Twenty-one year old Frank Hardy lay with his eyes closed, not fully awake but not fully asleep either. He was Frank Hardy again, for the most part, a young man who had lived through a stint in hell. His dreams the last two nights had brought back a good chunk of his missing memories, although some things, he could tell, were still missing.  

He even remembered most of the sessions with Kambarov. The man was truly good at his job, gifted even. Using a mixture of mind-altering drugs and hypnosis, Kambarov had almost completely erased fifteen years of Frank’s life. The one thing he hadn’t taken into consideration was Frank’s strong bond with Joe. Unknown to Frank, that little oversight had cost Kambarov his life when Stefan heard about his brother calling out in his sleep. Calling out for someone named Joe.  

When Frank finally decided to wake up, it was his father who was sitting in the room with him.  

“How are you feeling?” Fenton asked.  

“Better.” Frank pushed himself up on one elbow and stared at his father. He had been so very reluctant to trust Fenton, not quite able to believe that not every father was like his real one. “Have you and Mom ever regretted it?”  

“Never. Did you know we were turned down thirteen times for domestic adoption?”  

Frank shook his head “no”.  

“It was your great-grandfather Morrison’s idea to try Russia . The first profile we saw was you. We never once thought about another child, it was you from the very beginning.”  

“Stefan said I’m just a paper child, that it doesn’t really count,” Frank said quietly.  

Fenton sighed softly, silently cursing Stefan Gregov. “In the eyes of the law, it is just paper. But it takes more than blood to make a family, son. Just because you share DNA with someone doesn’t make you a family.” He paused a moment to let the words sink in, knowing Frank was now thinking about Laura’s parents and the absent relationship the boys had with their only living grandparents.  

“That wasn’t your fault, Frank,” he gently reminded the boy. “All of that happened before Joe was born, when Michael disappeared.”  

“Why don’t they like me?” Frank asked, his voice sounding small.  

“I don’t know for sure. Gramps thought it was because you look an awful lot like Michael, and they didn’t want to be reminded of what they lost. Your mom thinks they just didn’t like the idea of us adopting from another country, and I vote for both.”  

Frank was looking out the window now, while he listened to the answer to his question. It had been burning in his mind for years, he just never could seem to catch one of his parents at the right time to ask them about it.  

Stefan’s words were still playing in his head.  

“Frank, I want to know exactly what he told you.”  

Quietly, Frank told his father all of the things Stefan had said, from the paper child remarks to the insults to saying Joe wouldn’t want him anymore. “I can forget everything except what he said about Joe.”  

Fenton thought a moment before responding.  

“Sounds to me like he’s jealous of Joe.”  

Frank snorted. “Yeah, right!”  

“I’m serious, Frank. I think he’s jealous of everything you have.”  

Frank met his father’s gaze. One of the reasons Fenton was such a crack investigator was his ability to read people, to get down to their motives and into the way they thought. “He’s always acted like he was jealous of me, now that I think about it. He said I took Mama away from him.”  

“In a way you did.”  

Frank’s mouth dropped open. He had not been expecting that!  

“Let me finish, son. Gertrude was jealous of me when we were growing up. She was thirteen when I came along, used to being the center of attention. We didn’t really get close until I joined the Marines and shipped out. She decided she missed me bothering her after school.”  

Frank smiled and laughed a little. His father had a very unique relationship with his older sister. Then he grew serious again. “I don’t want him in my life, Dad. Is that wrong?”  

“No. It’s normal, especially after what he’s done. He cannot take you out of this family, Frank. I’m afraid you’re stuck with us.”  

Frank sat up all the way and hugged his father tightly. “Good,” he whispered.  

Fenton held his son for a long time, overjoyed to have him back. Out of a desire not to spoil the moment, he stayed quiet about Stefan’s now confirmed getaway.  

This wasn’t over.

***  

The day after Frank arrived home, still weak and tired but glad to be home, the steady stream of visitors began. Sam Radley and his wife Ethel were first since Sam had paperwork to do anyway. Then Jack Wayne, Hurd Applegate, Mrs. Winterby from across the street, the Mortons, the Pritos, Phil and his mother, Biff, Vanessa, Con Riley. Even Chief Collig dropped by!  

At Joe’s suggestion, Callie decided to wait another day or two to give Frank a chance to settle back in. So on Saturday, she showed up ready to talk.  

Frank was on the living room couch, half asleep when she walked in. The house was quiet since Joe was on campus, but there was no mistaking that it felt alive again. Touching Frank’s shoulder, Callie sat down on the floor, her face level with his.  

“Hi,” she said softly.  

He smiled. “Hi. What took you so long?”  

“Joe said to wait until the rush died down.”  

That got a slight chuckle from Frank. “It’s been pretty crazy since Thursday. You first.”  

Callie nodded. “I am so sorry, Frank. I know the way I reacted to you telling me about Russia hurt you. Please believe me when I say I didn’t mean to hurt you. I think that was the biggest shock of my life.”  

“I believe you.” He smiled a little. “I’ve been around your dad enough that I didn’t want to say anything for fear of being forbidden to ever see you again. And I was afraid if I introduced myself by saying “Hey, I’m Russian”, you wouldn’t give me a second glance. And I didn’t want anyone to know.”  

That piqued Callie’s interest. “How come?”  

Frank chewed on his lower lip for a minute before answering. “The other kids on the street in New York teased me all the time. Some of them were downright mean about it. Mom’s parents have never even really acknowledged I exist. I don’t remember ever getting presents from them, and after Gramps, mom’s grandfather, died, we didn’t see her family at all anymore.”  

Callie slowly reached out and touched Frank’s fingers. He grasped her hand and Callie scooted in closer. “There are so many questions I want to ask you, but I’m not sure you would want to answer them right now.”  

Frank reached across Callie and picked up the blue scrapbook lying on the coffee table. Callie moved up onto the couch as Frank moved his legs, then set the book in her lap. “This is me before my mother died, where I lived, and the people I knew.”  

Callie opened the book, and together they looked through it. Laura had put the scrapbook together over the summer with the pictures Mrs. Damirov had given Frank in Moscow. Working on it helped to ease the ache of missing her child.  

“You look just like her,” Callie whispered.  

Frank smiled and rested his head on her shoulder. “You remind me a lot of her. The first time I ever noticed you, you were wearing a lavender pull-over sweater. That was Mama’s favorite color, she wore a lavender sweater just like that one, all the time except for summer.”  

“You remember that awful thing? I hated it and was so sure if a guy saw me in that he’d run the other way.”  

“I loved it.” He lifted his head and gazed into her eyes. “Joe thought you were a snob. I told him you couldn’t be all bad if you were wearing that color.”  

Callie smiled. “Joe was right, you know. I was a snob, still am too much of the time. If it hadn’t been for you and Iola, I would still be one.” She paused, closing the book. “Do you think we could maybe try this again?”  

Frank nodded and put his left hand on the side of her face, turning his body so he faced her squarely. “Slower this time, and with the understanding that I am not turning my back on Joe for any reason. I need him.”  

“And he needs you,” Callie answered softly. “We’re okay now, for the most part. I know that the you I love doesn’t exist without Joe in his life. I will do my very best to keep you from feeling as if you have to choose between us.”  

Frank smiled tenderly, lowering his hand to the back of her neck. He leaned forward and their lips met.  

The words Joe had spoken to him after his first fight with Callie flitted through his mind…”Love is always worth the heart ache, big brother. Unless you have to fight for it, it’s not worth it.”

The Hardy Boys belong to Simon and Schuster and the Stratemeyer Foundation. The authors have just borrowed them for an adventure or two. The authors promise to put the boys back when they are done with them. The authors do claim copyright to the original characters in this story. Please do not borrow original characters without express permission of the authors.