"Abigail, sweetheart, wake up." I felt an arm on my arm, shaking me awake, "Niñita it's 10:30."

"I'm, up, I'm up." I turned over, weakly pushing myself up in bed, my throat was painfully dry, and my voice weak, and my hair stuck to my sweating forehead. I was sick, I mean, I had had a cough and sore throat for a couple days now, so, I wasn't surprised.

"Kiddo it's 10:30, you okay? You look, like, you died." He said, sitting on the edge of my bed.

"No, it's okay, I'm just sick that's all." I said, moving my hair off of my forehead.

"You're sick?" He asked, immediately replacing my hand on my forehead with his. "Oh crap you have a fever." He said quickly.

"It's okay, I've been sick for a couple days." I said.

"A couple of days?" He asked, tucking loose strands of hair behind my ear. "Why didn't you tell me?" He asked, seeming genuinely confused. I didn't get it, it was probably just a bug, should go away in a couple days, not a big deal.

"I didn't realize I was supposed to say anything, it's not like I needed medical treatment, I have a cough."

"Generally kids tell their parents when they're sick." He said.

"I didn't know that." I admitted, hanging my head a little.

"You're saying you never told anyone when you got sick?" He asked.

"Well, when I was really little I used to tell my, um, I used to tell Ryan and Linda, but Ryan kept telling me to suck it up, that there wasn't anything I could do but wait it out. They got annoyed whenever I said anything, and well, since then, I just don't tell people unless it's serious, and it's never been serious." I shrugged.

"Well, you're supposed to tell your parents, we can help, and you get sick day benefits, so, I'm gonna try and make you soup, and you're going to sit at the couch with five or six blankets, and you're going to watch old Disney movies. Come on." He grabbed my arm, and started pulling me out of bed. Eventually, I managed to get up, and he led me out of my room and into the living room. "Now sit." He instructed, gesturing to the couch, I sat down, trying not to laugh at Lin being all dad-like. Just as I was thinking this he pulled blankets over me. "I think this is how I deal with a fever. Right?" He asked himself. "Oh crap I don't know what I'm doing."

"No, it's okay, I don't know what you're supposed to do either." I tried to reassure him.

"So, like, no one has ever taken care of you when you were sick?" He asked, sitting down next to me on the couch, "no one made you soup, or brought you more tissues, or made you specially timed meals because you can't eat?" He asked.

"I don't know people did that." I admitted.

"What did people do?" He asked, obviously concerned.

"Ryan and Linda would occasionally keep me home from school, if it was obvious I was sick. But, none of the foster parents did anything about it, kinda just looked the other way."

"They wouldn't even keep you home from school?" He asked. "What if you were contagious?" He asked.

"If I was contagious, I would be sent to the nurse, who would call my parents, they alway had some excuse, like, I'm in a meeting, or something like that, then depending, I would go back to class or sit in the nurses office all day. "

"Okay, well, that's gonna change." He said, getting up from the couch. He walked over to the TV, "Hercules or Mulan?" He asked.

"Um," I had thought for maybe 4 seconds before he cut me off.

"I mean actually, it doesn't matter, because we're gonna get around to all of them." He put in one, and I had no idea which one it was. After he did that, he disappeared into the kitchen, and I pulled my phone out of my pocket.

I scrolled through Twitter and saw a lot of pictures from yesterday's EduHam. There were plenty of Lin and I at the end, right after I called him dad. Although, no one but him heard me, except, maybe Tommy, I'm not quite sure.

"Okay, I'm back, I made coffee, and I have soda." He set the soda down on the table next to the couch, and handed me the mug of coffee.

"Thank you so much." I said, taking a gulp from the mug. Oh I needed that. I looked up at the TV, and saw that Hercules was playing, I mean, the muses man. I took a picture of the coffee, and tweeted it.

@abigailleighmiranda - my dad made me coffee. He trusts me with his Garfield mug. I feel important.

I mean, I did. I was surprised Lin let me touch his Garfield mugs. Also, he made me coffee and that makes me feel important.

"Child." I heard Lin say, "get off the interwebs." I looked at him, he wasn't even looking at me, he was very intently watching the television, as if whether or not Hercules was going to save Meg from the disgusting swamp monster, was a matter of life and death for him.

"Fine." I said, putting my phone face down beside me.

"Thank you." He said, and I turned my attention back to the children's movie.

About 20 minutes later, I looked at Lin who was also, on his phone. I rolled my eyes a little, then felt the urge to check mine. I grabbed it from where it was sitting next to me and flipped it on.

@lin_manuel - It looks like this is my day. My kid's home sick, Disney movies and soup it is.

Seeing that made me smile. I scrolled through Twitter happily, and finally got around to checking my notifications. I was tagged in a crap load of pictures from EduHam, and now people were tweeting about me being home sick. Gosh don't people have their own lives?

@linlinlinmiranda - @abigailleighmiranda @linmanuel I don't know whether to think this is adorable, or to feel really bad for Abi.

Gosh I wasn't that sick, it wasn't life or death.

@abigailleighmiranda - @linlinlinmiranda don't feel bad, it's just a cold, I'm a gon live.

After replying to that, I went back to my notifications, and in the corner of my eye, saw Lins hand out. I looked up to see his eyes still trained on the TV, but his hand out, obviously asking for my phone. I clicked it off, and set my phone in his hand.

I saw the hint of a smile on his face the second my phone touched his hand, like he had succeeded at fatherhood. I turned my attention back to the TV, but out of the corner of my eye, saw him looking through the Twitter on my phone. Oh crap. I mean, I wasn't doing anything wrong, it's just, the Hamilton fandom can be problematic at times, and, well, they can be disrespectful via the Internet, and sometimes I get the bulk of that. I looked back over and saw him messaging tons of tweets to himself with my phone.

"I love you." He said, pulling me into him, and kissing the top of my head.

"I love you too." I replied.

"No. You don't get it, Niñita, how long has this been going on?" He asked.

"What?" I asked.

"How long have people been harassing you on Twitter?" He asked.

"A while, it's alright." I said, trying to get off the topic.

"No it's not." He said. "You can't let people do that."

"They're fans." I said simply, "these are the people that stagedoor, that go and see the show and cry the entire time. People have disliked me my entire life, I'll be fine." I said.

"Niñita, when we were in the hospital," he started, and I stiffened a little, not wanting to talk about this, "you said that it was people harassing you online that brought you to drink and swallow a bottle of pills." A tear escaped my eye when he mentioned the drinking and the attempted suicide.

"I'm okay." I whispered.

"No you're not okay." He said, tucking my hair behind my ear, "and guess what, you don't have to be okay. I blocked a bunch of people on your account." He said handing my phone back. "And I sent those tweets to my account, and I'll block them as well. We can deal with this." He said, wrapping his arm around my shoulders.

About 5 hours later, Lin was getting ready to leave for call.

"You don't have to work today." He said, coming out of his room with his Merrily We Roll Along t-shirt, and his Washington Heights hat on. "You can just hang around backstage, there's always tea, cookies or some crap back there."

"If I'm not working, why do I have to go?" I asked.

"Because Vanessa won't be home for like, four more hours, she's getting dinner with a friend."

"Why can't I just stay here?" I asked.

"The aforementioned, I'm never leaving you alone ever again." He said, pulling his backpack on. "Come on Niñita," he pulled the blankets off my lap, I stood up from the couch, and he pulled one of his sweatshirts over my Finding Neverland t-shirt. "Okay, you look great, let's go to work." He added, and I looked down at my pajama pants and slipper boots. Yep. I looked 'great'.

•••

"She feeling better?" I overheard Rory talking to Lin, I was outside their dressing room, I was going to ask him something.

"No, well, I don't know, maybe." I heard Lin.

"Why is she here then?" He asked, "if she's still sick she should be at home."

"I just can't let her stay home alone anymore." I heard him.

"Lin, she's 15, she's not exactly an adult, but she should be able to take care of herself."

"We had trouble this morning with people on Twitter, I'm not taking that chance again. I'm not coming home to find her drunk with a bottle of pills again, or a knife, or a rope." I heard his voice cracking. I had no idea that's why I wasn't allowed to stay home alone anymore. I didn't stay to hear the rest of their conversation. I didn't need to hear that.

Did he think that I was going to kill myself? Did he honestly think that was going to happen again? Was he honestly that afraid that I was going to stab myself? Really? I know I haven't been my best lately, I don't think I was going to hang myself. Will he ever trust me again?

•••

Hi! I'm so so sorry this is late, but it is longer! That's a plus. Guys, look what came in the mail for me.

I'm dying it's so beautiful.

Also, I sent this letter February 23rd... I sent this letter before I started writing this book... Wow.

I'm sorry this is late

So, thanks...

Thanks for reading!

- Abi