"Dinner is served, grampa, come to the table."

Sofia's voice seemed to startle the old man out of a world full of thoughts. She noticed with worry as he blinked open his eyes, looking quite tired reclined there in his armchair.

"I'm not hungry, Sofia."

Sofia walked in the semi dark room of his grandfather more concerned than before. "What is it, grampa? Are you not feeling well? Do I need to call an ambulance?"

Grampa smiled but she could tell it was forced. "No, I'm quite alright. Go, have dinner and then come back here. I need to talk to you about something very important."

And Sofia knew by heart that something terrible would at last come out of this talk. She could very well sense that, it was that much palpable in the suffocating air of the room.

"I don't feel like eating as well. Had a little bit too much snacks in the diner earlier." she said, walking closer to him. She sat down on a rickety old chair just a couple feet away and to the left of his armchair.

Grampa just stayed quiet.

"Is it about aunt Marla? You know, I've already enrolled her in the rehab, she won't have to stay over there though, that will be a bit... ah... costly," she said uncomfortably, ashamed that she could not provide the needed money. "Aunt Marla's going to be in their outpatient course. She will have to go over there to the center to attend counseling every evening."

"That sounds pretty good," grampa said, sighing. "But it's not about Marla."

Somehow, Sofia could already guess, it was far more life-altering whatever it was.

--

After the meeting ended, except Max and Neil all the other people shuffled out of the room. They waited patiently to know the reason why the senior Wilder, Robert, had asked them to stay back.

Robert Wilder had his eyes set on the files before him as he flipped one file after another in furious speed.

"Neil," Robert said glancing up. "You and Max will be working on the Concord builder's case. It's going to be hard because we've next to no evidence to break their defenses."

While Neil said a firm and confident, "okay," Max sat up straight in alarm.

"But the next hearing of this case is after about two weeks, dad."

"Yeah, I know." Robert muttered uncaringly. "So?"

Max frowned. "I'm going back to London by the end of next week. Obviously, I won't be able to help you on this case."

Sighing, Robert straightened from his slouched position and leaned back against the leather chair. "I've already told you, Max, that I want you to settle down here in Asthel. You're not going anywhere."

"But, dad, it's not like you won't be seeing me ever, I'll keep visiting you all every now and then." Max desperately tried to explain.

"I don't want you to just visit every now and then, Max." Robert pinned Max with a firm look. "Why are you so desperate to just up and leave anyway? Your whole family is here, isn't it?"

And also, Sofia is here, Max thought.

He just didn't want to stay back and watch her keep playing her old vile games with him. It was important he left now, because she had already started to spread her poison, Neil had drifted away from him. Just because of that manipulative, selfish woman.

It took him about ten years to balance out the scores between them and end this age old game she had started. He couldn't just stay and watch her kick start scoring on him again.

"I've a bag load of impending work waiting on me there in London, so I need to leave, dad. And I've made my mind about where I'll be settling in and it's definitely not in Asthel," Max announced and stood up. "I'm sorry."

Neil had been a silent audience to the entire conversation. He was shaking his head looking as unhappy as Robert, Max noticed it as he was leaving. He clenched his jaw in annoyance.

The entire humankind had teamed up against him.

--

Perched on that rickety chair near her grandfather, looking at him with utmost attention, Sofia felt like she was back to being a child again—back to being that little girl from years ago when this same old man used to tell her tales. Each one of those tales used to have a moral underlying, there used to be also some sadness and fights and joy, and then happily ever afters.

Sofia could recall hanging onto the otherworldly words as though her life depended on it. The difference between those tales and what grampa was saying to her was huge, and yet somewhere they had a similar quality.

Right at this moment, her own tale was being written in the stars, she could feel it in her flesh and bones and blood. But unlike the tales her grandfather used to tell her, this one seemed to have no happily ever after stored in its fate.

Otherwise, her ever optimistic grampa would have never looked so forlorn—so defeated.

"This came in the mail this morning." Stretching over the armrest grampa picked up an envelope from his bedside table. He held it out for her to take.

"It's a notice from the bank," he answered her unspoken question.

Sofia stilled. The envelope slipped out of her hand and fell to the floor.

Her grandfather's solemn voice broke through the silence. "You remember how Stellan used to be—always a ball of energy, head full of messy black hair bouncing about whenever he used to run, dark blue soulful eyes."

"How can I forget about my only brother, grampa," Sofia whispered with a shaky smile as her mind travelled back to the memory lane. She bent over to pick up the envelope while blinking rapidly to push back the tears.

"But all the life got sucked out of him when he was diagnosed with leukemia." The creases on his forehead deepened. His eyes stared at the closed blinds of the window. "Your parents did everything to get him well, to keep him alive. They spent all the money they had, I tried helping them with all that I had, but still that was not enough, taking a loan was the last resort to get him the best medical treatments. And yet he lost the battle, nothing could save him."

They never really talked about Stellan that much even though he was always in their thoughts, in their memories. It was a place of great pain for them—the way he suffered his way to a slow death.

"How can I forget," Sofia sniffled, a lump of emotions stuck in her throat. She let the memories flow out in words, and words became flashes of past before her eyes. "I remember it all—Stellan was surely a tough fighter, mom and dad were no less as well. But his health kept deteriorating. And the night he left us, our entire family died with him. Slowly I came to know, mom and dad was gone as well, even when they were still alive," she paused to breathe. Her heart hammered inside her chest. "Dad had already lost his job and then he took to alcohol to try and drown in it the sorrow and frustration—and slowly even his sanity as well. Unfortunately, his bottles could provide him neither consolation, nor peace, nor a solution. It didn't take long before he became abusive."

Grampa's hand rested on hers but she didn't look up at him, she was in her secretly ruined world. It was not every day they talked about it.

"I should have tried more to fix it all—"

Sofia shook head quickly, a couple of tears bounded free with that sudden movement. "You tried as much as you could. What more could you've done when mom was there stubbornly stuck, saving his back every time, denying the beating she got. She'd spiraled way too far in depression by then."

"I should have tried more, stopped that night from ever happening—"

Abrupt rustling of the envelope being opened interrupted him.

Sofia brought out the papers sent from the bank.

"They're going to take this house if the entire loan, with the interest, is not paid in one month's time," Grampa spoke it aloud even when she could read the words just fine.

Sofia sat rigid. "One million dollar," she croaked out, feeling helpless. "I thought we'd some more time, I did go to the bank six months ago to ask for a few years more. They said they were going to try..."

Silence fell in the room.

Sofia knew she couldn't really blame the bank, it had been so many years already. But after providing for the entire family, paying off the line of debts her father made from gambling and drinking, the lease of her diner, the bills, every little accident or loss—she couldn't save much to have this loan paid off. Her earning was like a scrap in front of a hollow pit, it was never enough.

Her dad had already lost their house through gambling, she got to know of it right after half of the house was burnt in toast leaving her parents dead behind.

She'd found home a second time under her grandfather's roof, and now, this home was on the edge of getting destroyed as well.

Sofia squeezed close her eyes wishing for it to be just a nightmare and no more than that.

But the nightmare was here to stay to take form of a brewing storm and shatter the ground beneath her feet.

--

"It's not like we were the reason you had to be indebted from head to toe like that. It was your stupid son and his wife's fault that we're going to lose this house. We're going to be shoved out to the streets. Oh my god!" Marla yelled at Grampa in a shrill tone. Now and then, she was yanking her own hair madly—withdrawal symptoms perhaps.

Sofia had tears glistening in her eyes as she sat at the corner of the lounge area with a notebook and a calculator, jotting down the amounts of money she had stored anywhere, no matter how less it was in front of the incredible amount of the loan.

Grampa looked incredulous beyond limits. "Whatever we did at that time was to save Stellan's life, don't you remember anything?"

Marla was in a roll. Her eyes glinted with angry, defiant moisture that refused to show mercy. "Yes, I do remember how despite all the doctors said that they couldn't do a thing to save Stellan, you and your son and your favorite daughter in-law still went ahead and kept wasting money in his treatments. And what happened after that? He still died, didn't he?"

Sofia gasped. Her hand stilled over the notebook. The force of her aunt's words hit her in the frailest spot.

"Marla!" Grampa's face contorted in horror and pain.

Sofia sprung up on her feet with her hands trembling and tears rolling down her cheeks. "How can you say such things? How..."

Marla glared venomously at Sofia. "Why? Why can't I? Your parents, even after years of their death, are dragging us down in the streets, it is after all because of their stupid decisions that we will lose this house," she paused to breathe for a second. "In fact, technically it's you who should find a way to save us from this predicament, because your parents were the ones to blame for this disaster we're facing right now."

Sofia felt her head spin. She closed her eyes tightly in despair.

"Enough now." grampa yelled in a broken but still authoritative tone. "Don't forget about your own flaws now—your drug addiction, the random boyfriends. You and your children are dependent on Sofia financially."

"She owed it to us by appearing out of the blue one day and beginning to rule this house like she owns it. We must be financially dependent on her but wasn't there a time when she took money from you, from me—when I had a job—to go to culinary school?"

Sofia turned away from everyone, eyes stuck to the ground. It was all true. Surely she had been doing a lot for this family, but there was once a time when this family and even aunt Marla did so much for her—when she had a job, was happily married, living with her husband with a child and expecting another.

It was one of the reasons why she never really could shun Marla even after all her escapades with drugs and dangerous, suspicious guys.

Sofia was not ungrateful.

And she believed somewhere deep inside Marla, her old stable and loving self was still alive.

"You're speaking like Sofia's the one to be blamed for this," grampa said between his sudden bouts of cough, clutching his chest. "Like you're a saint yourself, like you don't endanger your own children's lives by simply being present with your unstable self—hungering every moment for poison that has already hollowed you from the inside—"

Marla's face was red as she yelled, "But I'm trying to—"

"That's enough!" Sofia cried, sprinting towards her grandfather who was beginning to look extremely pale.

Helping the man drink some water, Sofia said with her voice quivering, "I will get the money."

Because, Marla was right about that one thing—that it must be Sofia who should get the family out of this predicament.

But how she was going to do it was a great question she needed to figure out the first thing.

"I'll figure out something," she told more to herself. "There must be a way to manage the money. I won't let them take this house."

"Sof, my sweet child, if god gives a problem he gives a solution too, we just can't see it straight away."

But grampa's words didn't show Sofia any light of hope unlike how they used to until this ruthless moment. She felt like she had suddenly come to stand in front of a cold, dark abyss that would be swallowing her whole at any uncertain moment.

Till this day, she had made it her life's mission to find contentment in the happy faces of this family of hers. All their little moments of happiness and fun had helped her forget the horror of her parent's downfall, the incredible grief of her parents' death. These people—grampa, Skyler, Sam and even Marla once upon a time—had made her forget she was an orphan. But now, at this moment, finding herself getting blamed for that same family's impending ruin, had dragged her back in time, to stand once more in front of the dead bodies of her parents in the morgue. The frightening, heartbreaking memory got alive by Marla's harsh but quite true words had her trembling in agony, just like that unfortunate day ten years ago.

--

"I can't take the money from you, Robert. I still have my self respect left with me," Albert said defiantly. "Besides how did you even come to know about the loan?"

Robert sighed. "The same bank that you and your son had taken the loan from is the same one that manages all my accounts."

There was a brief silence after that. Then Robert, queried in a firmer and confident voice, "Would you've taken the money from someone in your family, from a grandson if you had one?"

Albert frowned. "What are you trying to—"

"Please answer my question," Robert cut in.

Albert sighed. "Yes, of course I would have, just like I depend on my granddaughter Sofia, just like the whole household depends on Sofia, I would have surely depended on my grandson too if I had one. But why are you asking this?"

Robert smiled and not for the first time, felt thankful for possessing a sharp brain. "Then you won't deny it if I pay back the loan in behalf of Max."

Albert frowned at that. "But he is not..."

Robert quickly interjected, "I know, he's not your grandson—yet, yes, but that could be taken care of."

"What exactly are you suggesting here, Robert? I'm totally at a loss."

"Imagine what if Max and Sofia get married."

The stunned look that took over Albert stayed about just a couple seconds.

"Should I imply that even you're aware of the latent affinity between those two?" Robert leaned forward as if he was sharing a great secret. "It's been always there even in the years they were apart. Don't tell me you haven't noticed. After all, I know more than anyone how sharp your eyes are."

Robert could almost see the wheels in Albert's mind rolling into action.

"Look, Robert, you know how I'm against forcing someone into things—"

"But they wouldn't do anything on their own without a strong push that will bring them together," Robert insisted. "I know it's a risk, but the risk might just be worth the gain."

It was what Robert discovered seeing them together that evening. And he knew he was right—otherwise Max wouldn't be so eager to leave, otherwise Sofia wouldn't have jerked back like that to so determinedly dodge Max's touch.

Robert knew for a fact that if Max left this time, there might no more chance for them to find with one another what both their old men could certainly see. That would truly be a sad thing to say honestly. And that was the reason a firm hand was needed in this complicated case of matchmaking.

--

Tentatively, Sofia made her way towards the entrance of Wilders Law Firm, while wishing against all odds not to bump into Max.

It was true they had met after the party, just a few days ago on the street when Robert kind of forced him to fix her car. But they hadn't yet talked, not that she expected or looked forward to talking to him.

Because this was not the Max she knew any more.

To her, they were like strangers. To him, however, she was certain they were more like enemies. But to none, they were friends any longer.

Hastily, like a storm in motion, Sofia walked down the corridor towards Neil's office.

Neil had called her to pick up the check, her payment for catering in his party that evening. It was Sofia's urgent need to collect as much money as she could, and as soon as possible.

She had even decided to take orders to cater in parties—just like Neil had suggested. However, she was just going to handle smaller parties for now to test the waters before she jumped into the catering business full-fledged. Also, she needed more staff for that and that couldn't be arranged overnight.

Her bee-lining straight towards Neil's office came to an unfortunate standstill when his secretary stopped her outside the office doors.

"Do you've an appointment, ma'am?"

"No. But you can ask Neil, he's called me to his office." Sofia looked hesitatingly at the prim and proper lady behind the desk. "It's urgent," she added putting up a smile.

"Sir is in a last minute meeting with his client right now. It cannot be perturbed. So I'm afraid, you'll have to wait for a while, ma'am." The secretary said in her skilled professional tone.

Still, Sofia tried to convince the secretary to call Neil, after all, it would be just a matter of a couple of minutes that she needed to collect the check. But the secretary was adamant.

And Sofia found herself perched on the sofa across the secretary's desk.

For the next half an hour she kept on checking the time on her wrist watch, picked up calls from Simmy, endlessly rocked her feet over the plush carpet as she waited and waited.

And then, the man she dreaded came strolling about.

Max.

"Well, hello, Nita," he chirped charmingly, giving the secretary one of his brightest smiles.

The secretary, whose name apparently was Nita, blushed all shades of red.

"Is Neil still stuck with the boring Mr. Harrington?" he asked.