It was a chilly afternoon, when she came for her, the leaves had just begun to change in Odessa, and the weather forecaster had predicted an oncoming cold front.

The child was only nine, and had run to her sanctuary after discovering the truth, surrounding her birth, her adoption. She wasn't far from home, about a quarter of a mile, but she was disorientated. Young Claire Bennet, saw the world through new eyes, she saw it for what it was.

The blonde was furious, how could they never tell her that she wasn't theirs? Why hadn't her birth parents wanted her? Why did this happen to her? In these instances, Claire Bennet wished only to bring her parents pain, both of them, after all, that was what they had done to her.

"You won't fix anything by crying Claire," a detached voice said; to which Claire saw the blurry figure of a woman. Had she been crying this whole time? A quick look down at her wet shirt told her that she had, and judging by the knot in her throat, it had been pretty fierce.

"H-how do you know my name?" Claire asked, tripping over her words in shocked curiosity. The blonde girl reached up to wipe the tear from her green eyes, and met a hazel pair that belonged to a rather posh looking older woman.

"Claire, I have known you since birth, I've been protecting you," the woman said, sounding impatient as she extended a gloved hand to the girl and motioned for her to take it.

Claire was nervous, her parents- if they still counted as that –had warned her of the danger that a stranger presented. Staring at the thin hand for a minute, Claire rubbed her tongue against her braces deciding what to do.

Suddenly, the small fibres that engulfed the surface of her tongue caught on the rough metal, cutting through the tissue. "Ouch," she whispered, but just as soon as it had come, the pain was gone, no blood seeping through her mouth, nothing.

"Did you hurt yourself child?" the woman asked, her hand still extended, as she swiped away a stray strand of her silk black hair.

"No," Claire replied, grabbing the woman's hand, "not in the slightest."

The pair walked the small distance back to the creamy chocolate house of the Bennet family.

"I thought," Claire said, with a distraught expression, "why are you taking me back?" Claire was nervous now; the quick moment in which she had expected to be taken away had passes, leaving only the growing feeling of worry.

"Now, now, I expected you smarter than that, you can't just leave here, without telling anyone where you'll be off to." She gave Claire an exasperated expression, then said something under her breath, that sounding an awful lot like, "You are your father's child."

The whole situation suddenly seemed idiotic to Claire, kids get told that they were adopted every day, and so what if she was? It had been foolish of her to take the woman's hand, and the nine year old only hoped that she would not bring harm to her family.

Noah Bennet answered the door, looking relieved to see Claire, but perplexed at the woman beside her. "Claire-bear, we were worried sick," he said as he embraced her, "I'm so sorry that I upset you, I love you!" he exclaimed, holding her tighter than before.

The woman cleared her throat, and Noah was brought back to the current situation. Standing up, he addressed the woman wearily: "Thank you so much for bringing her back to us, please come inside." The woman merely pursed her lips and followed him inside the house. It didn't escape Noah's attention that he still hadn't let go of Claire.

"Claire, why don't you go upstairs and play, I think the adults need to talk," Noah said tiredly, rubbing his glasses against his light blue button up.

Claire was eager to oblige, merely glad that she wasn't in trouble with her father. With one last glance at the two adults, she scuttled up the stairs.

"My wife Sandra is just getting dinner ready if you'd like to stay," Noah said lightly, "Oh, where are my manners, I'm Noah Bennet, and you are?" he asked, hoping she was simply a random stranger walking the streets.

The woman spoke, "I know who you are Noah, and I have been watching your family for quite some time. I'm here for Claire," She spoke as if what she was saying was the most common thing in the world.

Noah gaped at her words, before reaching for the stun gun in his jacket pocket, "Who are you and what do you want with her?" Noah asked angrily, his tone hushed, so as not to alert Sandra to any predicament, as he aimed the device at his company.

"My name is Angela Petrelli, and I think that it is time that Claire lived with her real family," Angela was calm in the face of danger, and looked at Noah skeptically, "To put it simply, I placed her in your care briefly, and now I want her back."

Noah stared her down before realizing exactly what he was doing, "Please don't take her, we love her so much." He begged, his eyes sad at the thought of loosing his daughter.

"She was given to you with the promise that you would not get attached," Angela said curtly, her hazel eyes unfeeling, "so do yourself a favor, and give her to me, before I am forced to take higher measures."

Noah nodded, "Just give us a minute to say goodbye," he pleaded, hoping that maybe he could hide her, keep her until she was legally an adult, and see her grow up.

"I'm afraid I do not have time for you to attempt to keep her from me any longer," Angela replied, heading up the stairs to tend to her granddaughter.

"Dear, pack your things, we'll be on the first flight out to New York," Angela said, without the slightest hesitation in her voice.