The Downfall’s first real video took five days to shoot. Five days that Emmy and the boys were in Los Angeles. Five days of an empty bed, because I had a big midterm in Bio that kept me from going with them. I had an ‘A’ going in the class and I didn’t want to jeopardize it, so I acted like an adult and buckled down and studied instead of going to Hollywood for the video shoot, as much as it sounded like a lot of fun.

I guess it was a good thing I stayed home because one of the strays (a girl about my age named Sana) really needed my help. We had set her up in a studio apartment in San Jose in a neighborhood that seemed O.K., but she got harassed by some jackasses on her way home from work. Thankfully the guys were frightened off before they could do anything too serious, but she was still very shaken up. As soon as she called me I rushed over to her place, where I found her crying.

“I hate this! I hate it!” Sana sobbed, her usually soft English accent stronger than I’d ever heard it.

“What, Sana?” I asked, sitting next to her on the couch, rubbing her shoulder.

“Living in the daylight! I hate it! They all hate me, too!”

“No, they don’t all hate you,” I said, giving her a shoulder hug. “Look at me. I’m a daylighter, and I don’t hate you. Donny doesn’t hate you, does he?”

“No, Donny is nice. And you’re… well, you’re… No, I guess not all daylighters hate us,” Sana admitted.

“Tell me why you hate living in the daylight,” I urged, trying to make her feel better.

“I get headaches all the time. It’s too bright,” she complained. “And the daylighters all look at me, they stare all the time.”

“Let me tell you something,” I said. “When I first met Emmy, I stared, too. I‘d never seen anybody like her ever before, and never even imagined anybody could look like her. Obviously, I didn’t know about the Children of the Night. She came to my town, to my school, and I was asked to help her out, to show her around. At first I had a hard time. I wasn’t afraid of her, and I didn’t hate her- I was just fascinated. She was so different, so amazing. We spent a lot of time together, and after a while I stopped even noticing that she was different from everybody else. She was just Emmy, that’s all. But when we went out in public together, I saw how other people would stare and it really bothered me. I would get really mad, but then Emmy reminded me that I stared at first, too. It’s just human nature, Emmy said. Don’t take it personally, she said, because it’s not personal. It’s curiosity more than anything else, that’s all.”

“But what about those two men that wanted to beat me up?” Sana demanded.

“No, you’re right. Some people, but only just a few, hate anybody different. Those people are ignorant, and dangerous. Those same guys would probably have attacked me because I love another girl. For some reason, bigots like that just can’t stand anybody that isn’t just like themselves. Really, it wasn’t personal with them, either,” I explained.

“It felt personal to me,” she said, her voice bitter.

“Yeah, I can imagine,” I agreed. “But all I can say is to just keep watch for guys like that in the future, and do your best to avoid risky situations.”

“It will be hard. I know they live in the area. I’ve seen them a few times before,” Sana said.

“Then let’s get you out of this neighborhood. I don’t want to put you at risk of being attacked again,” I said. “Stay at our place tonight. I’ll get something figured out, something better for you. Meanwhile, we need to get you some sunglasses. They'll help your headaches. Grab what you need for tonight and let’s go.”

On the way back to the condo we stopped at a sunglass place in a strip mall near campus and I helped Sana pick out a two hundred dollar pair of Revo sunglasses. I’d never spent anything near that for sunglasses for myself, but I didn’t need them nearly as much as someone who was evolved to live in total darkness, did I? The lenses weren’t all that dark, but did an excellent job of cutting the sunlight down enough for Sana to be comfortable.

Sana was shocked at how much they cost and also at the fact that I was willing to spend that kind of money on her. She tried to talk me out of it, but I told her that she was my responsibility and I was not going to let anyone in my shadow suffer if I could help it.

“Look,” I explained. “Emmy and I are the ones making you live in the daylight, so it’s only fair that I do what I can to make you able to do what we demand of you, right?” When Sana nodded, I went on. “I am going to tell you to be very careful with those sunglasses. Treat them well and they’ll treat you well. All right?” Sana nodded again, and the discussion was over. I paid for the glasses and we went back to the townhouse.

Sana had never been to the house. In fact, none of the strays but Michael and Jassie had up to this point. Emmy was a bit private about it, mainly to reduce our exposure to risk, I think, and I understood that. Sana needed a place to stay and also needed some emotional support, though, so I thought it would be best if she stayed over for a day or two until I worked out new living arrangements for her.

“Your house is so beautiful!” said Sana as we entered. “”Oh…” she breathed, running her hand along the leather couch. “May I?”

“Sure. Make yourself at home,” I replied, and she flopped down on the big, cushy sofa. The look of bliss on her pitch-black face was almost comic as she kicked off her shoes and stretched out on the couch.

I sat down on the armchair and said “Look, Sana. You can stay here for a couple of days. We need to get you a new place, someplace safer, and get you moved as soon as possible.”

“Can I just stay here with you and Emmy?” Sana pleaded. “I don’t want to live by myself anymore.”

“We just don’t have the room,” I replied. “Jassie stays here at night when her dad is out looking for more Children. He’s due to go out looking on Monday night, so we need to figure out something for you before then.”

“Why does she get to stay, but I can’t?” Sana pouted.

“Two reasons. The first is that Michael and Jassie were the first to accept the offer of our shadow, so they get special treatment. But even more important than that, Jassie is just too young to be on her own, and we need Michael to continue his work. She’s our responsibility, and as the youngest, she needs the most protection.”

Sana seemed to accept that, so I got up to fix dinner. Donny was happy to accept an invite, so I made pasta salad for the three of us.

Later, when the discussion turned to Sana’s housing dilemma, Donny was quick with a solution. “She could stay with me,” he offered. “The apartment you guys got me is plenty big enough, and I’m not really using the second room as an office, so it could be turned back into a bedroom no problem.”

“Would… would that be O.K.?” asked Sana, unsure where she stood.

“Yeah, it’d be great!” Donny raved. “The only thing is, I’m a terrible cook, so don’t expect to eat too well.”

“You… would cook for me?”

“Like I said, I’m crummy at it. But if you’re cool with burritos and mac and cheese, sure I’ll cook.”

“Mac and cheese?” Sana asked, puzzled.

“Don’t worry- you’ll love it,” Donny assured, but I wasn’t so certain.

“Um, Donny,” I said. “Emmy mentioned that a lot of Night Children may be lactose intolerant. You might want to be careful with the cheese.”

“Whatever,” he said with a shrug. “We'll just have to work out what you like and what you don't. It'll be fine,” Donny said, with far more assurance than I had.

By the time we were done with dinner, it was all arranged. Donny had Saturday to get the apartment ready, and then we'd move Sana in on Sunday.

Sana was an O.K. house guest, but it was clear she wasn’t used to living in such nice conditions. She told me she was raised from the time she was ten in various foster homes in the U.K. and when she got out of the system at the age of sixteen she made her way to the Bay Area to put as much distance as possible from her past. Most of the time she had been simply ignored, but had been the victim of quite a bit of bullying over the years. Here in California she’d managed to get a job and had rented a room in what seemed like some kind of boarding house, but it was all so crummy and shabby that even the little one-bedroom apartment we rented for her was a huge step up. I mean, at least she finally had her own bathroom, right?

“Sana’s really great,” Donny said over coffee a couple of weeks later. “I thought that having a roommate again would be a pain, but she’s been really great.”

“In what way? I asked, curious. I had gotten to enjoy our regular coffee stops, and I could always count on Donny for interesting conversation.

“Well, she’s very neat. She’s the first roommate I’ve ever seen that actually cleans up after themselves. She can’t cook, but that’s O.K. because she doesn’t mind doing the dishes after I cook, so it works out.”

“That’s just like Emmy and me,” I laughed. “I cook, and she does the dishes.”

“Yeah, well, it’s nice. It’s also forcing me to eat better, because now I can’t just eat soup straight from the can anymore- I have to cook for the two of us.”

“Straight from the can?” I asked, aghast. “You mean, without even heating it up?”

“It’s a guy thing. You wouldn’t understand,” Donny teased.

“Yuck,” I replied. “I should hope not.”

“Well, anyway, Sana’s been a great roommate, and I like having her around.”

“Uh, Donny,” I wondered. “Does she walk around the apartment naked?”

Puzzled, Donny replied “No… Why?”

“Well, she did for the couple of days she stayed at our place. I told her that when she moved in with you she would have to stop that.”

“You have no idea how much I hate you right now, Leah,” Donny said. “Call her up right now and tell her it’s perfectly O.K. to walk around the apartment naked as much as she wants. In fact, tell her that you were wrong, and she should spend as much time naked as possible at home.”

Smiling at the comically intense look on Donny’s freckled face, I replied “Don’t you wish.”

“Yeah, as a matter of fact, I do,” he sighed, a wistful look on his face. “I’m really getting to like her, but I’m not sure if I should even ask her out. I mean, we’re living together, and things are going O.K., but if I try to put a move on her maybe it’ll make things really awkward.”

“Yeah, I could see that,” I agreed. “I’d say just keep doing what you’re doing and maybe something more will develop,” I said, shouldering my backpack to leave for class.

“Don’t forget to tell her about the naked thing,” Donny said, hopefully.

I just laughed, and we walked to Bio in companionable silence. I was thinking about upcoming midterms, but judging by the grin on Donny’s face he was thinking about a naked Sana.

A few days later Donny came over for dinner. Emmy was at rehearsal and Sana had the evening shift at her job at the department store, so it was just the two of us.

Chatting over dinner, most of what Donny wanted to talk about was Sana. “She’s got a great sense of humor,” Donny gushed. “Now that she’s opening up and feeling more comfortable it’s really starting to appear.” Suddenly serious, he looked at me. “I like her a lot, Leah. I’m starting to think that it might be mutual. That’s O.K. with you and Emmy, right?”

Laughing, I said “Of course it is! Donny, you know better than anyone that all we want for the strays is for them to find their place in society. If that means falling for some guy who couldn’t get a tan if his life depended on it, well, that’s perfectly fine. You’re a great guy, and any girl would be lucky to have you as a boyfriend.”

“Except you,” Donny said, reminding me of his old crush on me.

It made me a little sad to think he might still be hung up on me a little bit, so I just laughed it off. “I’m taken,” I replied, smiling to let him know things were O.K.

“Yeah, I know,” he agreed, smiling back to show me he was over it.

As we were cleaning up, Donny remembered something he wanted to talk about.

“I’m learning a lot about Night Children culture from Sana,” he said. “She’s been explaining how the whole ‘being in the shadow’ thing, and about how you and Emmy are the queens of the strays, and how they would do anything for you. She also told me about the different nations, and how Hakan came from a nation everybody thought was dead and gone.”

“You might actually know more about all this than me,” I laughed. “Emmy really doesn’t talk much about it at all.”

“Oh, yeah,” Donny said, recalling something else. “She also told me about how Emmy is super special because she’s ‘moon kissed’ and how there are so very few ‘moon kissed’ throughout history, and they’re always a sign of something important.”

“Moon kissed?” I asked, turning to face Donny. “What does that mean?

“Well, the way Sana explained it, the moon kissed are only born once in a great while, like every few hundred years or something. They always become great leaders, or prophets, or something like that. They are like, sacred or something. Kinda like white buffalos for American Indians or something.”

“That doesn’t explain what ‘moon kissed’ means, Donny.” I said, exasperated.

“Oh- yeah, right. Well, with the white hair and pale eyes. They really are like albinos, I guess. From what Sana has told me, some family lines tend to produce them more than others. The founder of the Lascaux dynasty was moon kissed, for example.”

“What else has she told you about them?” I asked, wondering what else Emmy hadn’t been telling me.

“Well, she said they tend to live amazing lives, but always too short,” he said, then realized what he’d just said.

“What do you mean, ‘too short’” I asked, suddenly paying a lot of attention.

“Well,” he answered, looking uncomfortable. “I’m sure Emmy will be different, ‘cause, I mean, medicine is so much better now, and all…” he trailed off. It was making me feel sick to hear what he was saying, but I had to know.

“Tell me,” I demanded, and Donny knew he wasn’t getting off easily.

“Sana said that moon kissed never live past thirty years old,” he finally admitted, refusing to look me in the face. “She said they always die young.”

When Emmy got home that night, she found me waiting for her. “Were you ever going to tell me about you being ‘moon kissed’?” I demanded. “Didn’t you think this was something I ought to know?” I was hurt she’d kept me in the dark, and absolutely heartsick to know that we’d have maybe a decade together at the most.

Emmy stopped in her tracks, looking at me like a deer in the headlights. She didn’t know what to say, but I could see the emotions flittering across her face. Unable to take it any longer, I reached out and took her in my arms, squeezing her slender body against mine as if it were the last time- which it felt as if it could possibly be.

“God, Em,” I sobbed, clinging to her with all I had. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I did not want you to know,” Emmy admitted. “I was afraid you would not want me.”

Soon we were both crying, clutching each other in a embrace neither of us ever wanted to end. I don’t know how long we stayed like that, but eventually we wound up on the couch, holding each other. I couldn’t help touching Emmy. It was as if I wanted to convince myself of her permanence, to convince myself she was there, and always would be.

“How… who told you?” Emmy asked, her voice quiet as a whisper.

“It doesn’t matter who told me, Em. Well, it does, actually. It matters because it wasn’t you who told me.”

“I am so sorry,” Emmy moaned, about to burst into tears again. “I am so sorry.”

“Sorry that you never told me, or sorry that I found out?” I asked, and it sounded harsher than I’d intended.

“Sorry for what I am,” Emmy wailed softly, collapsing onto my lap. Great heaving but silent sobs wracked her slim body, but all I could do was gently stroke her hair and wipe away her tears with my thumb.

“Oh, Em, you can’t help the way you were born. Don’t cry, baby. Please, don’t cry,” I urged, but the tears were rolling down my face as well. “Please don’t cry.”

Eventually, Emmy’s tears subsided, but she made no move to get up off my lap. She was lying on her side, her knees tucked up tight to her middle, her face buried in my tummy. I was stroking her face and running my fingers through her fine white hair, wondering what it really meant to be moon kissed.

“Em,” I sighed. “I don’t understand why you never told me. I don’t even really understand what it means. Please- explain it all to me, would you?” I asked, trying to make my voice as gentle as possible. I was doing my best to stay calm and under control, but deep inside I was panicking. “Please,” I begged. “I need to know.”

“Leah, it means that… Well, it means that my life is to be short, but significant,” Emmy finally replied, barely loud enough for me to hear. “It means that I must do great things, but I must do them soon, for I do not have much time left. Perhaps as little as ten more years,” she added, her voice trailing off to a whisper. That seemed to be all that she was going to say on the subject at the moment, so I just held her, stroked her hair, and murmured that I loved her no matter what, and we would face this together.

Emmy suddenly sat up and looked me straight in the eyes. “Leah, I will will grow old and die when you are still a young woman,” she said. “If I am lucky, the most I can expect to live will be thirty-five years. No moon-kissed has ever lived any longer than that, Leah.”

“Yeah, I got that,” I said. “I got that part. What about the part about having to do great things? What’s that all about?”

“This is why my parents believe that I am the one to lead our people into the light,” Emmy explained, still serious. “Moon kissed are always bringers of change, Leah. Always. My parents thought that their child would help them show our people a new way of living, but when I was born in that daylight hospital in Paris with white hair and light eyes they knew that I would do it- that I was the one, Leah. I am the one.”

I had nothing to say to that, so I let my actions be my answer and took her in my arms and squeezed her, holding her tight and close. I buried my face in her snow-white hair and just held her like that for a long time.

Later, after I’d fixed her something to eat, I brought the subject up again. “Em,” I began, not really sure how to frame my thoughts. “So moon-kissed have a life expectancy of somewhere around thirty to thirty-five years, right?” I asked, and Emmy nodded yes as she sipped her soup. “I”m assuming that is without proper modern medical care, right?”

“Yes, but…” Emmy replied.

“Well, let’s say for the sake of argument that with top care it can be pushed back, like, maybe five or ten years. That means that we have anywhere from ten to twenty-five more years together, right?” I asked, more to help my own train of thought along the tracks than really expecting a response.

Emmy made a sort of noise to indicate that she was following, so I continued. “This means that we need to have our child by the time you turn twenty-five or so. I want our daughter to get to know her own mother before it’s too late,” I said, doing my best to remain objective and not give in to the tears that were threatening to escape.

“You… you still wish to have a child with me?” Emmy asked, sounding surprised.

“Of course I do, Em. Of course I do. Also, you need to do it for your family’s sake. I guess I understand a little bit better about how intense your mom was on the subject now,” I admitted. I was doing everything I could to not think of my own dad who’d disappeared from my life when I was only a child, but I knew that our own baby would face the same thing.

“I do not think the time is right just now,” Emmy said. “I think that we should wait until you have finished school and my music is done.”

“Yeah,” I agreed. “But maybe we could go upstairs and see if we can make a baby now?”

“I don’t think that is how it works,” Emmy laughed as she put her bowl into the dishwasher. “But I think we should try anyhow.”

It seemed as if we had both come to some sort of acceptance of the situation, but it didn’t just disappear from my thoughts. Yeah, I knew what we had to do as far as Emmy’s duties were concerned, and yeah, I did my best to avoid thinking about Emmy growing sick and dying in a dozen years, but both issues did continue to percolate in my mind and I knew that there had to be some way to make this work out.

"Call me," the text from Stephanie said, completely out of the blue. Wondering what was up, I called back after class.

"Was her video about you and me?" she asked as soon as she answered my phone call.

"What are you talking about?"

"Emmy's new video. You know, her band, The Downfall?"

"Well, yeah, I know her band. But I haven't seen any new video, much less one about you and me," I replied, exasperated.

"Well, like, go on YouTube and check it out!" Stephanie demanded.

"It'll have to wait until I get home. I have a midterm in half an hour," I responded.

"O.K. But when you do, call me right away. Or maybe you could just ask Emmy, I guess," she said.

Wondering what could have Stephanie in such a tizzy, I did watch the video when I got home that afternoon.

It was for the song that Tom had written for Emmy, the one about how you could never love someone like me. The scene for the video looked like a typical high school, and Emmy was one of the students. She had a crush on the good-looking guy who never noticed her, but dated the beautiful cheerleader instead.

There were a few things interesting about the video, besides the fact that the cheerleader did look an awful lot like Steph, and the golden-tanned blond love interest guy did play beach volleyball while his girlfriend looked on, making me think that maybe Steph had been right.

No, the thing I found most interesting was the way Emmy was dressed. She had a flannel shirt over a 'Prodigal Sons' T shirt, cargo pants, and Chuck Taylors on her feet, with a beanie pulled down low on her head. In one scene she was in her room and it looked like a guy's bedroom, not a girl's.

I couldn't figure out if she was playing the role of a wallflower tomboy girl who didn't know how or care to be the pretty girl to attract the hot guy, or if Emmy was playing the part of a gay boy who was in the closet and was dreaming about the guy he could never have.

I called Stephanie and told her that it certainly did look as if the guy and his girlfriend were modeled after the two of us, but I hadn't had a chance to talk to Emmy yet.

"Well, tell her that next time she wants somebody for one of her videos that looks like me, tell her that, like, I'm available and would be happy to be in a video, will you?"

"It doesn't bother you that she did that? Put somebody in her video that looks like you?" I asked.

"Mostly it just bothers me that she didn't ask me to be in her video," Steph admitted. "I mean, it's not like I know any other rock stars, is it?"

“So you aren’t pissed at her?”

“No, I’m not,” Stephanie replied. “I mean, I’m like, envious, you know? I mean, Emmy’s like Barbie. She has everything.”