Jessica sat waiting for a meeting with Police Commissioner Scorpio. She had only been waiting five minutes or so when the tiny cell phone in her purse began to ring. “Hello.”

“Hello, darling! Is everything all right there?”

“Everything is fine, Lucinda.” Jessica moved to a more private area. “Except, perhaps, the fact that you neglected to tell my client about me.”

“Oh, darling, pay no attention to Stefan. He is a beautiful man, but like any other man he has to be led.”

“Lucinda- ”

“My dear, you are just what he needs.” The muffled sound of another voice could be heard in the background. “Jessica, I have to go. Have Stefan give me a call once you have gotten him out of jail.”

“Lucinda- ”

All she heard from the phone was a dial tone. Jessica sighed in frustration. Once again, dealing with Lucinda Walsh left her feeling as though she'd survived a hurricane. It was a wonder their unusual friendship survived. Lucinda operated by a set of rules that seemed to apply primarily to the wealthy and/or powerful. It was a code that said the ends always justified the means; and good intentions outweighed bad behavior every time.

Ten minutes with Stefan Cassadine and Jessica knew that she had just met another disciple of the code.

“Shall I prepare you a cup of tea, Miss Alexis?”

Alexis started. She had been so deep in thought that Mrs. Landsbury's approach had gone unnoticed. “No, thank you, Mrs. Landsbury. I will stick with what I have.” She lifted her glass of scotch in sarcastic toast.

“Miss Alexis,” the longtime housekeeper asked hesitantly, “will Mr. Stefan be released this afternoon?”

“Yes, will he, Alexis?” Nikolas walked wearily into the room. He was pale and haggard.

“Master Nikolas!” Mrs. Landsbury cried in alarm.

He reassured her with a small shake of his head. “I am alright, just foolishly hung-over,” he explained. “Would you fix me some coffee, please?”

“Of course, Master Nikolas!” She hurried toward the kitchen.

“Here, sit down.” Alexis cleared the nearest armchair. “This isn't like you.”

Nikolas shut his eyes and rested his head upon the back of the plush chair. “I am sorry. I do not know the protocol for behavior when one's father returns from the dead only to be arrested for staging his own death.”

“You just said ‘father', not ‘uncle'.”

“Did I?” Nikolas pushed the hair back from his forehead.

When he seemed unwilling to continue, Alexis rose and poured him a glass of cold water. “I saw Stefan earlier,” she began, turning back toward her nephew.

Nikolas sat doubled over, silently rocking back and forth. Alarmed, Alexis dropped the glass she held and rushed to his side. She knelt before him and threw her arms around him. Wordlessly she offered him comfort as he sobbed, all the while cursing Stefan in her mind.

“Why?” he cried, lifting his tear-stained face to her. “Didn't he know,” his voice broke, “didn't he know I would grieve for him?”

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