"Petr says we're going to his party tomorrow?" Todd asks hopefully.

"Yeah. We'll drop by." Which reminds me: I need taxi money. I check my tip jar quickly to ensure we have enough to get there and back.

"Are we staying all weekend?"

"Probably not."

"But we'll go and stay for a while, right?"

"Yes, Todd," I say with a laugh. Going to my room, I close the door and change quickly then take a moment to assess the collage. It's almost done. The diner is closed on Christmas Eve and Christmas, so I'll have time to work on it tomorrow before we head to Petr's in the afternoon.

Debating how much more work I need to do, I take the laptop to the living room.

"Hey, can I show you something?" I ask. "You have to keep it secret. No telling Petr, even though you're BFFs."

Todd rolls his eyes.

"It's another of Anton's projects."

He brightens up and sits beside me on the couch. "What is it?"

I turn the screen to show him. "I can't decide if I should try a couple more layers or leave it alone."

Todd is smiling. "Petr will love it."

"Two of the pictures scanned grainy," I say, disappointed. "Do you think I should place them somewhere else or are they okay where they are?"

"I can't tell they're grainy."

I purposely didn't choose a holiday scheme for the display and went conservative, warm tones. "You sure they look okay?"

"Hello, insecurity," Todd grumbles.

"I'm not insecure! I'm a perfectionist."

"Whatever." He takes his seat on the floor next to the coffee table. "He'll like it."

Todd is more helpful than usual. I smile as I study the pictures again. "Remember you can't tell him."

"I know."

I go in to get our hamburgers then settle onto the couch with dinner to work on Anton's project.

The next morning, I wake up early, make my breakfast and immediately start working on the project. It's chilly in the apartment despite the heat being on, and I'm guessing it was the coldest night yet. Todd sleeps in past midmorning. When he emerges around eleven, he's fully dressed, down to his shoes. He has a backpack over his shoulder, and his pillow is strapped to it.

I'm still in pajamas and look at him quizzically. "Going somewhere?"

"To Petr's. It starts in an hour," he replies. "Did you save me breakfast?"

"Sandwich in the microwave."

"You're not ready," he observes as he passes by the couch.

"I want to finish Anton's project. I hadn't planned on us going until this evening," I say, half-truthfully. The idea of seeing Petr thrills me. I'd rather wait until the house is too full of people, though, so a second kiss doesn't happen. "We're not staying the night, either."

"Come on, Claudia!"

"Get used to it."

"Can I at least go at noon?"

"Alone?"

"Please, please, puh-leeeeeeeeese!"

I laugh at his expression.

"I'll cook dinner for a month," he says hopefully.

"Hmm ... maybe if you cleaned your room for a month, too," I tease.

He scowls. "Okay."

"Starting now."

Todd darts across the apartment, breakfast forgotten. I trust him at Petr's. I still have a problem being apart for most of the day, though. Ten minutes later, he announces he's done. I hesitate to give him permission. There was a time, not too long ago, he never would've asked to leave.

He's changed a lot the past month.

"I said I'm done!" he says for a second time.

"All right."

"I can go?"

"Yes. Go get taxi money out of the snowman jar."

"He'll pick me up."

"Todd!" I exclaim, twisting from my spot on the couch to see into his room. "You can't ask him to take time to come get you when he's putting on the party."

"He said I could," Todd says, looking up from his screen. "He said to call him if we need a ride."

I purse my lips and return to my computer, irritated with Petr. "He's way too nice."

"He likes us. He likes you."

"Stop there, kid." I've sensed several times Todd knows there's something weird between Petr and me. It's none of his business how I feel, and he knows exactly why I do what I do. I focus on my computer screen. Todd sits down beside me, texting.

"He says he can come get me in fifteen minutes and there's another three feet of snow out today," he reports. "Omigod! They have sleigh rides! With horses!"

I smile. "They're billionaires. I think they can have whatever they want."

"And peppermint hot cocoa and there's a present for everyone who comes! This is going to be the best Christmas ever!"

Todd gets excited about two things: Maya and Petr. I'm pretty sure both will be at the party. The horses and food can't hurt. I want him to be happy, and I regret not having the luxury of allowing myself the same happiness.

Pacing in excitement, Todd distracts me for a full fifteen minutes before announcing Petr is there to pick him up. He darts out of the apartment with his backpack despite my firm negative about staying the night.

Crossing to the chilly window with a blanket wrapped around me, I watch him climb into Petr's truck and close the door when I'm convinced he's safe. Moving to my couch, I pick up my laptop and then pause, eyes on the cell phone on the table.

With dread, I grab it and dial Simon's cell number rather than his office. His vacation started Monday. We last spoke Friday, and he had no news. Desperation, and the holidays, make me dial when I know it's not possible for him to have any updates.

"Simon," he answers on the second ring.

"Hey, it's me."

"Merry Christmas!"

"Thanks. You, too." I hesitate, hating the idea of sounding as desperate as I am.

"I have some good news!"

I blink, suspecting I heard incorrectly. "You know this is Claudia, right?"

"Yeah, kiddo, I do." He chuckles. "Got the call yesterday in the middle of dinner. The feds have what they need. One hundred and fourteen counts, and they're pretty sure the big ones will stick. They're arresting him next week. Even if he makes bond, he'll have an ankle bracelet until they haul his ass to court."

Speechless, I wait for him to say he's joking or maybe, they mean Christmas next year. After four years, the words bounce off me rather than penetrating. They're too surreal to process.

"Did you hear me, Claudia?" Simon prods.

"Yes," I manage hoarsely. "Yes. You're saying ... you're saying it's over? Like really over?"

"It's over. This will be the last Christmas you have to spend away from your mother."

"No, really."

"Really!" he laughs. "I've been praying you'd call soon, so I could tell you. It's your own personal Christmas miracle. Yours and Todd's."

"I can't believe it."

He says a few more sentences I don't register in a chipper tone. When he's quiet, I blink and focus.

"Thank you, Simon," I murmur. "My god ... thank you."

"I'd wait until after the arrest happens to start calling people," he advises. "Don't want to give him the motivation to leave town before Monday."

"Yeah ... sure. I understand." I hang up without saying farewell, too shocked to care about being polite.

For a very, very long moment, I sit in silence with the disposable phone my second this month in my lap.

It's over.

I've dreamt of these words for years. Rather than joy, I feel ... overwhelmed. Confused. Hating my way of life, it nonetheless became normal for me. I can't imagine returning to my old life and going back to college like every other student.

My life is permanently changed. I am permanently changed. Obsessed with day-to-day survival, I try to imagine a life without fear and draw a blank.

Except for Todd. He'll always be part of my world. And ...

Petr. If I could start over, build my life from scratch, I would begin with the man who makes my world a better place, who's shown more kindness to my brother and me than we've ever known. I'd like to think I make his life better, too, or he wouldn't be so interested.

I can't see anything else but them in my future.

My gaze goes to the laptop. I tap the mouse pad to wake it up. The smiling faces of Petr, Mikael, and Katya pop up on my computer.

I've been yearning to take a chance on him almost since we met, pushing him away while my heart crept closer and closer.

Why do I still experience fear? It's a different kind, warm instead of cold, but fear nonetheless. Fear of the unknown, uncertainty about the next step in my life. It was always clear before.

What happens when it's time to stop running? If I'm not moving forward, then where am I going? How do I learn to stay? What is real normal like, and how do I become it after everything I've been through?

My hands tremble. My thoughts are too raucous to make sense of, so I flip on the television to drown them out.

I can't ... process everything. I begin working on Anton's project once more. Something wet causes my finger to smear the mouse pad. I look down, puzzled, and watch as another droplet splashes onto my laptop.

Touching my wet cheek with my hand, I pull it away wet with moisture and realize I'm crying. I set the laptop aside. I'm shaking, overheating and also too cold, panicking and excited. Unable to contain the emotions any longer, I bury my face in a pillow on the couch and sob.

It takes me most of the day to get a hold of myself but finally, after Todd's fourth text asking me when I'm coming, I take a long, hot shower, hide the signs I've been crying with makeup and get ready to go.

A cab takes me through snowy streets to the edge of town. I'm not surprised to see the brightly lit Christmas trees lining the driveway to Petr's home. The drive is clear, and the courtyard area, as well as the front yard, are packed with vehicles. The driver drops me off at the front door, where a cheerful sign hangs.

Come on in!

I stare at it, start to laugh and then shake my head.

The design is mine, one of those Anton asked me to do. I thought he was playing around for the three weeks of projects.

The moment I step into the foyer, I spot the banner I made him hanging from the rafters supporting the second floor.

Happy Holidays!

"Crafty old man," I murmur.

The coatroom is open, and I place my jacket there. The house is huge; I don't blame them for coming to the door every time someone arrives. Likewise, I don't know it well enough to know where I'm supposed to go.

I head towards the kitchen and the sunroom where we had brunch. The house smells of food, and it looks like they added another layer or two of decorations everywhere. Twinkling lights, splashes of red, green, and gold, trees, presents, stockings and all kinds of winter decor pack the walls, line the hallways and clutter and dangle from every surface. There are groups of people, platters of food and places to sit in the formal rooms I pass. I don't recognize anyone at all, and the sense of not belonging bothers me.

The decorations cheer me up. In a place like this, after my phone call today, I can feel the exhilaration and magic of the holiday in a way I haven't since I was a kid. Though I still can't quite determine what I feel.