It had been six months since Michael Guerin swept in and out of Maria Deluca's life, giving her one perfect night, and then shattering her life completely.

She hadn't been the same since he'd left her that foggy November morning. She put on the facade, easily fooling Liz and Alex, still caught up in their own pain. It was simple to duck her mom-- she'd stayed at school most of the time, and kept as far away from the house as possible when she had to go home. They all saw Maria as she was supposed to be.

No one saw the Maria that WAS.

At night, she would lay in her bed, staring up at the ceiling and imagining that Michael was there again-- his hands exploring her, making her scream with pleasure. It was so real, she could SEE him, hovering over her, eyebrows pursed with concentration, lips curled into that adorable pout she'd always found so sexy. But she would reach out to touch him, and he would melt away, insubstantial as morning mist, and she'd be alone again. Then the tears would come, and the night would be wasted as she cried silently for hours on end.

The dark circles were easily hidden with concealer.

Hiding. That was her life now. One long game of hide-and-seek. "Find me if you can," she thought absently.

But it was May now. College had let out, and she was stuck at home. Well, that wasn't true. She could travel around in her little red car-- see the sights, walk the walks. But it just didn't hold the interest for her anymore. Besides, there was her job at the Crashdown to think about-- one of the few things in her life that had remained constant from her days as an average teenager.

Not today, though. She couldn't take it today. She'd called in sick, and Mr. Parker had obliged her with the day off. She lay curled up on her bed, staring out the window with dull eyes, watching the world go by outside-- everyone looking so content, so happy with their lives. Not even suspecting that there was a girl watching them, dying from heartbreak.

Something in the back of her mind told her she should eat. She hadn't eaten in a while. When was the last time? Yesterday? A salad.

The thought of food made Maria queasy. No, she wasn't hungry right now. She would just lie here a little longer, and watch all the happy people walk by. Going home to their picture perfect rose gardens and accountant husbands, and all their little children with ten fingers and ten toes who had just learned to say "da-da."

God she envied them.

Closing her eyes, Maria shut out the images and closed in the tears. She was always crying! It made her thirsty and headachey. And her stomach was twisting again. She really should eat something, she figured.

But not right now. She was so tired right now. It didn't take long for her breathing to even out, and soon she had drifted away, visions of Michael Guerin pulsing behind her eyelids.

******

"Maria? Sweetie?" Amy Deluca knocked on her daughter's bedroom door as she stuck her head into the darkened room. "I've made some dinner, honey. You hungry?"

There was no response from Maria. Her sides were rising and falling with her steady breathing. Leaning her head against the doorframe, Mrs. Deluca watched her daughter sleep, and smiled. It seemed a shame to wake her up. But the girl needed some food in her-- she was far too thin. "Bad college food," Maria had explained. Well, she could fix that.

Moving into the room, Mrs. Deluca delicately sat behind her daughter and rested a hand on one shoulder. Shaking Maria lightly, she whispered, "Maria. Wake up, sweetheart. I made lasagna. Your favorite."

No response. "She must be very tired," Mrs. Deluca thought.

She shook a little harder, and spoke up. "Come on, sleepyhead. Time to get up!"

Still nothing.

Maria's mother was suddenly worried. Switching on her daughter's bedside lamp, she turned the girl so she was on her back. She gasped.

Maria's face and lips were pale, her breathing steady but shallow. Mrs. Deluca was shocked to feel how light her daughter was-- a featherweight. But that was all pushed out of her mind by one concrete thought.

Her daughther was dying.

"MARIA!" she screamed, shaking the unconcious girl once more. When she didn't wake up, her mother dove for the phone and punched in 911 with hands that shook so hard she could barely hold the receiver.

******

"MRS. DELUCA!" Liz called across the waiting room of Roswell General Hospital.

Maria's mother looked up from where she sat, anxiously staring at the floor. When she spotted the dark- haired young woman coming towards her, Alex in tow, her eyes brightened a little. Not enough to make an appreciable difference, but enough to show their presence was a comfort.

"Liz," she said shakily as the girl gave her a hug. "I'm so glad you came."

"We wouldn't stay away, Mrs. Deluca," Liz assured her as Alex gave the traumatized older woman a hug, too.

"What's wrong with Maria?" he asked anxiously as he pulled back, putting everyone's fears into words.

Maria's mother glowered. "No one in this damn hospital will tell me anything!" she growled. "My daughter, my baby, could be dying, and no one will tell me anything!"

Liz put a comforting arm around the older woman. "It's all right, Mrs. Deluca," she reassured. "I'm sure Maria is going to be just fine."

"Mrs. Deluca?" All eyes turned to the door as a tall, stately looking African-American woman in an immaculate white doctor's coat strode in, clipboard in hand.

Maria's mother stepped forward. "My daughter?" she asked anxiously. "How is she?"

The doctor-- her nametag distinguished her as Dr. Peters-- took the other woman's arm. "We should sit down for this, ma'am," she said softly.

Mrs. Deluca's eyes grew frantic as the doctor led her to a chair. "She's going to be all right, isn't she?" she pleaded frantically. "Please tell me she'll be all right!?" The worried looks on Liz and Alex's faces mirrored her fears.

Dr. Peters sighed. "We've managed to stabilize her condition. She's been moved into her own room for the time being, and we're keeping a close eye on her."

"What's wrong with her?" Liz asked. Dr. Peters turned an appraising eye on the young woman.

"May I ask who you are?" she inquired, taking in both Liz and Alex.

"These are my daughter's two closest friends," Mrs. Deluca explained shakily. "I asked them to come."

The doctor nodded in understanding. "Maria is suffering from malnutrition," she explained. "Just this side of starvation."

"Malnutrition?" Liz's voice mirrored the shock on Mrs. Deluca's face. "But, how?"

"If she's been away from home at college, it would be fairly easy to starve herself," the doctor explained. "Especially if she doesn't have a roommate-- no one to check up on whether she's been eating or not. Does your daughter have a history of eating disorders?"

"N-no," Maria's mother stammered. "No, she's always had a healthy appetite."

"Emotional problems?"

"She was depressed recently," Liz offered when Mrs. Deluca looked pleadingly at her. "She had a...a breakup with her boyfriend. But that was months ago."

Dr. Peters nodded. "That could explain it. This lack of nutrition seems to have been a slow process-- I doubt she stopped eating completely. She simply hasn't been eating enough. Frankly, I'm surprised the child is as healthy as it is."

All eyes turned on her sharply. "Child?" Mrs. Deluca exclaimed. "What do you mean?"

Dr. Peters' eyes widened, and she laid a hand on Mrs Deluca's arm. "Of course, you couldn't have known." She patted the other woman's arm comfortingly. "Mrs. Deluca, your daughter is six months pregnant."