Maria looked over at Michael, who had, surprisingly, eaten the rest of Katie's sundae without complaint (usually there was something, 'this is terrible, you expect people to eat this stuff?' 'Have any more Tabasco?' or 'gee Maria, you didn't spit in it or anything did you? It tastes awful!').

They sat in almost complete silence. Isabel seemingly in deep thought. Michael contemplating the sundae and the girl's parting words. They had sounded familiar to him, Maria could tell. The look on his face was pensive, straining for something that was there, but not quite within his grasp. She wished she could let him in on the wonderful knowledge she now possessed, the peace that filled her, yet she knew she couldn't. Her eyes fell on Max, usually the voice of reason, and the stepping-stone to the solution. Not today. His look was tortured, she knew of the vision, of course she hadn't been there, or seen it herself, but he was so withdrawn, and she understood, to some extent, what he had seen. He couldn't, wouldn't understand it. Maria sighed. House of glass- that's what Katie had said. Don't throw stones.

Michael stood up and walked towards the counter, he fumbled with his wallet and looked over at her. "Everything?" she asked, "or just you?"

"Everything," he replied, looking at her curiously. She rang the meals up on the register and looked at him, smiling secretly. "$22.87," she said. He handed her a twenty and a five. She took it and smiled, holding out the change.

"Keep it," he said gruffly, he reached into his pocket, "she left this for you," he said, handing her a small wad of bills and a note.

"What's it say?" Maria asked, looking at the note.

Michael shrugged, "It's yours, I didn't read it."

Maria nodded, turning away. Michael turned to leave, pausing to bid goodbye to Isabel and her brother. Maria sighed as she felt him leave. She would wait, because her Katydid had told her so. "Lizzie, can I go home or do you still need me?" she asked, turning to her friend. It was almost six by then, and Maria was incredibly tired.

"Why? Maria, are you ok?"

"Yeah, I'm fine, just really tired," she sighed, rubbing her forehead.

"Well, I guess you can go, get some sleep, okay? You look beat," Liz smiled, shooing her friend into the lounge to change.

A few minutes later Maria emerged in a blue t-shirt, jeans, and a black woolen pullover. Her bag was slung over her shoulder and she waved to Liz as she left.

"Bye Lizzie!" she called happily.

"See ya, Maria!" Liz smiled, "feel better!"

Maria nodded and headed home. It was her mother's day with the car, so she had to walk, but she didn't mind much. It was still warm, and she didn't live too far. She smiled at the warmth that surrounded her, the memories that weren't exactly hers.

She was the last of the transcendent few, from the ages of old. The same age where Katie had lived in, as well as Isabel, Max, and Michael. She smiled again. She knew more than the three for once. It always seemed like Max, Michael, and Isabel were in on secrets (along with Liz, she thought rather disdainfully) that she was left out of. She was an outsider in their little group, pushed into their secret unwillingly. Despite her semi-anger that surrounded the whole situation (being almost helpless most of the time was the main source of frustration) she had to admit, if it hadn't happened she probably would have never gotten the chance to know Isabel Evans, and that, Maria thought brightly, would have been terrible.

She heard words he'd said ages ago to her, or, who she had been ages ago. 'No matter where, or when, or why, I know that I love you, and I think that you love me. So it doesn't matter what happens, I'll watch over you.'