Benin at all but moved in with Professor Shapashnikov. Their relationship wasn't particularly passionate, nor in fact sexual. Although Benin sometimes...shared his bed, they'd never made love. The most that'd happen between them was to wake up in the morning still holding hands from the night before. They appreciated someone to hold.Rhykov hated meetings. He leaned back in his chair trying to get the attention of the Stenographer. She remained imune to his gaze, however, and, head down, scribbled. And there before him stood an attractive blonde older woman. "We didn't get to talk at the cemetery....I'm so sorry, Matthew."He thanked her politely as he had all the others, not knowing who she was or how she knew his father. "Matthew, I'm Hannah March...I'm, um, I'm your mother."The young man's eyes bulged like a goldfish's and he broke out in a cold sweat. How on earth did he respond to a woman his father's stubbornness had forbade him from ever having contact with by phone or email, let. More

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