Harley:

"Hey wake up, we're almost home," The voice pulls me from my fitful sleep. I open my eyes tiredly, the warmth of the air-conditioning in the vehicle makes me want to fall back asleep. Determined to stay awake I stretch my arms above my head and break into a coughing fit when I take a deep breath.

"That cough is getting worse," The werecat behind the wheel comments. I look his way as I search my mind for his name ... Justin, yes that is what he said.

"Very far to go?" I ask as I peer out the windscreen at the road that is illuminated by the headlights in the gloomy late afternoon dusk. Even as I ask the question I glance out the side window and spot lights from several different buildings. I don't need to hear the answer that comes from him as I hear my heartbeat pick up it's pace and feel excitement begin building in my stomach. There's something about the place that feels so familiar.

My gaze darts from building to building and I grasp my seatbelt in my left hand while my right hand seeks the buckle. The windscreen wipers annoy me with the way they allow a thick scattering of misty rain that clouds my vision to cover the screen before moving to wipe it away. The rain is heavy enough to need the wipers on intermittently but not enough for the slow setting. I can feel my heart thudding hard in my chest and the kitt in my womb rolls over and stretches as if protesting the surge of adrenaline that must be racing through my blood.

As soon as Justin stops the vehicle I am freeing myself from the seat belt and reaching for the door handle. Rain comes in as the door opens and I automatically pull the hood on my jacket up and over my head to give me as much protection as possible. I hear Justin calling out behind me but his words are lost beneath the buzz in my ears as I push the door shut behind me. I stare at the building door as I approach quickly, part of me is aware of Justin's calling me. The sound of his door opening, while gravel crunches beneath my feet and the metallic clang as the car door shuts behind him. Inside the faint sounds of music and laughter call me, beckoning me and I reach for the door handle.

Warmth and laughter and something else envelope me as I step inside. Rich smells hit me, strange and yet familiar. I can make out individual voices and my heart leaps into my throat.

"Come back here immediately!" An angry male voice calls somewhere ahead of me and I hear running footsteps.

"My do her candle! Her candle!" A childish voice shouts sounding desperately unhappy. The sound wrenches at me and I move forward. A small form hurtles around a corner ahead of me and comes to a sudden stop. For a moment we stare at each other and I feel tears well in my eyes as my heart lurches painfully. Part of my mind registers the sound of movement both ahead of me and behind me and then there is a loudly sobbing little whirlwind charging at me. A box of matches and a single candle go flying.

"That is it! You are in serious trouble young man! I am going to dust your britches good and proper!" The voice sends shivers through me as I extend my left hand towards the small fury of movement. In my heart I know we have done this so many times before. The way he grasps my hand and I lift my hand as I curl my elbow, his feet finding their grip as he climbs up my leg and side. His strong arms are flung around my neck and I close both arms around him as great shudders shake his body. I hug him close and turn my head as I breathe in the aroma of little boy.

"What the ..." The words trail off as I turn so my body is between the large form stalking up the narrow space towards us and the small body clinging to me.

"You will not lay a hand on this child! How dare you threaten him!" I snarl viciously. "You are nothing but a huge over grown bully! You should be ashamed of yourself!"

I glare at the huge figure in front of me, his face is pale and there is a stunned look on his face for a moment before his gaze flits over my form to the clinging child I hold and fury fills his face.

"You don't get to come back here and tell me how to raise my sons!" The words erupt from him. "You don't get to walk back in here like nothing happened! You don't have that right! You're the one who walked out the damned door and didn't come back! Now give me my son!"

I can hear hurried movement behind this ... this giant figure, I catch glimpses of movement as I stare at him, my anger and protective rage cooling beneath his words. I hear the unintelligible words being sobbed against my neck by the boy in my arms and I rub the side of my face against his hair. My head is starting to throb and my legs suddenly feel weak.

"You hear me! You don't get to just walk back into our lives whenever it suits you!" He snarls and before I am aware of what he intends the boy is plucked from my arms and he turns away as he cuddles the struggling boy.

"Come on Dacey, Daddy's here. It will be all right," His voice is soft and soothing as he turns and walks away with the child. I stumble slightly and put one hand against a wall for support for a moment before hurrying after him. I can hear my inner cat yowling at me, this tom who had been yelling at us moments before is somehow very important to us. I feel hot and feverish as my mind spins dizzily. There is something, some memory, some knowledge, at the edges of my mind but I am unable to grasp it. I lift a shaking hand to push the hood back off my face as the large tom carrying the little boy disappears from sight. I feel the hood settle on the back of my shoulders and I finger comb my fringe absently as I eye the silent figures crowding the narrow hallway blocking my path.

Each breath I take tells me they are werecats, my mind and senses are bombarded by their scents. Images flicker in my mind, different faces caught in moments in time. I am dimly aware of one figure moving to the front of the crush of bodies, his chest seems to swell for an instant and then he is striding towards me.

"It is you! Thank you God! Thank you!" He is exclaiming hoarsely. I take a step backwards but he is upon me, sweeping me up in a huge hug. I feel his arms encircle me, crushing me close and he buries his face in my hair. His scent fills me as I breathe and warmth rushes through me. My arms that I had raised to ward him off slip around his ribs, and I am hugging him in return as the knowledge this is one of my brothers fills me.

"We need to go to the lounge room," I hear Justin saying. "I need to talk to everyone,"

"I can't believe this!" My brother is exclaiming. "We were told you were dead!"

"Which of my brothers are you?" I ask eagerly. "From what Drew said I was worried none of you would ..." I stop talking as confusion and anger fills my brother's face.

"Take a good look at her head," Justin says pushing past me to catch hold of my brother's shoulder as he begins to open his mouth to speak. I watch as his dark blue eyes run over my face, he gives his own head a slight shake as his eyes dart between my face and Justin's. I notice my brother wears his dark blonde hair in a long ponytail at the back of his head. I can't remember if Drew mentioned one of them doing this but I suddenly know he is the only one with long hair.

"What the ... oh shit! I need a drink, a strong one." My brother says in a strained voice. He reaches towards me with one hand and I eye him suddenly uncertain because of his reaction to the faint traces of my injuries. A moment's hesitation and I go with the deep-seated feeling in me that he would never hurt me and place my hand in his. I take a deep breath and immediately being coughing, the deep chesty cough that has been troubling me most of last night and all day today.

"You're sick!" My brother exclaims and he scoops me up in his arms. I rest my head against his chest as I relax against him and hear his breath catch in his chest for an instant. He walks the way the huge tom had disappeared with the boy. I look around as I am carried into a large room, there are two lounges and several mattresses scattered on the floor in front of a large tv. The sound of a door opening catches my attention and I glance through a large archway.

The large tom from the hallway is still carrying the boy and there are two women with him. A slender very beautiful woman with black hair is carrying a small boy with startlingly blonde hair, while a red-haired woman who is staring at me with a shocked expression is carrying a small sleeping toddler.

"I am going to the main house!" The large tom snaps tersely. "You can't expect me to keep my sons here with her!"

I am distantly aware of the small whimper that escapes me as I wriggle trying to escape from my brother's arms. He turns so I can no longer see through the archway and I try to stand up as he tries to sit me on a lounge.

"Harley sit down! Harley! Listen to me!" Justin demands as he moves blocking my view into that other room and I hear a door click shut in that direction. I glance up into his face as I realise those from the other room are probably gone from the building. A deep sense of loss slowly settles over me and I glance uneasily at my brother as an angry growl comes from him.

"Who the hell is Harley?" He demands.

"Me, well it's the nick-name Drew gave me. He didn't call me Celeste," I say and force a smile. "He always called me Harley."

"Why the hell would he call you Celeste?" One of the others asks and I glance his way. He is extremely sexy with his dark brown eyes, black hair and richly tanned skin. His face is strongly masculine and his lips thick and sensual, I feel heat coil low in my stomach and frown at him. His shoulders are wide, his waist trim and hips narrow all in a tall muscular body.

"From what I got out of her before she fell asleep in the car she's been told a pack of lies so she didn't know who she was or where to turn to for help." Justin says flatly with an apologetic look my way.

"Drew wouldn't have lied to me!" I deny hotly even as an uneasy sliver of doubt makes its way into my mind.

"Celeste Willoughby just went out the kitchen door," Justin says gently and points at the dark sexy guy who had spoken. "That is Steven Willoughby her brother, just behind him is Mikkarl ..."

"No ..." I cut in abruptly as I shake my head. He is going too fast for my mind to grasp what he is saying.

Suddenly it is all making sense, Drew's reluctance to speak about my family, his insistence in heading away from this area. The constant moving from place to place that often left me with the feeling we were hiding from something or someone. I take a deep breath to demand to know who I am but it brings on another coughing fit. I pull my legs up onto the lounge and curl myself over them as I struggle to stop coughing. I become aware of my brother talking tensely not far from me and when I manage to control my coughing I glance his way.

"I can't believe this! I have went through this shit with you before!" He snaps angrily. "Always ready to believe the crap some bastard feeds you to twist you to his way of thinking!" He opens his mouth to say something, seems to think better of it and turns to stalk away. I watch with confusion as he storms into the other room and out of sight. I hear cupboard doors open, then slam closed and a glass bang onto a table or bench top.

"Anyone else for a whiskey?" My brother calls.

"None for me," I say quietly.

"Don't feel like any Dutch courage?" A tom asks as he sits beside me with a friendly smile that I can't help but return. "I remember you used to like that whiskey,"

I shrug as I put my feet off the lounge and down onto the floor, I use both of my hands to flatten my jacket against my body. My right hand above the swell of my stomach, the left hand below.

"I guess I should mention I'm pregnant," I say knowing the pregnancy doesn't show beneath the huge coat. I glance down at my stomach before sliding a sideways glance at the tom seated beside me in the sudden silence. I'm not sure of how my news will be received. I know what Drew always told me, but yet my brother was not acting how Drew claimed he would.

"Well that's an unusual name Stray," The tom beside me says with a forced laugh. "I'm Malcolm. Your brother in the kitchen is Sam and we know you as Rosy."

I stare at him for a few moments as the only sounds are the noise coming from the tv. After a few moments there are one or two faint scuffs as someone moves from foot to foot, a sigh and someone clearing their throat uneasily. I glance around the room curiously as I turn the name Rosy over and over in my mind. Suddenly I remember Hank taunting me. He'd been fiddling with a cd player, repeating the one song over and over again. I remember how my head had been throbbing, and then Hank had sung along off key.

"Harley and Rose they had only lasted for a while..." Over and over Hank had repeated it until Drew had returned and walked into the house, heard what Hank was singing and thrown him out.

"Rosy," I say softly and Malcolm smiles as he nods at me. "My name is Rosy. Who is everyone else? I can't remember, I don't remember ..." Words fail me and I look down where my hands are twisting the hem of my jacket. This place feels so warm and welcoming, so right but I can't remember it or anyone here.

"I'm Dwayne," Large strong hands take hold of mine and I glance up to find him squatting in front of me. I take in his appearance noticing his strong resemblance to Justin and glance towards Justin.

"Yes I'm one of Justin's older brothers," Dwayne says. "Our surname is Williamson. Donny come ..."

"I'm Donovan," I have to tilt my head back to look up at the one who spoke. He is watching me with tear-glazed eyes and smiles when I look at him, I see the hope flare in his eyes and look away as I get the same lack of familiarity. I can hear the heavy drumming of rain on the roof and glance towards the large window along from the tv but it is totally dark outside and I can't see anything.

"What's going on?" A voice demands from somewhere near the hallway. "Micah just stormed into the house with Celeste, Lilly and the boys. He's not making any sense and Lilly tells me I need to get over here! What the heck is going ..."

I turn my head and take in the tom that stalks into the room, dark blue eyes meet mine and I feel something stir within me.

"Rosy! Bloody hell! Oh Rosy!" I scramble to my feet and find myself engulfed in a painfully tight hug. He is shaking and I can hear sobs come from him as he buries his face in the crook of my neck. He releases me only to grasp my head between his hands and rest his forehead against mine as he takes several deep breaths. I clasp his wrists in my hands and press my trembling lips together as he drops a multitude of kisses across my cheeks and even on the tip of my nose.

"I thought we'd lost you!" He sobs and wraps me in his arms once more. I bury my face against his chest and take deep shuddering breaths to take in his scent. A coughing fit seizes me but I wrap my arms around him when he would ease me away from his body.

This is my brother, I know it, I feel it. I don't remember him but still I recognise him on some deep base level. I am here, I am home and I bask in the soothing knowledge and suddenly I know. This is why Drew never ventured this way. This deep instinctive bond would draw me here if I were close. Even on the other side of the state I had felt the stirrings.

I pull back to tell him about the blankness in my mind, my lost memory. About the way Drew had schemed and lied and kept me away. And suddenly it isn't so important. I'll talk to my brothers later, both of them, all of them, how many more? Now is for laughing and crying and holding each other.

"You're my brother! I know you! I know you! I can't remember your name but I know you!" I tell him frantically and he looks at me in shock. His eyes flit over my face and he slowly releases his grasp on my head, his hands engulfing mine, still keeping hold of me.

"You're all damp! Are you wet through?" He asks concerned, his gaze shifting between my eyes.

"What's your name?" I demand ignoring his question. "I'm Har ... I been told my name is Rosy, what's your's?" I'm desperate to know. I feel hands settle on my shoulders from behind and I start slightly and glance back over my shoulder.

"This is our brother Mitchell," Sam says from behind me.

"How many more are there in the family?" I ask eagerly. "The families are pretty big aren't they?"

"Just us three and a younger sister," Mitchell says with a broad grin.

"You are damp from your head to your feet!" Sam snaps. "Okay a warm shower for you and by the time you're finished tea will be ready. We will answer all your questions after you've eaten and are tucked up on the lounge nice and dry and warm."

Micah:

I am numb with a weird kind of shock as I hurry Celeste and Lilly out the door pulling it closed behind me. I can feel my cat prowling in agitation as I pull the jacket over Dacey's head and lead the way towards the main house. I am distantly aware of the misting rain, of Celeste and Lilly hurrying towards the house but my mind is in limbo. I don't understand it, can't fathom how it could be. Rosy is alive, not only is she alive but she is in the quarters and some how it ends there. I had recognised her scent and eyes immediately, but try as I had done instinctively, I could not feel her presence. It was all the proof I needed that our connection was gone and had caused unbelievable shock and pain. The pain had almost been as bad as the pain I had felt the evening I had returned home to find her gone.

I can smell her scent on Dacey, it clings to him tenaciously and my stomach churns. I reach the door of the main house just as the mist begins to turn to raindrops and I stand aside allowing Celeste and Lilly to carry Terry and Wynn inside. I follow them into the house and through to the main living room. Dacey stops his incoherent crying and looks around the room, he is almost silent for a moment before he starts whimpering and trying to get down.

"It was just a bad dream Dacey, just a bad dream," I soothe as I press his head to my shoulder and rock him. "Daddy's here, daddy's here,"

I am aware of Timny, Chris and Mitchell crowding around, of Mitchell asking questions but I am having trouble collecting my wits as I try to calm Dacey.

"You need to go to the quarters Mitchell," Lilly says and I glance her way to find her watching me. I look around for Celeste and see she is seated in a chair holding Terry on her lap.

"What's going on?" Mitchell asks looking at me but I can't make sense of what has happened. Shock, pain, anger, humiliation, outrage, hurt and a lot of other emotions I can't name are boiling around in my mind. And I can't get over the way Rosy had instantly criticized my treatment of Dacey, I would never hurt any of the boys but they did need discipline.

"Mitchell you need to go to the quarters," Lilly says tensely and I turn away trying to quieten Dacey who is inconsolable. I know I should be telling Mitchell what is going on but I am unable to get it straight in my own mind.

"Here," Timny says beside me. "Give Dacey to me for a moment or two,"

"No," I say through gritted teeth. "He needs me,"

I find myself stripping Dacey's pyjama shirt off and heading for the bedroom where the boys sleep when Jazzy invites them to sleep over here at the house. I check through the draws to find a pair of pyjamas to fit him and change him out of the clothing that smells like Rosy. I sit on the edge of one of the beds and rock him as I hum a song. Slowly he begins to quieten and my mind begins to clear of confusion.

"Can we bring the boys in?" Celeste asks quietly and I glance towards the doorway to see her standing just outside the room with Lilly behind her. I realise the room is dark, the last lingering wisps of daylight are gone and night has fallen.

I nod as I get to my feet, turn around and put Dacey into the bed. He has cried himself to sleep, I've lost count of the times it's happened since that night I arrived home to find her gone. I reach out and brush his dark curls off his forehead before tucking his blanket snugly around his shoulders. Next I move to Terry and make sure he has a soft toy in bed with him, lastly I turn to Wynn and my throat tightens as I look down at the face that holds so much of her image.

I look from boy to boy, we had all mourned her absence in our lives but Dacey had been the only one who had refused to give up. Each night he had lit a single candle saying it would guide her home, somehow managing to do it even after I had tried to stop him doing it. I had seen no sense in fostering false hope, had hated seeing his disappointment each morning when he woke to find her still gone.

I start as a hand rubs the back of my shoulder, take a deep breath and slip my arm around Celeste's waist as I lead her from the room. We follow Lilly towards the living room but at the last moment I change my mind and head for the kitchen. Timny is there making a cup of tea and he nods as we walk into the room.

"Jazzy wanted a cup of tea," Timny says and glances down at the cup before looking up to meet my eyes. "What's going on? What do I tell her? She's worried for Cameron,"

Timny's words bring my young nephew to mind. He is barely five weeks old and I have only gotten a quick glimpse of him three days ago. I shake my head even as I shrug my shoulders, I'm not sure exactly what to tell anyone.

"Just that Micah wants the boys here for the night," Lilly says coming to my rescue. Timny glances at her for a second before looking at me once again, he seems to weigh her words for a second before nodding and leaving the room with the steaming cup.

"It looks like she isn't dead like you were told," Celeste says after a minute or so of silence. I turn and look at Celeste, she smiles shakily and slightly uncertainly. She'd refused to let me wallow in my grief, she'd pulled me back from the edge of oblivion at the bottom of a bottle and reminded me that Rosy had entrusted me with fathering her boys. That had saved my life, her friendship had saved my sanity when I had felt broken beyond repair. She had made me see my life could be worth living once more.

"I have to go back over there and talk to her," I say gently.

"I know," Celeste says as she smiles at me.

"The boys are only little. They didn't understand when she disappeared out of their lives and they won't understand her just returning like this," I say as I rake a hand back through my hair. I feel the longer hair fall down over my forehead again and I raise my other hand to use both hands to push it off my face.

"You don't have to explain to me," Celeste says gently. I feel the crooked smile that makes my mouth quiver before it turns the corners up.

"I don't have to but I am all the same," I tell her before dropping a quick kiss on her lips. "I'll be back once I've sorted some things out with her,"

I head for the door and hesitate as I eye the steady rain, for a moment I consider leaving this confrontation until morning before shrugging and reaching for a winter coat someone has left hanging by the front door. As I walk towards the quarters I try to sort out my feelings. I know some part of me still loves Rosy, I guess I always will but the feeling has dimmed. She is no longer the sole reason for my existence and the wound caused by her sudden disappearance has scabbed over, and then healed leaving scar tissue in its place.

The security door is locked and I bang noisily on it for admittance. It is Dwayne who opens it and he steps back to let me enter without a word. I go to walk past him but he reaches out and grasps my upper arm and I turn my head to look at him.

"Don't go in there and just start yelling at her," Dwayne cautions quietly. I frown at him in annoyance. That was how Rosy and I used to communicate when we argued, hotly and loudly.

"She's sick," Dwayne cautions. "Sounds like she has bronchitis if not pneumonia, she's running a fever. Dehydrated and malnourished ..."

I shrug his hand off and head for the lounge room and kitchen where I can hear Mitchell and Sam to see for myself. I hesitate at the door into the lounge room as I take in the sight of her sitting on a mattress in front of the lounge wrapped in a blanket. She is encircled by toms with her brothers either side of her as she sips a steaming mug. The group falls silent at my appearance and Rosy turns her head to look my way.

I am shocked to see all of her once long and lush hair has been cut short with only a thin layer of hair falling forward like a fringe. He face is pale and strained, there are hollows in her cheeks and dark shadows beneath the eyes that seem too large for her face. A fading bruise mars most of the left side of her face, and a thick scar starts near her eye and disappears into her hair. Her face seems different, twisted or skewed almost and I watch as she hurries to get to her feet. The blanket falls from her shoulders and as she stands I can't help but notice the swell of her stomach on her too skinny body.

"I see you moved on with your life," I say tightly as all the hopes, dreams and plans we had made come flooding back. We had spent countless hours talking about and planning the kitts we would have together. How as soon as possible we would start trying for a brother or sister for the three boys. We had known it would probably take several tries before we got a daughter to carry on into the future. All I can think is it should have been my kitt growing beneath her heart.

"Micah," Mitchell growls but no words come from Rosy as she stands watching me almost as if she didn't know me.

"You're Micah?" Rosy asks quietly and I give a snort of disdain. Suddenly the urge to lash out and hurt her as I had hurt strikes me but I take a deep breath and control the urge.

"I came over..." I start to say firmly but Sam breaks in with a growl.

"Shut up and listen for a few moments," Mitchell says and pauses to see if I am about to continue to speak. When I am silent he continues.

"It seems like Rosy was actually hit by a vehicle," Mitchell says and reaches out to grasp one of her hands. I study the way she turns her head to look at him, the way she watches him as if discovering him for the first time. I can't remember her reacting to either of her brothers this way even back in the early days when she first learnt they were related.

"Rosy's had a massive head injury, she doesn't remember anything from before she was hurt," Mitchell says.

"Is that what Doc said?" I ask sceptically.

"Doc? You have a doctor?" Rosy asks with a thread of desperation in her voice.

"What? Worried Doc will be able to tell you weren't hit by a vehicle or injured?" I ask dryly.

"You have a doctor? Call him, please call him!" Rosy says urgently grabbing at first Mitchell and then Sam. Her reaction makes me worried and I frown as she clings to Sam as she begins coughing. The fit goes on and on until she is almost blue in the face and her brother is holding her up.

"Sit her down," I snap as I walk into the room. Sam settles her on the mattress once again and wraps the blanket around her shoulders.

"Please Sam, I need a doctor. Something's not right I just know it!" Rosy urges him. It runs through the back of my mind why doesn't she ask Mitchell or I to get the doctor as we both hold more authority than Sam, but her next words fill me with anger and horror.

"No matter how much I asked and pleaded with Drew he wouldn't get me a doctor or take me to one. Not even when we thought I had lost our kitt," Rosy says tearfully. "Please, I need a doctor,"

"I've already called Doc and he will have everything he needs to do a proper check-up, even an ultrasound machine." Mitchell tells her gently as he rests one hand on her shoulder. I feel a shoulder bump mine and turn my head only to find Steven beside me, he pats me on the back of my shoulders before moving away slightly.

"It's alright, we will take good care of you," Sam is telling her and I watch the way she looks towards him hopefully.

"Drew as in Drew Dorrington?" I ask between clenched teeth. Rosy glances my way, hesitates a moment then nods.

"Where is that little boy who you had earlier?" Rosy asks with an unsettled look my way.

"Dacey? Dacey is tucked up in a bed sound asleep," I tell her levelly. "He didn't understand when you walked out on him without even saying goodbye and he wouldn't understand why you say you don't remember him. Or do you remember him?"

"Hey come on partner! Ease up a bit," Steven says giving me a push. I glare at Steven before glancing back at Rosy, she is staring at me with a stunned expression on her face. I notice how one side of her face doesn't match the other, one cheekbone is slightly lower and her bottom jaw has clearly been broken at sometime and set crooked. I look at the scar running into her hairline and notice the way her damp hair betrays the presence of more scars hidden in her hair.

"Look the boys are only little, they won't understand even if things could be explained," I tell her and she looks at me slightly bewildered. "I will be keeping them away until you work out what you are going to do. Move to your place or go back to Dorrington. All three boys still have bad nights now and then, I am not having them messed about. They are little more than babies and can't understand why their mother left them."

"I'm their mother?" Rosy demands of her brothers as she tries to get to her feet but Sam has hold of her and she soon stops struggling.

"I didn't remember him," Rosy says as she looks up at me with eyes full of misery. "That boy, Dacey. I didn't remember him, but I knew him here!" Rosy says tapping her chest with her clenched fist. This causes another coughing fit and I watch with a sense of helplessness as she fights for breath. Finally she stops coughing but the struggle has left her weak and Sam forces her to lay down with pillows propping her up slightly.

"Micah, sunroom now," Mitchell says as he gets to his feet and comes around the lounge.

"My head's hurting," I hear Rosy say and glance her way to see her with both hands pressed to her head, one hand covering that big scar. I head out to the other room leading the way and turn to face Mitchell when I am near the far end of the room.

"You are not going to torture her by refusing to let her see her sons!" Mitchell snaps as soon as I face him.

"I have to put the welfare of those boys first," I say firmly.

"Look I know what you must be thinking," Mitchell says firmly. "That she is playing some pretend game that she can't remember us here, but look at her head. The injuries she has clearly suffered. I believe her Micah, something happened which is probably why she never came back. She's only here because Justin literally bumped into her in Kyogle. He said she didn't even seem to recognise him,"

"What's to say she won't up and leave again if she doesn't remember how it was before? What if she's too sick to beat that cough?" I ask tightly. "How would I explain Mummy going away again? Or that Mummy really is dead this time? The boys come first Mitchell."

"She's still your wife Micah, you're still married to her," Mitchell says after looking at me for a few long moments. "Regardless of whatever it is you have going with Celeste, Rosy is your wife."