Isabel Evans woke from her dream to find a woman standing over her. She opened her mouth the scream, but a soft finger to her lips silenced her.

"Hush, Isabel," the woman smiled and vibrant blue eyes gazed down at her lovingly.

"Who are you?" she whispered, recognizing the woman's flowing silver hair from a long time before.

"You know," she smiled, touching the girl's cheek, "you just don't know yet."

"Tell me," the prudent blonde asked in a pleading tone.

"You will know soon," the silver hared woman said softly.

"I want to know now," Isabel replied.

"I know, child," the woman murmured, "you are ready, but the others are not…"

"Others?" Isabel asked curiously, "you mean Max and Michael."

"Yes," she smiled, "always the sharpest, my Isabel. Michael will be ready soon, but Max…" she trailed off.

"Lives in a house of glass," Isabel finished, "he's built it up for himself, and you're afraid to throw stones."

"Yes," she smiled at the girl. "I'm not permitted to throw stones, as you put it, my Isabelle, and I cannot stay here much longer."

"Don't leave me," she murmured, "please, I want to know…" Isabel felt tears touching her eyes.

"No, my angel, not yet. If you know now, the others will not. Be patient," she smiled, kissing the girl's forehead, "I am with you. Remember that, and that I love you, and will protect you with my very soul."

"Your very soul?" Isabel felt a flash of something shoot through her. Memory? Perhaps, but before she could receive an answer, the apparition was gone.