"I always wondered what happened to you. The system isn't kind to kids who are convicted at such a young age," Anson said. "I didn't like the officer who was in charge of the scene. And I really didn't like Deloras Williams."

"So, you're really on my side. The one thing I remember from before, is my Aunt Deloras. She was my father's sister. I not sure, but I think she was his twin sister."

Greg nodded. "Anson and Dad shared the files with me. That's when I first noticed your eyes, and your long hair. I like it short like this too, though. It shows off your strong chin."

"Do you think I'm right? We need to find out what happened to her after the trial?" Mel asked.

"Of course, you're right Melinda," Elvin assured her. "And maybe we can find out where she spent the money she got when she sold the land your house was on. I always wondered why your parents didn't have a will setting up guardianship if something happened to them."

"And why that money didn't come to me. What did the state do about the inheritance laws? Shouldn't the proceeds of the sale have been put in trust for me?" Mel asked.

"Good questions." Greg pushed his chair back, and asked, "Does anyone want anything? I think we're going to be here for a while."

"Just water for me," Mel said and then she looked at his brother and father and continued, "Call me Mel please. Melinda is only for legal documents from now on. I'm even going to see if Peggy will change my name tag for me."

"The usual for us, Greg," Anson said. "It's early enough in the day."

Mel raised her eyebrows, "You have a problem with caffeine like I do? It's why I prefer tea and herbal only ones later in the day."

Elvin sighed, "After a lifetime as a cop, I had to give up on it except one cup a day. Today it's vanilla-cinnamon latte, which I love for the cinnamon. It does seem to help with my arthritis."

"So, you would like yours heavy on the cinnamon," Mel responded.

Elvin nodded.

"And I like mine like Greg does. More the scent of cinnamon than the taste." Anson said.

"Ha! Finally, someone has defined what light cinnamon means. Thank you!" Mel said as Greg came back carrying three cups in his hands with a bottle of water clamped under his elbow.

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

While the men enjoyed their first sips of their lattes, Mel watched a stunning redhead walk in. Her head swiveled as she scanned the various tables, and her face transformed as she smiled.

"Over here," Agnus called as Ralph appeared in the back hall carrying a cake with three tall sparklers shooting bright bits of light.

"You shouldn't have!" the titian haired women blushed bright red.

"I had to. No one remembers your birthday unless it's me."

As Ralph approached the table, he began to sing Happy Birthday and the entire crowd joined in, exploding in applause as they finished their impromptu rendition.

"Now that's how I would like to have my birthday," Mel said. "I always wanted a friend who would think of doing something like that."

"Didn't you make friends with anyone while you were in juvie?" Greg asked.

"I was always the one they teased and bullied. Maybe because I was always the one with the highest marks, and then because I was short with wide hips. Hungry, hungry hippo was a common call whenever I was eating."

Anson shook his head. "And no one bothered to stop it, right?"

Mel nodded. "If I didn't have appointments with Dr. Elizabeth once a month after I started talking, I wouldn't be here."

"And that's why you're a survivor, Mel. Far stronger than most young people you're age," Greg said. "I'm proud to know you."

She felt herself blushing, but remembered to say, "Thank you!" It felt so strange to believe a compliment was genuine and not a set up for something far worse. She opened her water, and chugged half of it before she set it down in front of her.

"So, now that the birthday celebration is over, do you want to know why I don't like Deloras Williams?" Anson said.

"Tell me. I know the cut and dried trial transcripts and the police report from Officer Grumman. But Lana said it was likely a pile of lies. You do too. Why?"

"She was on the scene too quickly. The command post was barely around the corner on the lane leading to your house. Her car was already parked behind it when I went around to make sure I was parked in the right spot."

"Why was that a problem?" Mel asked.

"The address she gave us was in Fort Collins. At least half an hour away. The first news report was only five minutes before I got there," Anson revealed. "To me that means she helped plan it or followed the arsonist out because she knew their habits."

Melinda sipped more water. "Do you think she was the arsonist?"

"It's a possibility too," Greg said.

"I keep coming back to one of your cousins, or even her husband," Elvin interjected.

"I can't even remember how many cousins I have," Mel said.

"They were quite a bit older than you. You're parents were almost forty before you were born, and your brothers were six and eight years older than you," Anson said.

"See. You've told me more than anyone else has. Why didn't Lana or Dr. Elizabeth say anything?" She knew she was almost shouting. How could they keep that from her?

"I expect it's because of your amnesia. Treating it is a fine line between inserting memories by accident and trying to bring them back naturally. I figure you are old enough to know the difference now," Anson told her, his voice down to almost a whisper.

Greg reached over to cover her furious fist before she could raise it to pound the table again. "I don't blame you for being angry, but my brother is right. Listen to what else he has to say, then take the questions back on your next appointment."

Mel nodded and touched the knot forming at the base of her sternum. Please not now.

"Breathe Mel. Slow big breath in and hold it for a few seconds before you exhale." Elvin said.

She took a long slow breath, inhaling vanilla and cinnamon scents and remembering to appreciate the soft padding of the bench where she sat beside Elvin. Letting it out she felt the pain over her heart easing and let herself smile. She turned her hand up under Greg's and squeezed.

"Thank you, Greg. It's getting easier if I remember to breath properly right away. How do all of you know about these attacks?" Curiosity was killing her.

"Arianna, my daughter," Anson said. "My middle girl."

"Okay." Mel wanted to know the story, but she felt awkward asking. The sadness in their eyes was like a warning beacon.

"Ask Greg later. He'll tell you," Elvin said before he lifted his cup again.

Mel nodded. "Just tell me she's okay now."

"She is, but she taught our whole family some pretty important lessons," Anson responded. "Now back to Deloras at the fire."

"What else didn't the reports get right?" Melinda asked.