Epilogue

Boxes crowded Aaron's small room, stacked on her bed and her desk. Everything she could lay claim to, the entirety of her life, was packed into boxes- except the letter she was writing and her favorite pen, the end of which she stuck in her mouth and nibbled on while she contemplated how to finish the letter.

‘I want to visit you, one day, and catch up on all the time we've missed. I love you, dad.'

Aaron looked down at the letter for a moment, conflicted. Then she folded the paper in thirds, stuffed it in the pre-stamped envelope that was waiting, and licked it sealed before she could change her mind. Reaching into the closest box, she removed one of the dozens of letters her father had written her that year, so she could copy the return address. Her penmanship was perfect- even if she wasn't as steady as her hand.

"Aaron, love!"