‘Do I? Do I only barely know you?’ Marina glanced deeply at the girl’s irises, tried to bring back that initial, absolute connection they had felt in the first second they’d been together.

‘You’ll be all right with us.’ Jenny reassured Alba, patted her in the forearms as she relaxed a notch. ‘Let’s go. You can finish your meal, get some color back in your cheeks.’

‘And then have a nice, warm bath as Belinda prepares a room for you.’ Marina added, ushered her back the way they’d come.

‘How much will I have to pay for rent?’ the teen asked meekly as she turned her back on the house where she’d grown up.

‘Rent?! No, you’re my special, permanent guest and guests don’t pay rent. This is not up to discussion as well.’

The girl sighed, frustrated, and walked in the middle of the two women in complete silence.

The front door of the Ferrers’ Mansion opened slowly and three figures stepped inside. They had sauntered wrapped around their own thoughts and no word had been said. It hadn’t been an uncomfortable experience, since it had perfectly fit the girl’s frame of mind.

In the hall, Marina cupped Alba’s face with both hands, smiled in understand ness. ‘Please, don’t be sad.’     

‘I’m not sad.’ The teen stated, lifted her thin shoulders. ‘I already knew they’d do this.’

‘Even though they’re your parents?’ Jenny inquired, squeezing Alba’s hands. She would not lose the touching competition to the Italian.

‘And? This doesn’t make them any different from other human beings. I learned at a young age that it is stupid to have expectations on other people, no matter who they are.’

‘That’s cold.’

‘I know, but it makes life more bearable. You won’t get mad when someone does something behind your back, for one.’ She beamed, still listless, moving away from the two women. ‘But that only helps when no one else cares about you. The two of you are beyond my logic.’ She caught a hand from each of them.          ‘And I am grateful for everything that you’ve done for me. Thank you.’

‘It’s our pleasure.’ Marina replied, took them towards the dining room.

Her friends were still there, plates left untouched, while her husband sipped the remnants of his wine. The Americans jumped to their feet, circled the newcomers. Mr. Ferrer’s mouth hung agape in surprise, wine tickling down his chin.