Of course, I had missed my funeral - Sade had said I'd slept for two days. Strangely, not having attended the service did not matter to me anymore. Sarah being home, however, did.

I had to figure out a way to let her know I was alive and that she needed to give the journal to Illidan. I had no idea how I was going to manage it, but I had to try. 

Although I was still stiff and sore, I flapped my wings and cawed loudly. 

"Looks like our guest wants to leave already," Zachary said, moving closer to me.

The children wailed "No!" but their parents told them it was the right thing to do. 

I hated causing them upset, but this was important and how, after all, could I keep my promise to them if I did not leave now?

I jumped onto Zachary's arm, still flapping my wings to test how they felt before I made the leap of faith. 

Ellen pulled Dane and Sade up against her apron, hushing them and rubbing their forearms affectionately.

I turned away as their father approached the rear door. The children's sobs echoed in my ears; it was heart-breaking. 

We stepped out into the garden as the rays filtering through soft clouds, telling me it was late morning.

I looked back into the kitchen. Dane and Sade were now at the doorway, watching, their bright blue eyes shimmering with tears. I never expected to have such an effect on the youngsters, especially when they barely knew the real me. It was blissfully warming, yet hugely woeful.

Zachary raised his arm, guiding me onto the wall which separated our gardens. My claws made little click-clack sounds as they alighted the stone. 

I could not bring myself to face the children again, so I fixed my stare on the bricks and windows of my house. My heart started to beat faster, louder with the anticipation of Sarah being within those walls, along with our son.

But, it was not just hammering with excitement; I was also absolutely terrified. I felt so close and yet so far from my heart's desire. 

What if she had decided to clear away all my belongings suddenly? Now the funeral was passed, it made my 'demise' concrete. How could she possibly maintain hope that I would return soon?

I fought to hold on to a hope of my own - if she did start to clear things away, there might be a better chance of her finding the journal in the process. 

My reverie was broken by Zachary shooing me, encouraging me to take flight.  I crouched then took off, spreading my wings.