"Don't forget to pack my cloak, hon. Okay?" Belulhe asked distractedly. She paused in the doorway a brief moment to flash her daughter a quick smile before rushing back to her own packing in another room. Hope rose from the bed dutifully, picked up the cloak lying on the bed and began to fold it to fit it into the packing box. Hope's lips curled into a mischievous smile as it dawned on her why the cloak was unusually heavy. She slipped her fingers into one pocket and found it empty. The next pocket produced a muffled squeal of delight as her fingers slipped around her mother's thick leather-bound journal. Carefully and reverently she extracted it from the cloak pocket. Her eyes darted around the room to make sure no one would interrupt her. She flipped through several well-worn pages before catching a glimpse of her father's name scribbled in her mother's familiar handwriting. The tattered book gave a diminutive squeak as she opened it fully to read:

Year 350, Day 230, Month 6

Today Shandy and I went on a picnic. He chose a beautiful garden in Shard. It took forever to get there from Haven. I thought I was gonna keel over with fright right there on the Gondola. I hate that thing! I envisioned both of us plunging to our deaths. Shandy, sensing my panic, slipped his hand in mine and I immediately felt calm again. The death trap was worth enduring though. The blooms in the garden were wonderfully fragrant and he'd packed a lunch fit for a king. I was so surprised when he pulled out several Elven treats from the basket. He's so thoughtful! I wonder how Humans comprehend the Elven Way. Anyway, Shandy has shown me more than once that he can read my thoughts with little effort. It makes me crazy! It makes me love him even more than I thought possible.

"Hrm..." Hope grinned thoughtfully. Scanning through several more pages, some capital letters caught her eye and she began to read another passage. She read:

Year 353, Day 125, Month 4

Had to run to the Empath today. Shandy took me. I'm so big now I can't get out of my own way. I think maybe I'm carrying a baby 'Tog. It's impossible of course but I AM HUGE! Can't remember the last time I went hunting. I miss hunting. The pain got so bad I had to stop and rest several times. Caylia touched me and said everything was fine and that the baby would be here soon. We were both relieved to hear her comforting words and we teased her again about knowing the sex of the baby. She's so kind and sweet... and SKINNY. Well, the whole thing scared me to death but I kept it to myself. Made myself nuts wondering if I could handle this given all that I've been through. I think maybe I can't, but it's kinda too late now.

I keep remembering Shandy's face when I told him about my firstborn. How he listened patiently as I told him about the loss I felt over never getting to hold her close or let her know how much I loved her. It's an indescribable feeling to know that she's still out there somewhere with that beast -- her father. I'm certain he's warped her mind. She probably thinks that I'm some kind of monster for leaving her behind. She'll never know that I had no choice in the matter at all. It's an odd feeling to have that deep a connection to someone you've never met.

Hope bit her lip gently, squelching the tears she felt welling inside her. She swallowed hard and thought to herself, "Poor Mommy."

"Five more roisen. Are you almost done in there?" questioned Belulhe from the other room.

"Yes Mommy. Almost done," she replied evenly, masking her preoccupation with what she'd just read. She forced herself to read one more page, struggling with her emotions. She took another quick look around the room and then another at the timepiece still ticking within the packing box. "Plenty of time," she thought to herself and turned several pages more of the journal to near the end of the book. Seeing her father's name again drew her to read:

Year 356, Day 217, Month 6

Today is the two-year anniversary since Shandy's departure to the far reaches. I find myself often frustrated to the point of tears that I cannot explain to our friends and family what happened. To do so would put everything he worked so hard for in jeopardy. I have resigned myself to silence, comforted by the fact that he is alive somewhere and haunted by the fact that he will never return. I lit a candle in his honor. It has been a long and arduous journey to reach this point of healing. I can finally enjoy our memories without pain. When I look back at all of my experiences -- both good and bad -- I can't help but feel grateful for each memory. They have made me who I am today. They have made me strong enough to face what lies ahead and to appreciate what joy may come.

Breathing in her Mother's encouraging words, Hope closed the book quietly. With covetous fingers she caressed the journal before placing it back in the cloak pocket and then packed it away in the box. Patting the cloak restlessly, she whispered in a tone laced with resignation, "Yes, it is time for us to move on, Mother." She paused briefly as a smirk slowly formed upon her lips before continuing her thought. "But make no mistake.... We're not finished with the past."