing.

And was utterly nonplused at the sight of the rock powder sifting to the floor.

*****

The letter, crudely written on cheap paper, fell to the floor. She stood, wandering over to the window. Adjusting the folds of her dress, she sighed. She touched the window glass, looking out onto the night landscape, dark blue eyes misty with memory. Her white glove barely smudged the surface. Turning, she reached for the bell to call service.

When the servant walked in, she smiled. “Yes, please send a telegram to the elder of the Romani clan, the one residing in Transylvania.”

The servant pulled out a pad, prepared for her dictation.

“Thank you. Stop. I’ll report any further developments. Stop. He will be punished for what he has done. Stop. Your friend, Kathryne. Stop. End.”

The servant smiled, rushing out the door.

Kathryne smiled vaguely, and then sat back, waiting for the sun to rise.