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A year passed, and Bill and I tried our best to fill the void in little Michelle's life. The poor thing brought me to tears when she spoke her first word. I was playing with her in the garden, and she held out her arms to me and said, "Mama." I was shocked, but I didn't correct her. She was too little to understand. I always told her stories about her beautiful mother; I suppose that is where she heard the word.
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Pilar and Mick moved back into the lighthouse. She was worried about Danny after Michelle's death and Marah's departure, and was afraid to leave him alone with Dietz. Pilar and Bill started dating when Michelle was nearly a year old.
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They would leave the children in my care when they went out. Although Mick was more than a year older than Michelle was, they became fast friends. These were happy times in this house. I only wish they could have continued.
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One night, Bill took Pilar to dinner. I was just getting the children to bed, when I heard a knock on the door. A feeling of doom washed over me when I saw Frank Cooper through the peephole. I opened the door, and the look on his face confirmed my initial reaction.
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"There has been an accident Maria," he said, as I held my breath. "A truck jack-knifed and ran Bill's car off the road. He and Pilar are in the hospital, and they both are in critical condition."
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I heard little else of what he said after that. He helped me gather up Michelle and Mick, and we dropped them off at his house. Then he took me to the hospital. Danny was already there. Forgetting my anger, I ran to him and sobbed into his chest. He put his arms around me, and we cried together for several minutes.
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Finally, I pulled away, and asked him if he had heard anything about Pilar or Bill's condition. "Pilar is dead Maria," he said, and suddenly fury flashed in his eyes. "Bill seems to have pulled through nicely. Although, he'll wish he had not when I am through with him. He has taken the two things I loved the most from me, and I promise that I will take the two things he holds most dear!"
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I was so upset that it took a few moments for his words to register. When I realized what he had said, I cried, "Please Danny! Please drop this vendetta with Bill! It has hurt so many people already, including you! Michelle and Pilar are gone, and there is nothing you could do to bring them back. Don't tarnish their memory by seeking further revenge on Bill."
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"It is in their memory that I seek vengeance!" he thundered, and ran from the hospital. I did not see him again until the next morning. He was waiting in the driveway when I returned to the house with Michelle and Mick. I was dismayed to see him, but I knew why he was there.
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He picked up his nephew in his arms, held him out in front of him, and said, "You are mine now! Let's see if one tree won't grow as crooked as another, with the same wind to twist it!" The unsuspecting boy seemed pleased with Danny's words, and playfully stroked his cheek; but I knew his meaning, and begged him to let Mick stay with us. He refused, and threatened to retrieve his own son from Italy, if we tried to interfere.
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Bill was released from the hospital several weeks later. Although his strength returned, he was a broken man. His only joy came his work, and baby Michelle. Matters were made even worse when we received word that Josh and Reva were killed in a terrorist bombing. We invited Marah to return to Springfield with Lewis, but she refused. She said she wanted to stay in Italy with Shayne.
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Michelle grew into the picture of her mother. She was such a delightful child, and I never tired of her playful antics. When Michelle was about thirteen, Marah reluctantly sent Lewis to Springfield. She knew he would receive the best care in the United States. His kidneys had completely failed, and he needed a transplant.
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Bill flew to Italy, and brought the boy back with him. Michelle was so excited about her second cousin's impending arrival. I tried to explain to her how sick Lewis was, but she would not listen to me. She baked a cake for him, and made elaborate plans for all the things they would do together.
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Bill took Lewis immediately to the hospital when he returned. Michelle begged me to take her there so she could meet him. Poor Lewis was so frail, and he looked like he was only about nine years old, instead of twelve. He and Michelle hit it off immediately. Michelle visited him every day after school, and they would sit in his room and talk for hours.
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Finally, Lewis received his kidney transplant, and he came to live with us. He was still sick, and the doctors said he needed to take strong immuno-suppression drugs for the rest of his life. After about six months, he was strong enough to attend school with Michelle. The other kids picked on him mercilessly, but Michelle always defended him. They were as close as two people could be.
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One day, when the children were about sixteen, we received a phone call from Shayne. He said that Marah had taken an overdose of tranquilizers, and that she was dead. Her death had been accidental. Shayne said that she had been abusing prescription drugs for years. He was about to have her committed to a drug treatment facility, but she died before he had the chance. We flew to Italy for her funeral, and Michelle held Lewis's hand the entire time. The poor boy was in shock; he had loved his mother deeply, although he had not seen her in several years. His only comfort during the entire trip was his doting cousin.
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When we returned to Springfield, we were shocked to find Danny waiting for us at the airport with a small group of policemen. He had papers granting him custody of his son. Michelle clung to Lewis fiercely, and refused to let him go. Tears streamed down both their faces. Finally, after a heated argument between the adults, Lewis realized he had no choice. He bid Michelle a tearful goodbye, and left the airport with the father he had never met.
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