She blinked into the darkness, curling her fists around the covers and drawing them up against her chest. "Who's there?" Her voice was raw, and the words came out as a harsh whisper. The room was still for a moment. Moonlight streaming in the window and pooled on the floor, rippling every now and then as a bird fluttered past, or the wind set the tendrils of an evergreen swaying.

Then a man's silhouette appeared in that moonlight. Iliana's breath caught, but she couldn't quite muster enough caring to be truly afraid. The best she managed was faintly curious. "What do you want?" she asked dully.

"What do you want?" he returned, his voice rough and deep, but quiet enough not to be heard outside their--no, just her now--room. It was the kind of voice, she thought, that would rumble like a coming storm when he was angry. He wasn't, now.

The thought was gone in an instant as apathy retook her. "I want my sister back," she told him, a spark of her own anger and hurt coloring her tone. "But I suppose you can't give me that, so what do you want?"

"You're right," he answered, and there was the faintest hint of rumbling anger in his voice. Anger, and perhaps...grief, she thought, but that didn't make any sense. "I can't give you that. Even if I could, I'm not sure I'd bring her back to this."

"No," Iliana slumped back against her pillows. "But I'm selfish enough to want her back anyway." Tears flooded her eyes and she blinked hard, looking away. Her throat closed, and she couldn't speak. She didn't want to. Why should she share all this with a stranger?

He came to sit on the end of her bed, and Iliana let him, completely unafraid. At first she thought it was only that she didn't care. If he killed her, it wouldn't matter. At least she'd be with Elena again, and away from all this. But when he took her hand, gently although a little gruffly, she knew better. A hazy, black-and-white memory, watered down with time, drifted slowly back to her. "You're--are you Uncle Par?"

"Yes," he told her quietly.

"Daddy doesn't like you," Iliana whispered, drawing back just slightly. Not out of fear of him, but of something esle. Even in the dim light, she could see his jaw tighten and his eyebrows draw down.

"I don't like him either," he rumbled. "At least I am honest in my crimes."

Iliana looked at him, still caught in her despair. "What do you want?" she demanded a third time. "If Daddy finds you here--"

"I almost hope he does," Par growled, and Iliana shrank back further. He noticed this, and sighed through his teeth. "I'm not good at this," he said gruffly. "I'm not a man who minces words. I've come to take you away from this place, if you want to go." He reached out and stroked her silver-streaked hair almost thoughtfully, as if he were talking to himself. "I know you don't know me, and you have no reason to trust me. I'm sure your father has told you a number of things about me that were less than complimentary. I am not a family man in any sense of the word, and I've no idea what it's like to raise a daughter." He met her gaze steadily. "But I have watched you, and your mother, sister, and brother. I am sorry that I did not see fit to take action in time to prevent Elena's--" He stopped and looked down for a moment.

"Suicide," Iliana provided the word softly. It was the first time she'd said it. It almost broke her.

Par squeezed her hand and continued. "I don't know anything about raising children. But I do know that what he has done to you has been wrong. And it was wrong of me to ignore it for this long. I...cannot offer you an easier life. I can't promise you won't have to be afraid anymore. I can't promise much, in essense. But if you wish to leave, I will take you with me."

"You're a thief," Iliana said quietly, remembering.

"I am more than that," he told her solemnly.

"Will I have to be a thief too?"

"Yes," Par nodded. "And if you go with me, you can never come back."

"What about Marcus?" Iliana looked at the wall between her room and her brother's.

"Marcus is becoming a man, and finally gaining some respect in your father's eyes. He would not come with us, and he will try to stop us if we wake him."

"What if I don't want to go?" Iliana's voice trembled slightly. It was a hard choice for a twelve-year-old.

"Then I will leave, and you won't see me again."

"You'll still be watching?"

"Yes. But I can't protect you from him unless I take you away."

Iliana touched the bruise on her face. Remembered all the others she'd gotten. Remembered Elena's.

"I won't ever see any of them again," she said with quiet certainty, looking up at him a moment before her eyes skittered away again.

"No. It's one of many promises you'll have to make if you come with me. I can't explain everything to you now. But you won't see Marcus, or your mother, or anyone one esle, ever again."

Iliana was silent for a long moment. Then she drew the covers back and stood on shaky legs. "I'll pack."

"Pack light," he advised her. "Nothing more than you can carry, and nothing that isn't absolutely necessary. I'll wait in the hall."

He slipped out the door and closed it silently behind him.

A few moments later, Iliana joined him. She had a bag thrown over one shoulder and a violin case in one hand. "I know you said only what was necessary," she murmurred, lowering her gaze. Her hair fell across her face, hiding her eyes from view. "But--"

He put a large hand--gently--on her head and stopped her. "Let's go." She nodded, and shyly slipped her slender hand in his. He looked rather surprised, but he kept a firm grip on her hand and started to lead her out.

She froze, staring at the bathroom door. Par stopped and looked at her. Iliana's blue eyes were pleading. "Please...can't we go a different way?" She looked back at the door, and all she could see was the grey hand clutching the bottle, and the white pills scattered across the floor. She fought the urge to scream, the way she had then. Elena...

Par clamped an iron hand on her shoulder and steered her away.

"Where are we going?" Iliana asked faintly when they got outside.

"Somewhere we won't be found," he answered. "But not home yet. There are some things I need to teach you before we can go there."

"Okay," she nodded and looked out over the snow covered street. "I'm ready."