I FINALLY HAVE A NEW CHAPTER FOR YOU GUYS!!! Now, I know what you're all thinking ... where on Earth has she been the past month?!? Well, I've been right here, trying desperately to write this chapter! Writer's block is seriously the worst, but hopefully it's ran its course and won't come back any time soon! :) Now, I know this is a shorter chapter than what I've been writing, but you have no idea how difficult it was to finish, so I hope you like it! Let me know what you think, and stay tuned for more updates (hopefully within the next week/week and a half)!

Ellison sat peering out the window, her eyes trailing after each snowflake as it danced in the luminescent glow of the moonlight. At the center of the room, the fireplace crackled, casting candescent shimmers of light over the colorful ornaments that peppered the spruce tree in the corner of the room. It had been two weeks since she had seen or heard from Tom. December had nearly come and gone, Christmas Eve to arrive in less than three days.

Shivering slightly, she pulled the blanket that lay across her lap over her shoulders. She had left his flat two weeks ago in shock and confusion, a wide array of emotions engulfing her mind. She had encountered the worst of Tom that day ... The deepest, darkest corners of his soul that she had always known were there but had always refused to see. She had refused to believe that was all there was of him though ... Darkness. She knew there was light ... Goodness; She had seen it, experienced it.

Just as she thought she was making headway though, Avery had stormed in, bringing her secret and its disastrous consequences with him. She had been shocked when Tom had kicked her out, but after that, there had only been numbness and fear. Fear that her unwillingness to share the truth would be the very thing that pushed him even further into the darkness. Or worse, it would be the thing to drive the light out of him entirely. 

She had tried desperately to reach out to him, stopping by his flat too many times to count. She had been met with a blank wall each time though ... No door materializing when she rapped against the brick. He was avoiding her and if there was one thing she was sure of, it was that if Tom Riddle didn't want to be found, he wouldn't be.

"Mum, is Tom coming for Christmas?" Ella asked, pulling Ellison out of her thoughts. She turned her head to look at her daughter, whose lips were curled up into an excited grin.

"No love," Ellison shook her head, a sad smile of her own tugging up the corners of her mouth ever so slightly.

"Why not?" Ella asked, furrowing her brow, the hopeful glint her eyes had held, dissolving.

"I'm afraid he's busy sweetie," Ellison replied, brushing an unruly curl behind Ella's ear.

"He's been awfully busy lately," Calla chimed in, lowering the book she had been reading, to her lap.

"He has," Ellison nodded slightly, trying to keep her tone indifferent as her eyes met Calla's.

Calla truly was her father's daughter. She was sensitive like Amos had been; always in tune to what others were feeling. While Ella's bright personality had been the sunshine she had needed to get through the days after Amos's death, it had been Calla who had crept into Ellison's room during those long, lonely nights, just to hold her mother. If she had been able to tell then, at the age of nine, something wasn't right, she undoubtedly knew something was wrong now, despite Ellison's attempts to hide the truth over the past two weeks.

"Well why don't you just make him come?" Ella interjected, pulling Ellison out of her thoughts once again.

"Love, you can't make people do something simply because you want them to do it," Ellison replied, chuckling softly at her daughter's persistence.

"Why not? You make Calla and I do stuff all the time," Ella pressed on, glancing back at her sister for back up, to which Calla nodded in earnest.

"Well yes," Ellison began, smiling softly, "But I'm your mum, which makes me the boss."

"You're not the boss of Tom?"

"No love," Ellison chuckled, "I'm afraid I'm not."

"Can you please get him to come?" Ella whined, her bottom lip protruding out in an exaggerated pout. "What could be more important than Christmas?"

"I tell you what," Ellison began, unfolding her legs from their crisscross position so she could lean forward. "I'll see what I can do about Tom, and in the meantime, why don't you go upstairs to the playroom and try to finish that puzzle we were working on earlier?"

"Okay!" Ella beamed, the frown she had worn moments before twisting up into a familiar grin. With that, she spun around, dashing down the hallway and up the stairs. Ellison peered out the window, the smile she had managed before waning once again, as she continued to watch the snowflakes fall outside.

"He's not going to come, is he?" Calla's voice called from the other side of the room. She had closed her book now and was looking at Ellison knowingly.

"I don't know sweetie," Ellison replied casually, mustering a small smile again.

"Something's wrong," Calla pressed on, eyeing her mother, "You look sad ... The way you looked after dad died."

"Oh love," Ellison began, her heart aching at her daughter's words. Standing up, she crossed the room and sat down beside Calla. "You don't have to worry about me," She said, wrapping an arm around her daughter and pulling her close.

"What happened?" Calla asked softly.

"Sometimes," Ellison began, choosing her next words carefully, "Grownups have disagreements."

"What did you and Tom disagree about?" Calla pressed.

"Nothing that you should be worrying about love," Ellison sighed, stroking her daughter's hair. "You know," She began, pulling Calla's head away from her chest to look at her properly. "You remind me of him ... Your dad. More and more every day."

"How?" Calla asked, her blue eyes peering into Ellison's green ones.

"Well, for starters," Ellison began, tucking a strand of hair behind Calla's ear. "You're kindhearted ... Always thinking about others' feelings." She smiled softly before continuing. "You're gentle ... Always putting other's needs before your own. Your dad was the same way, and he would be so proud of you."

Calla returned her mother's smile, the worry her eyes had held moments before, dissipating.

"Calla!" Ella's voice called from the top of the stairs. "I need your help! I can't find the last corner piece!"

"Go," Ellison nodded with a smile at Calla's inquiring look. "Help your sister ... You don't have to worry about me. Everything will work out one way or another." With that, Calla stood to her feet, heading down the hall, and up the stairs to where Ella stood waiting expectantly.

Ellison stood up, walking over to the window, the bright light of the moon that had illuminated the night sky, now shielded by a looming cloud. She stood there staring out at the, now dim, city street, before letting out a soft sigh, and closing the curtains. 

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