I go after Alexander and only catch him when he's upstairs already. "Alexander!" I call after him again, but he doesn't stop. He doesn't even turn around to look at me.

I huff. When we come to his room, Alexander steps in and finally turns to look at me, standing by the door now, holding it open with an inviting smile. "I'm gonna take a shower. Wanna join?" He gives me a heart-splitting and eye-blinding smile.

I inhale sharply, pressing my lips together. All his skin that's on display is inviting my eyes to look at it and my hands to touch it. "Yes," I say, not even knowing what I'm saying yes to anymore.

Until I see the amusement on his face. He raises his eyebrows and his smile grows bigger.

Oh. Oh! Oh, God. "No! I mean no!" I close my eyes and rub my face in mortification. I can feel how hot it's getting. "God, no," I say, disgusted. "Why do you have to be so inappropriate all of the time?" I sound like a child now. Or a twelve-year-old who heard the word sex come out of a grown-up and has to pretend she heard it for the first time and doesn't know what it means.

Alexander's eyebrows raise up even higher. "Me? Inappropriate? You just agreed to take a shower with me. And then I'm the inappropriate one!" He says the last part like he's outraged by it.

My face probably looks like a tomato right now. "I wasn't agreeing to ... that!" My cheeks flame even more if that's even possible. And then the image of Alexander's hot, wet and completely naked body standing in the shower while water runs down his skin flashes in front of my eyes.

I think I moan out loud because Alexander looks at me in a weird way.

I need to go. I need to go the hell away from here and him.

"I'm not even going to ask what you're thinking right now ... although I've got a pretty good idea," Alexander says with a tight voice, all traces of his playfulness and smile is now gone, replaced by a very dark and hungry look on his face.

Oh. Dear. God. Forgive me for I'm about to sin.

"Uhm ..." If I were a dog, I'd start digging a hole and bury myself into it.

Alexander wraps his hand around my neck – oh, God, can he feel how hot it is? – and pulls me forward, pressing his lips right on my ear. "I'm having the same thoughts about you, too, Little one."

I put my hand on the doorframe so I don't crash down on the floor. My knees are so weak, they literally feel like jello. Is this normal? Can one person really have that kind of effect on you?

"I'm ... going to, uhm, go now ... I think," my voice comes out barely a whisper and so unsure and lost it even surprises me.

How funny it is that I can have witty comebacks when I'm playing around with him, but as soon as he says something and throws me off guard, I turn into a blabbering mess who can't draft their thoughts together properly.

When Alexander leans back, he puts his hands on his hips, bringing my attention back to his chest. My mouth gets dry. I want to touch and lick every tattoo he has ... and he's got a lot of them ...

I bring my hand on my forehead, barely stopping myself from slapping my own cheek.

"You think?" Alexander questions. "You know ... the offer still stands." He steps aside and makes a gesture with his hand, inviting me in.

I groan out loud and turn away and then almost run to my room before it's too late and I really do something stupid.

What in the whole world was that?

I try to take my breathing under control and head towards the bathroom. I don't dare to look myself in the mirror because, frankly, I'm kind of afraid what I'll see in the mirror. I head straight for the shower, turning on the water.

And there's a reason I shower with water that's a little colder today than any other day.

•••

Amelia is sick. She's grumpy because she can't do anything. She has a high fever and is completely without an appetite. Rosalyn tried calling to work, seeing if she could stay at home with her daughter, but she apparently can't for some reason.

She wasn't keen on leaving her sick daughter, even though I knew she trusted me. Although I was afraid to be alone with her because I didn't have any slightest idea what to do with a sick child, especially when she can't play around and needs to rest as much as she can. I don't think resting is in Amelia's vocabulary, so she doesn't accept it lightly.

Rosalyn tells me to call her if it gets worse with her. She told me she gave her a syrup for fever and if it doesn't go down, I have to give it to her again in four hours.

I'm totally freaking out by this. I can't even take care of myself when I'm sick!

But I'm paid now to do that, so I carefully listen to Rosalyn's words.

When she leaves, I ask Rosanna if she can make chicken soup. I heard that helps sometimes.

And then I spend basically the whole day in bed with Amelia. We watch cartoons on a tablet, I read her fairytales or we just talk. But she's not herself and that is clear as a day.

She also sleeps a lot. And when I check her fever after four hours when she should get syrup again, I see it's gotten down a bit, but not much. I give her the syrup.

Rosanna wasn't in the house the whole day - she had other obligations, so it was just on me how I took care of Amelia and I was afraid there would suddenly happen something that I wouldn't know how to help her.

But, thankfully, the day passed without any complications. And Rosalyn came home a bit early. Even Alfred rushed home to his daughter as soon as he could and Amelia's parents both showered her with love.

In the evening, Amelia was feeling so much better that she could come down to the dinner with us. She was unusually quiet - unusually because we just weren't used to the silence on her part and it was a new thing.

And in the middle of the dinner, Alexander decided to bless us with his presence. I kind of wish he didn't. Because as soon as my eyes landed on him and he gave me that secretive stare, I blushed so hard I thought I'd put the table on fire because of how hot my body became.

I still can't believe what happened just this morning.

What happened to him to act this way towards me suddenly? What provoked his sudden change?

Alexander throws his motorcycle keys on the table and sits down - dressed in all black, of course, only his T-shirt is white. And it looks delicious in contrast to all his dark clothes.

I turn my eyes down on the table, refusing to let him know what battle I am dealing with inside of my mind.

Alexander's halfway done with dinner when Amelia decides to bring a delicate theme - as it seems - up in her little blabbering. "Mummy, how are we going to name our sister?"

Rosalyn looks at her and I notice a slight panic written on her face. She casts a careful look in Alexander's direction who, apparently, decided to ignore us all yet again - as usual. "We haven't thought about it. It could be a brother, too, baby."

"I want to name her Zoe!" Amelia suddenly, unexpectedly says.

And as if she dropped a bomb on us, or right in the middle of the table, Alexander loudly puts the fork down on the table, staring at his sister like a wild mess.

A silence hugs us all at the table. The air instantly gets colder and the mood instantly gets awkward.

"You must be fucking kidding me!" Alexander says under his breath, still staring at his sister, his nostrils flaring in anger, I now notice.

I train my eyes on him and keep them there, trying to read why he reacted that way. This is not a simple reaction someone gets when their sister tells them a name she picked for her unborn sister.

And now, looking at Alfred and Rosalyn's faces, they're all pale and full of shock.

I feel so uncomfortable because I know they're sharing some secret I'm not a part of and it feels like I shouldn't even be here with them.

Alexander suddenly stands up and I turn my eyes back on him in a swift move. He's going through his hair with his hand. He looks so lost and so wild at this moment, I'm afraid he's going to do something to Amelia after the way he looked at her when those simple words left her mouth, but he simply turns on his heels and walks out of the room. I hear him go up the stairs.

Rosalyn and Alfred turned mute. And I just lose the appetite at this sudden tension in the room.

I stand up from the table. I don't think Alfred or Rosalyn even notice it. I think about taking Amelia out of the room, too, and leave the parents to deal with whatever shock Amelia's words brought to them, but then Rosalyn turns to her daughter and looks at her with all the love in the world she must feel for her.

"Sweetheart. We'll think about it, alright? There's still some time for that."

"But, Mummy!" Amelia protests. "I want Zoe!"

I leave the room at that because the air just got so thick I'm afraid I'll choke.

I don't know what makes me even think about doing it, but I go look for Alexander. For some reason, he really seemed shocked and distraught. It kind of made me feel some type of way. Sympathy. I feel sympathy. I don't know the reason as to why.

When I go upstairs and to my room, I see his door is tightly closed, which is nothing surprising. I decide on looking on the rooftop first because there's a bigger chance to find it out there than in his room.

And I am right.

He's standing on the rooftop. I see the smoke blowing out his mouth, both from the cigarette and the cold. If he keeps smoking so much, he's going to die at 30!

I silently climb out through my own window and stand next to him, looking forward to see the same as he does. There are only lights blinking up back in the darkness.

And now that I am here, I don't know what to say. I have so many questions for him, to which I doubt he'll give me answers to. And I'm afraid to ask these questions. Because I just don't know what to expect.

"You didn't have to come after me, you know," Alexander starts, breaking this silence between us.

I look at his profile, staring at him with big eyes. "What does the name Zoe mean to you?"

I watch how his expression changes. He closes his eyes, takes a sharp breath, his face closing off completely.

"A lot, Little one. That name means a lot to me." His voice is so lost, I'm not used to hearing him that torn.

I frown. I briefly think if this was his ex-girlfriend. It sure had to be someone very close to him and his family. I don't know who could mean so much to Alexander to be this torn apart just by hearing their name. "Who was she, Alexander?" I ask directly.

Alexander throws his head back and looks up at the sky. "Do you ever ask yourself what's up there, Little one?"

He decides to ignore my question. And I decide I'll play his game this time. I look up at the stairs, too. "Often. And whatever that is, I know it's better than down here."

I look at the millions - billions of stars blinking down at us - two lost souls, admiring their beauty. It's so effortlessly beautiful and I think that makes it that more special.

"It must be. Perhaps that's why angels rather go up there than stay down here."

I turn my head to look at him now. "What do you mean?" I whisper, afraid of even asking.

"Sometimes, Little one, as crazy as this sounds, when I look up at the stars, I focus on that one particular blinking star and I think that it might be my little sister, waving down at me."

I blink at him. Rapidly. It seems that my brain can't process his words. "What?"

Alexander looks at me now. His face looks peaceful now. "My sister, Gabrielle. She was born as an angel for this Earth, who was after killed by the devil himself. I killed my sister, Gabrielle."