All of a sudden he felt a strong grip on his hand and then he was immediately tugged by the sleeve, away from the road. Joe didn’t have enough time to realize what had happened when he felt the car’s metal wing brush past him, followed by the driver’s abuse.

Opening his eyes, dumbfounded Joe found himself securely wrapped in Fenton Hardy’s arms, standing just an inch away from where the car had torn along the road seconds ago.

"Are-are you alright?’ Fenton asked, looking down at the shocked teen in his arms.

"You…You again," Joe managed huskily, his eyes studying Fenton’s face, "you saved me for the second time already…" he swallowed hard.

"I guess I did…. You should be more careful when crossing the road, you know," he chuckled softly, but then again his face became serious as he continued staring at Joe, his heart going pit-a-pat. There he was, holding him in his arms after saving his life again, looking down into his terrified eyes and yet he was unable to do anything. "Oh my God, Joey…." he whispered moments later.

But just as Fenton was about to pull him close and give his son a bear hug, Joe suddenly tore himself from his embrace and started to back away, never taking his eyes off the man.

"Joey, please…." Fenton reached out his arm to him. "Please, don’t go away. Not now that I've found you, not when you are misled to believe in total lie. Please, let’s talk and sort things out."

"Go away," Joe replied quietly, still backing away from him. "I'm asking you, just leave me alone…. That’s too much for me to handle." Turning around on his heels, he started running away from the alley, leaving miserable Fenton behind.

"Joe, please! Please, don’t run away!" Watching him disappear, Fenton knew he would never catch up with him, not only was he too worn out, but Joe was too fast. "At least tell me where you’re going??!" he shouted, hoping Joe would be able to hear him.

He heard no reply.

Frank was nervously passing the living room back and forth, waiting for the phone to ring. Even though he was called several hours ago and told that his father would be late, he still expected him to phone, feeling that something was happening and yet not knowing what it was. Laura Hardy, still not completely recovered from the previous day’s news, had already gone to bed, asking her son to inform her in case Fenton called. Still, Frank had nothing to tell her. Glancing at the watch, he sighed. It was past midnight. With gnawing suspense, he gave up waiting and grabbed the phone himself.

"Fenton Hardy," he heard his father’s sad voice say seconds later.

Frank instantly felt a weight off his shoulders, "Dad, it’s me, Frank. What’s going on? Where are you? Why didn’t you call?"

"Frank…. What are you doing up at midnight? You should be in bed by now," Fenton said monotonously.

"Dad, what happened?" Frank frowned, hearing notes of deep sadness in his voice. "Where are you? Couldn’t you call? We’re worried sick about you."

"Sorry, son," Fenton felt so stupid as he remembered how he had dreamt of a surprise for Frank and Laura and hadn’t phoned them himself because of that. "I'm in New York. Nothing happened, don’t worry. I'm fine."

"What are you doing there?" Frank asked, knitting his eyebrows.

Been looking for your brother, almost escaped Fenton’s lips, but instead he replied, "Some business, nothing important… Almost."

"Why are you so distant?"

"Distant?…Never mind, Frank," Fenton waited for some moment, searching for words, "look, I'll explain everything later, ok? Please, don’t ask me about anything now."

"Dad, what the hell happened after all?" Frank coaxed. "Can’t you tell me?"

"Son, why won’t you go to bed?" Fenton almost pleaded. "I need to finish some things here…."

"In the middle of the night?"

"…and I'll be home in the morning, talk to you then, ok?" Fenton went on, not paying any attention to the interruption. "I’m fine, really. Don’t worry."

"I know that something is happening, isn’t it? You would tell me if it really wasn’t anything important," there was only one thing he could think of. "Dad, tell me, did-did you find him?" Frank asked, his heart stopping beating.

"No, Frank, I only lost him again," Fenton heavily sighed. "Go to bed son, ok? We’ll talk about everything in the morning when I'm back."

"What?!!"

"Good night, son."

"Dad…." Frank tried to argue, though deep inside he knew it was absolutely useless.

"What, Frank?" he heard his father ask in an emotionless voice.

Frank sighed, he was right, it was a defeat, "Nothing."

He heard short beeps. He looked down at the receiver and frowned. Lost him again? He had a bad feeling that something unpleasant had happened and it obviously had something to do with his long-lost brother. Frank put his index finger into his mouth and started biting it, bad thoughts swirling in his mind. He glanced at the phone again, but had to decide against it, he knew he wouldn’t get his way tonight. Damn it, what could’ve happened? kept running through his head over and over again.

Knowing he would get no answers to his question, Frank had to admit his defeat. Having nothing else left to do but guess and wonder and wait till the morning, he walked upstairs to his room. Too anxious, he spent an hour tossing and turning in his bed, but then his tiredness took the best of him and he fell into uneasy sleep.

Just as Joe entered the Owens’ house, he instantly heard someone’s hasty steps coming from the living room. The next moment he saw a disheveled Mary Owen.

"Oh my God, Joe!! It’s you! You’re back!!" she cried out, rushing to him and throwing her arms around him. "Thank God you’re okay! Where have you been? Why did you leave? Why didn’t you tell us? Didn’t you know how worried we’d be?"

"I'm sorry, Mary, I didn’t mean to scare you," Joe said sincerely, shamefully looking down at his boots. He was so engrossed with himself that he didn’t even think the Owens would be very agitated about him. "I just wanted to spend some time outside. Sorry."

"You should have told us!" Mary said, her hands on his shoulders. "We were so worried! What if something happened? Are you ok?"

"Yes, I'm fine…." he raised his eyes to look into her eyes. "Sorry…sorry for troubling."

"Troubling? You had us mad with worry! Bob and those two men went to search for you, it’s been more than 3 hours. Oh, do you understand how scared we were?" she asked, pulling him close again. "Oh my God, what am I saying? Telling you off when I'm just so glad you’re not hurt," she gently stroked his cheek. "Where have you been?"

"I was not far away from here, I just wanted to spend some time alone. I know I should have told you, but I didn’t want to bother… Sorry."

"It’s okay, my boy, it’s okay now. Do you feel better now?"

Very, Joe thought sarcastically, smirking to himself. After what had happened he was afraid he would never ever feel better. "Somewhat," he replied nevertheless, not wanting to worry the woman.

"Good. There were two people here, two men, I don’t remember their names, said they needed to talk to you badly. That’s when we found out you were gone. It was so kind of them to agree to help Bob look for you."

"Two men?" Joe asked, surprised. Fenton Hardy and who else? Oh, that Chief, he guessed. Inseparable friends. "Did they say what they wanted?"

Mary shook her head, "Only that they wanted to talk to you. Will you wait for them? But you must be so tired, maybe you should go to bed? I'll tell them to come in the morning and…."

"No," Joe stopped her. "Please tell them that I won’t talk to them."

"Why so?" Mary asked, surprised.

"I just…. I have already talked to Fenton Hardy. He said…told me everything… So if he comes here, tell him to…to just get away, to go back to his Bayport and not to come back after me no matter what. In case he asks, just say I'll…I'll contact him when or even if the time comes."

"What are you talking about?" Mary knitted her eyebrows, intrigued.

"Just say it. Please?" Joe asked her. "Don’t ask about anything."

"All right, my sweet, as you like it. Now go to bed and have some rest. I'll call Bob and tell him you came back. He was so worried about you. We all were. What happened?"

"Just a bad dream, " Joe said and suppressed a yawn which didn’t escape Mary’s notice.

"Go upstairs, my boy. It’s so late and considering everything that’s been going on you must be so tired. Please, if you need anything, whether a glass of milk or go out for some time, let me know, ok, sweetie?"

Joe nodded and went upstairs to his room, hoping to sink into a sleep and distract from everything. Little did he know he’d spend just another restless night.

Through his slumber, Frank thought he’d heard something. He opened his eyes with difficulty and was surprised to see that the day was already dawning. He was about to glance at his watch to see what time it was when another sound caught his attention. He arose from his bed, listening to what was happening. He thought he’d heard someone downstairs. Cautious, he quietly left his room and went to check. Looking down from the top of the stairs he saw his father’s coat on the tab.

His sleepiness has vanished as if by magic. Coming downstairs, he found Fenton Hardy in the kitchen, making tea. Hearing his son’s steps he raised his tired, dark-ringed eyes at him.

"Don’t tell me you were up all night, waiting for me," he said hoarsely, getting a cup from the cupboard. "Want some tea?" receiving the positive reply, he went on, "even your mother got used to the fact that I might be absent from time to time."

"I wonder if she would be asleep if she knew just why you were absent," Frank pointed out, sitting down on a chair. "So, how much longer will you keep me wondering?"

"Frank, I am so tired," Fenton looked pleadingly at his son. "Please, just give me some time to rest. I'm in no state to discuss anything at the moment," he said, putting a cup of steaming tea in front of him. Taking the other one into his right hand, he turned to leave.

"Don’t tell me you’ll be drinking tea while sleeping," Frank stopped him. When his father didn’t even move, Frank sighed, "Dad, don’t be like that. Talk to me."

"Frank, please, don’t…. This is so difficult to talk about…."

"You found him, didn’t you?" Frank asked quietly and swallowed. "I know you did."

"If only that was enough," Fenton bitterly replied and shook his head. "Gosh, I never thought it would be like that… Anything, but not like that."

"Like how?" Frank asked, watching his father who kept staring at one point somewhere on the table.

"There isn’t much to tell you," Fenton said and sat opposite his son. He put his cup in front of him and put his face into his hands. "Who’d have thought it that it would end this way?" he asked gloomily, talking mostly to himself.

"End?" Frank asked, swallowing. "What do you mean end?"

"He hates me. He was led to believe it was all my fault and now he doesn’t even want to give me a chance to explain him everything…. He won’t even let me near him…. I expected anything, anything! but not that."

"Who? My…my brother?" Frank asked, his heart beating like mad.

"Yes, Frank, your brother."

Frank’s mouth dropped open. So he now had a brother! He blinked his eyes several times, trying to collect his many thoughts. "My brother? You mean you found him? Did you? Tell me, Dad, did you?" he asked, his lips curling into a grin. "Dad, you have to tell me everything!"

"Frank, look at me. Can’t you see that this is not a happy story?" Fenton asked him in a sad voice. "To put it mild," he bitterly added, recollecting what had happened at night.

"What happened?" Frank asked, his smile vanishing from his face. "Please, Dad, tell me!"

Fenton took the cup back into his hands and stared at it, collecting his thoughts, "Frank….Promise me you won’t tell Mom anything of what I say."

"Why?" Frank was taken aback.

"You’ll understand why. It’s just….There’s just no reason to upset her so much. If everything gets better, of course I'll tell her straight away, but it’s not now…" he bit his lower lip in frustration.

Frank suddenly felt awkwardly. His father couldn’t be this miserable after finding his son if something terrible didn’t happen. "Dad, what is it?" he quietly asked, deep inside afraid to hear the answer.

Fenton took a sip from his cup and waited for some moments. But just then he felt like he couldn’t keep it inside anymore, his words about everything, every little detail he had remembered over the last 24 hours, every movement, thought, sound started gushing out of him like the water out of a fountain. He didn’t want to go through that again, but he simply couldn’t stop himself from crying his heart out.

"…And when I came back to their house, his wife told me he didn’t want to see me, that he had asked me to never bother him again, to just go away and never come back…. I thought I would collapse right there. Gosh, I had spent so much time, searching and praying, trying not to give up and hoping that one day I'd find him. And what? What happened when I finally did? He rejected me! Closed the door and threw the key away, left me out of his life, shut me out!…. What was I supposed to do? I swear I wanted to run upstairs, get him, give him a ticking-off, make him listen…but then again…who am I? I'm no one to him. He despises me…." Fenton took a sp from his cup to moisten his parched mouth. "And so I had to leave, lose him again, probably without a chance to tell him how much I missed him, how much I loved him, how much I needed him…. You can’t imagine what it was like to see his eyes, full of hatred, fury, looking at me. Me, his father!!… God, what is happening? And why? What did I do so wrong to deserve it?" he rose his eyes, full of despair, at his son. "Frank, tell me, what did I do to deserve it?" he asked quietly, his voice shaking with tears. "What?"

"Dad…" was all Frank, who kept silent all this time, managed over a lump in his throat. He couldn’t feel the ground beneath his feet, this was too difficult, too strange, too knotty to be real. That Joe Stevenson, his brother?? Who’d have thought it? And then this night’s events… "Dad…Oh my God, Dad…." he repeated several times, unable to understand anything of this mess.

"This is so crazy," Fenton whispered. "And I see no way out…. He won’t even to me….or you or Laura….You know, when I didn’t know it was him, that he was so close to me, I had faith, hope that I would somehow find him, take him home and we’d be a family…and now that I know and he knows…it’s just…it would be a miracle if he changes his mind…."

"Are-are you sure it’s not a mistake? Maybe, just maybe it’s not him?"

"No, everything tallies, everything! And so what?" he bitterly chuckled and shook his head miserably. "He still doesn’t want to know anything…. He hates me, do you understand? Hates me….and I love him….just like a father loves his son. And I want him back with me….and he still hates me…."

Frank was at a loss. How was he, shocked himself by such news, supposed to help his absolutely distraught father? He tried to think of something to say to him, but Frank seriously doubted any words could make Fenton feel better at the moment. "Dad, it can’t be this bad…." he still tried. "Maybe…. maybe you should give him time?" he suggested. "I dunno, maybe you should talk to him sometime later, when it all sinks in… Maybe it’s going to be ok in the end?"

"Frank, you don’t understand… I don’t want to vex him, don’t want to bother him… But at the same time I want him to be with me…. Double trouble," Fenton bitterly chuckled and finished his tea. "I'm at a total loss, Frank. Search me, but I have no idea what to do…." he rubbed his eyes tiredly. "This is so maddening…. I see no way out….." Fenton shook his head as he put his face into his hands. "Man, I don’t know what I am doing anymore. I shouldn’t have told you…"

"Why? You couldn’t keep it inside, besides…."

"I have already gotten up to every sort of stupid tricks…. First Laura, so sad and upset, then Joe, hating me, now you, fed up with my problems… Didn’t even ask how you felt about the news…"

"It’s not your problem, it’s ours!" Frank argued. "And as for how I felt… Strange, just strange, you know, it’s a bold out of the blue for me. It’s so confusing, but… but, well, I think we’ll cope with it, won’t we?" he forced a cheerful smile for his father.

‘You’re such a good boy," Fenton replied, managing a weak smile for his son, too. "Damn, what’s with me? Behaving like an old man…" he tiredly chuckled, but soon his face saddened again. "Frank, Laura can’t know, ok?" he warned his son. "Under no circumstances must she know about what is happening!"

"But she’s involved in this too!"

"No, no, not now," Fenton eagerly shook his head. "She won’t be able to handle it, you don’t understand, she’s a mother, he means the world to her and if she knows he doesn’t even want to know her name…. We can’t put her through this."

Frank couldn’t disagree. "But what if everything turns out ok? What if some time later he understands everything and…"

"You’re kidding, right? How can he understand everything if we, in his mind, got rid of him? He won’t listen to me and if doesn’t know anything…." Fenton shook his head. "If only he tried to let me explain, to knock the nonsense out of him…"

"Did he stay with the Owens?"

"Of course, who else could he stay with?… With us, of course, but…. You know, I feel so foolish, I thought it would be best day of my life and instead it became one of the worst ones…" he derisively chuckled. "I’m such a fool."

The kitchen was plunged into silence as both men were got trapped in their own thoughts. The only sound heard of the ticking of kitchen clock, showing 5 in the morning.

"What are you going to do now?" Frank asked moments later, gazing at his father.

"Nothing! There’s simply nothing I can do."

"But you can’t leave it like that."

"Think of something better if you can… I'm so tired of it all, so confused, so…I dunno, it seems to me that I simply can’t handle it. For the first time in my life I can’t handle a situation, which is vitally important to me."

"No, Dad, stop it!" Frank exclaimed, worried by the fact that Fenton was so easily giving up. "What’s with you? You found him! Think about it, you found him! Damn it, the worst is behind, you know who he is, where he is, how he is, you name it. And all you have to do now is wait till he cools down and then explain him everything and…."

"And this is going to be the most difficult thing to do," Fenton finished for him. "If not impossible."

Frank sighed helplessly. His father was not himself. "It is possible. It must be," he said firmly. "And I'm gonna prove you of this. Don’t know how, but I am."