[Author's Note: Sorry, this one is a little short. I wanted to write more but I also realize I haven't been publishing as much as I should. I promise to work on that and make the next few chapters longer]

[Also, I plan to do a lot of OC stories but I will definitely try to get more Sizzy and Clace action in here as well]

_

"What are you still doing up?"
Penelope looked up from her pile of clothes on the floor to see her older brother standing before her.
His smile was warm and his voice was gentle, but his eyes were stormy. Penelope knew her brother better than anyone, and something had clearly upset him. He, of course, would never tell her what it was. Nate was just like that; always keeping things to himself, carrying the burden so she wouldn't have to.
Since their parent's death, he had been a rock for her. He was strong and dependable; never faltering. It was frustrating though; Penelope could easily read her brothers eyes and movements, but his thoughts were locked away in a place far beyond her reach. It was strange how they could be so close, yet so distant.
"Just unpacking the rest of my clothes," She grabbed a floral skirt off the ground and started folding. "Where were you just now?" She watched his calm expression shift ever so slightly out of the corner of her eye.
"I was just taking a stroll around the Institute." He sat down on the floor across from her, grabbing a white blouse from the pile.
"Right." It was hard to keep the irritation out of her voice. She got up with a sigh, facing her brother.
He'll never tell me what's on his mind, will he?
"What, you don't believe me?" He had a look of amusement on his face, but there was a nervous edge in his voice.
"No," She turned and strode towards the door. "Not anymore."

_

Clary sighed and plopped herself down on the bed. It had been a long day of touristy stuff, shopping and later on, file work.
The file work wasn't supposed to take as long as it did but she had managed to entangle herself in the mystery that was Eleanor's massive file.
Her parents had died in a fire, but not a trace of them had been found afterwards.
"Well yeah," Simon had said when he was with her earlier helping her search. "They were probably burned to ashes and scattered to the wind."
But the fire hadn't even lasted that long. According to news reports, the London fire department had arrived almost immediately. They had managed to douse the flames and salvage most of the house and its possessions.
But Clary didn't tell Simon that. She had just sat there silently, staring at the article in her hands.
Was it possible that Eleanor's parents might still be alive? And if so, why would they hide that from their daughter? Nothing added up.

Clary grabbed her sketchbook and pencils. Her mind was working a mile a minute.
She wasn't even sure what she was drawing until the almond shaped eyes stood out to her on the page.
Eleanor.