𝒟𝑒𝒶𝓇 𝐸𝓂𝓂𝒶, 𝑀𝒶𝓇𝓎 𝑀𝒶𝓇𝑔𝒶𝓇𝑒𝓉, 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝒟𝒶𝓋𝒾𝒹,

𝐼 𝒹𝑜𝓃'𝓉 𝓀𝓃𝑜𝓌 𝒽𝑜𝓌 𝓉𝑜 𝓈𝒶𝓎 𝓉𝒽𝒾𝓈, 𝒷𝓊𝓉 𝐼'𝓂 𝓁𝑒𝒶𝓋𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝒮𝓉𝑜𝓇𝓎𝒷𝓇𝑜𝑜𝓀𝑒. 𝐼 𝒹𝒾𝒹𝓃'𝓉 𝓀𝓃𝑜𝓌 𝒽𝑜𝓌 𝓉𝑜 𝓈𝒶𝓎 "𝒢𝑜𝑜𝒹𝒷𝓎𝑒" 𝒾𝓃 𝓅𝑒𝓇𝓈𝑜𝓃, 𝓈𝑜 𝐼'𝓂 𝓉𝒶𝓀𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝓅𝑒𝓃 𝓉𝑜 𝓅𝒶𝓅𝑒𝓇. 𝐸𝓋𝑒𝓃 𝓉𝒽𝓇𝑜𝓊𝑔𝒽 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝓌𝓇𝒾𝓉𝓉𝑒𝓃 𝓌𝑜𝓇𝒹, 𝐼'𝓂 𝓃𝑜𝓉 𝓈𝓊𝓇𝑒 𝒽𝑜𝓌 𝓉𝑜 𝓈𝒶𝓎 𝒾𝓉, 𝒷𝓊𝓉 𝐼 𝒽𝒶𝓋𝑒 𝓉𝑜, 𝓈𝑜 𝐼'𝓁𝓁 𝒹𝑜 𝓂𝓎 𝒷𝑒𝓈𝓉. 𝐻𝑒𝓇𝑒 𝒾𝓉 𝒾𝓈 𝒶𝑔𝒶𝒾𝓃—𝐼'𝓂 𝓁𝑒𝒶𝓋𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝒮𝓉𝑜𝓇𝓎𝒷𝓇𝑜𝑜𝓀𝑒, 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝐼 𝒹𝑜𝓃'𝓉 𝓀𝓃𝑜𝓌 𝓌𝒽𝑒𝓃 𝑜𝓇 𝒾𝒻 𝐼'𝓁𝓁 𝒷𝑒 𝒷𝒶𝒸𝓀.

𝐼 𝒸𝒶𝓂𝑒 𝒽𝑒𝓇𝑒 𝓈𝑒𝒶𝓇𝒸𝒽𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝒻𝑜𝓇 𝓂𝓎 𝓅𝒶𝓇𝑒𝓃𝓉𝓈, 𝒷𝓊𝓉 𝐼 𝒸𝑜𝓊𝓁𝒹𝓃'𝓉 𝒻𝒾𝓃𝒹 𝓉𝒽𝑒𝓂. 𝐼 𝓈𝑒𝒶𝓇𝒸𝒽𝑒𝒹 𝒽𝒾𝑔𝒽 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝓁𝑜𝓌, 𝒷𝓊𝓉 𝓉𝒽𝑒𝓎'𝓇𝑒 𝓃𝑜𝓌𝒽𝑒𝓇𝑒 𝓉𝑜 𝒷𝑒 𝒻𝑜𝓊𝓃𝒹. 𝐼'𝓂 𝓈𝑜𝓇𝓇𝓎 𝐼 𝒸𝑜𝓊𝓁𝒹𝓃'𝓉 𝓈𝓉𝒶𝓎, 𝒷𝓊𝓉 𝐼 𝓉𝓇𝒾𝑒𝒹, 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝒾𝓉'𝓈 𝓉𝒾𝓂𝑒 𝒻𝑜𝓇 𝓂𝑒 𝓉𝑜 𝓂𝑜𝓋𝑒 𝑜𝓃.

𝐼 𝒽𝒶𝒹 𝓈𝑜 𝓂𝓊𝒸𝒽 𝒻𝓊𝓃 𝓌𝒾𝓉𝒽 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝒶𝓁𝓁, 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝐼 𝒸𝒶𝓃'𝓉 𝓉𝒽𝒶𝓃𝓀 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝑒𝓃𝑜𝓊𝑔𝒽 𝒻𝑜𝓇 𝑒𝓋𝑒𝓇𝓎𝓉𝒽𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝓎𝑜𝓊'𝓋𝑒 𝒹𝑜𝓃𝑒 𝒻𝑜𝓇 𝓂𝑒 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝒻𝑜𝓇 𝓂𝒶𝓀𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝓂𝑒 𝒶 𝓅𝒶𝓇𝓉 𝑜𝒻 𝓎𝑜𝓊𝓇 𝒻𝒶𝓂𝒾𝓁𝓎. 𝒴𝑜𝓊 𝓌𝑒𝓁𝒸𝑜𝓂𝑒𝒹 𝓂𝑒 𝒾𝓃𝓉𝑜 𝓎𝑜𝓊𝓇 𝒽𝑜𝓂𝑒 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝓉𝓇𝓊𝓈𝓉𝑒𝒹 𝓂𝑒 𝑒𝓃𝑜𝓊𝑔𝒽 𝓉𝑜 𝒽𝒶𝓋𝑒 𝓂𝓎 𝑜𝓌𝓃 𝓀𝑒𝓎, 𝓌𝒽𝒾𝒸𝒽 𝐼 𝓁𝑒𝒻𝓉 𝑜𝓃 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝓀𝒾𝓉𝒸𝒽𝑒𝓃 𝒸𝑜𝓊𝓃𝓉𝑒𝓇. 𝐼 𝓌𝒾𝓁𝓁 𝒶𝓁𝓌𝒶𝓎𝓈 𝒷𝑒 𝑔𝓇𝒶𝓉𝑒𝒻𝓊𝓁 𝒻𝑜𝓇 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝓀𝒾𝓃𝒹𝓃𝑒𝓈𝓈 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝓁𝑜𝓋𝑒 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝓈𝒽𝑜𝓌𝑒𝒹 𝓂𝑒 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝒸𝒽𝑒𝓇𝒾𝓈𝒽 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝓂𝑒𝓂𝑜𝓇𝒾𝑒𝓈 𝓌𝑒 𝓂𝒶𝒹𝑒 𝓉𝑜𝑔𝑒𝓉𝒽𝑒𝓇.

𝐸𝓂𝓂𝒶 (𝑜𝓇 𝓈𝒽𝑜𝓊𝓁𝒹 𝐼 𝓈𝒶𝓎, "𝒜𝒹𝓊𝓁𝓉 𝑀𝑒?"), 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝓌𝑒𝓇𝑒 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝒻𝒾𝓇𝓈𝓉 𝓅𝑒𝓇𝓈𝑜𝓃 𝐼 𝓂𝑒𝓉 𝒾𝓃 𝒮𝓉𝑜𝓇𝓎𝒷𝓇𝑜𝑜𝓀𝑒, 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝓈𝒽𝑜𝓌𝑒𝒹 𝓂𝑒 𝒾𝓉'𝓈 𝓃𝑒𝓋𝑒𝓇 𝓉𝑜𝑜 𝓁𝒶𝓉𝑒 𝓉𝑜 𝒻𝒾𝓃𝒹 𝓎𝑜𝓊𝓇 𝒻𝒶𝓂𝒾𝓁𝓎. 𝒴𝑜𝓊'𝓋𝑒 𝒷𝑒𝑒𝓃 𝒶𝓃 𝒾𝓂𝓅𝑒𝒸𝒸𝒶𝒷𝓁𝑒 𝒻𝓇𝑒𝓃𝑒𝓂𝓎 𝒻𝓇𝑜𝓂 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝓂𝑜𝓂𝑒𝓃𝓉 𝓌𝑒 𝓂𝑒𝓉 𝒶𝓈 𝒮𝒽𝑒𝓇𝒾𝒻𝒻 𝒶𝓃𝒹 "𝓉𝒽𝒶𝓉 𝑔𝒾𝓇𝓁," 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝐼'𝓂 𝓈𝑜𝓇𝓇𝓎 𝒻𝑜𝓇 𝒸𝒶𝓊𝓈𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝓉𝓇𝑜𝓊𝒷𝓁𝑒. 𝐼 𝒽𝑜𝓅𝑒 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝒸𝒶𝓃 𝒻𝑜𝓇𝑔𝒾𝓋𝑒 𝓂𝑒 𝒻𝑜𝓇 𝑒𝓋𝑒𝓇𝓎𝓉𝒽𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝐼'𝓋𝑒 𝒹𝑜𝓃𝑒 𝓌𝓇𝑜𝓃𝑔. 𝐼𝓉 𝓉𝑜𝑜𝓀 𝓈𝑜𝓂𝑒 𝓉𝒾𝓂𝑒, 𝒷𝓊𝓉 𝓂𝓎 𝓌𝒾𝓈𝒽 𝒸𝒶𝓂𝑒 𝓉𝓇𝓊𝑒. 𝐼𝓉 𝓌𝒶𝓈 𝓃𝒾𝒸𝑒 𝓂𝑒𝑒𝓉𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝓎𝑜𝓊, 𝒶𝒻𝓉𝑒𝓇 𝒶𝓁𝓁.

𝑀𝒶𝓇𝓎 𝑀𝒶𝓇𝑔𝒶𝓇𝑒𝓉, 𝓎𝑜𝓊'𝓇𝑒 𝓁𝒾𝓀𝑒 𝒶 𝒷𝒾𝑔 𝓈𝒾𝓈𝓉𝑒𝓇 𝓉𝑜 𝓂𝑒. 𝒴𝑜𝓊 𝓁𝒾𝓈𝓉𝑒𝓃𝑒𝒹 𝓉𝑜 𝓂𝓎 𝓅𝓇𝑜𝒷𝓁𝑒𝓂𝓈 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝑔𝒶𝓋𝑒 𝓂𝑒 𝒶𝒹𝓋𝒾𝒸𝑒 𝓌𝒽𝑒𝓃 𝐼 𝓃𝑒𝑒𝒹𝑒𝒹 𝒾𝓉, 𝑒𝓋𝑒𝓃 𝓌𝒽𝑒𝓃 𝐼 𝒹𝒾𝒹𝓃'𝓉 𝓌𝒶𝓃𝓉 𝓉𝑜 𝓁𝒾𝓈𝓉𝑒𝓃. (𝐼'𝓁𝓁 𝒶𝓁𝓌𝒶𝓎𝓈 𝒷𝑒 𝓉𝒽𝒶𝓃𝓀𝒻𝓊𝓁 𝒻𝑜𝓇 𝓉𝒽𝒶𝓉 𝒶𝒹𝓋𝒾𝒸𝑒, 𝒷𝓎 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝓌𝒶𝓎.) 𝒴𝑜𝓊 𝒽𝒶𝓋𝑒 𝒶 𝒽𝑒𝒶𝓇𝓉 𝑜𝒻 𝑔𝑜𝓁𝒹, 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝐼'𝓂 𝑔𝓇𝒶𝓉𝑒𝒻𝓊𝓁 𝒻𝑜𝓇 𝑒𝓋𝑒𝓇𝓎𝓉𝒽𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝓎𝑜𝓊'𝓋𝑒 𝒹𝑜𝓃𝑒 𝒻𝑜𝓇 𝓂𝑒, 𝒻𝓇𝑜𝓂 𝓉𝒶𝓀𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝓂𝑒 𝓈𝒽𝑜𝓅𝓅𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝓉𝑜 𝓁𝑒𝓉𝓉𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝓂𝑒 𝓈𝓉𝒶𝓎 𝒶𝓉 𝓎𝑜𝓊𝓇 𝒶𝓅𝒶𝓇𝓉𝓂𝑒𝓃𝓉. 𝐼 𝒹𝒾𝒹 𝓂𝓎 𝒷𝑒𝓈𝓉 𝓉𝑜 𝓁𝒾𝓋𝑒 𝑔𝑜𝑜𝒹 𝓂𝑜𝓂𝑒𝓃𝓉𝓈, 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝐼 𝒽𝑜𝓅𝑒 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝓃𝑜𝓉𝒾𝒸𝑒𝒹 𝒽𝑜𝓌 𝒽𝒶𝓇𝒹 𝐼 𝓉𝓇𝒾𝑒𝒹 𝒷𝑒𝒸𝒶𝓊𝓈𝑒 𝒾𝓉 𝓌𝒶𝓈 𝐻𝒜𝑅𝒟. 𝐼 𝒽𝑜𝓅𝑒 𝓎𝑜𝓊'𝓇𝑒 𝓅𝓇𝑜𝓊𝒹 𝑜𝒻 𝓂𝑒. 𝒯𝒽𝒶𝓃𝓀 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝒻𝑜𝓇 𝒷𝑒𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝓉𝒽𝑒𝓇𝑒 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝓈𝒽𝑜𝓌𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝓂𝑒 𝒽𝑜𝓌 𝓉𝑜 𝒷𝑒 𝓈𝓉𝓇𝑜𝓃𝑔 𝒾𝓃 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝒻𝒶𝒸𝑒 𝑜𝒻 𝒶𝒹𝓋𝑒𝓇𝓈𝒾𝓉𝓎 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝓃𝑒𝓋𝑒𝓇 𝑔𝒾𝓋𝑒 𝓊𝓅 𝒽𝑜𝓅𝑒 (𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝒻𝑜𝓇 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝒸𝓁𝑜𝓉𝒽𝑒𝓈).

𝒟𝒶𝓋𝒾𝒹, 𝓎𝑜𝓊'𝓇𝑒 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝒸𝑜𝑜𝓁 𝓊𝓃𝒸𝓁𝑒 𝐼'𝓋𝑒 𝒶𝓁𝓌𝒶𝓎𝓈 𝓌𝒶𝓃𝓉𝑒𝒹, 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝐼'𝓂 𝑔𝓇𝒶𝓉𝑒𝒻𝓊𝓁 𝒻𝑜𝓇 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝓉𝒾𝓂𝑒 𝓌𝑒 𝓈𝒽𝒶𝓇𝑒𝒹. 𝒯𝒽𝒶𝓃𝓀 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝒻𝑜𝓇 𝓈𝒽𝑜𝓌𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝓂𝑒 𝓌𝒽𝒶𝓉 𝒾𝓉 𝓂𝑒𝒶𝓃𝓈 𝓉𝑜 𝒷𝑒 𝒷𝓇𝒶𝓋𝑒 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝒽𝑜𝓌 𝓉𝑜 𝓁𝒾𝓋𝑒 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝓁𝒾𝒻𝑒 𝐼 𝓌𝒶𝓃𝓉 𝓇𝒶𝓉𝒽𝑒𝓇 𝓉𝒽𝒶𝓃 𝑜𝓃𝓁𝓎 𝒹𝑜𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝓌𝒽𝒶𝓉'𝓈 𝓃𝑒𝒸𝑒𝓈𝓈𝒶𝓇𝓎 𝓉𝑜 𝓈𝓊𝓇𝓋𝒾𝓋𝑒. 𝒴𝑜𝓊 𝒽𝒶𝓋𝑒 𝒶 𝓈𝓉𝓇𝑜𝓃𝑔 𝒽𝑒𝒶𝓇𝓉, 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝓎𝑜𝓊'𝓇𝑒 𝓇𝒾𝑔𝒽𝓉. 𝒯𝒽𝒾𝓈 𝒾𝓈 𝒶 𝒷𝒾𝑔 𝓌𝑜𝓇𝓁𝒹, 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝒾𝓉'𝓈 𝑜𝓃𝑒 𝐼 𝒾𝓃𝓉𝑒𝓃𝒹 𝓉𝑜 𝓁𝒾𝓋𝑒, 𝒻𝑜𝓇 𝒷𝑜𝓉𝒽 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝑀𝒶𝓇𝓎 𝑀𝒶𝓇𝑔𝒶𝓇𝑒𝓉'𝓈 𝓈𝒶𝓀𝑒𝓈. 𝒜𝓃𝒹 𝓉𝒽𝒶𝓉 𝓉𝒽𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝒶𝓈𝓀𝑒𝒹 𝓂𝑒 𝓉𝑜 𝒹𝑜—𝒟𝑜𝓃'𝓉 𝓌𝑜𝓇𝓇𝓎 𝒶𝒷𝑜𝓊𝓉 𝒾𝓉. 𝐼'𝓂 𝓉𝒶𝓀𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝓉𝒽𝑒𝓂 𝓌𝒾𝓉𝒽 𝓂𝑒.

𝒫𝓁𝑒𝒶𝓈𝑒 𝓉𝑒𝓁𝓁 𝐻𝑜𝑜𝓀 𝐼'𝓂 𝓈𝑜𝓇𝓇𝓎 𝒻𝑜𝓇 𝓃𝑜𝓉 𝓈𝒶𝓎𝒾𝓃𝑔 "𝒢𝑜𝑜𝒹𝒷𝓎𝑒." 𝐼𝓉 𝓌𝑜𝓊𝓁𝒹 𝒽𝓊𝓇𝓉 𝓉𝑜𝑜 𝓂𝓊𝒸𝒽 𝓉𝑜 𝓈𝑒𝑒 𝒽𝒾𝓂 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝒽𝒾𝓈 𝓇𝑒𝒶𝒸𝓉𝒾𝑜𝓃 𝒾𝒻 𝐼 𝓉𝑜𝓁𝒹 𝒽𝒾𝓂. 𝐻𝑒'𝓈 𝓂𝓎 𝒷𝑒𝓈𝓉 𝒻𝓇𝒾𝑒𝓃𝒹, 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝐼'𝓁𝓁 𝓂𝒾𝓈𝓈 𝒽𝒾𝓂 𝓂𝑜𝓇𝑒 𝓉𝒽𝒶𝓃 𝒶𝓃𝓎𝓉𝒽𝒾𝓃𝑔. 𝒯𝑒𝓁𝓁 𝒽𝒾𝓂 𝒽𝑜𝓌 𝓂𝓊𝒸𝒽 𝒽𝑒 𝓂𝑒𝒶𝓃𝓈 𝓉𝑜 𝓂𝑒. 𝐼 𝓌𝒶𝓃𝓉 𝒽𝒾𝓂 𝓉𝑜 𝓀𝓃𝑜𝓌 𝒽𝑒 𝓌𝒶𝓈 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝒷𝑒𝓈𝓉 𝓅𝒶𝓇𝓉 𝑜𝒻 𝓂𝓎 𝓉𝒾𝓂𝑒 𝒾𝓃 𝒮𝓉𝑜𝓇𝓎𝒷𝓇𝑜𝑜𝓀𝑒. 𝒜𝓃𝒹 𝓉𝑒𝓁𝓁 𝒽𝒾𝓂 𝓃𝑜𝓉 𝓉𝑜 𝓌𝒶𝒾𝓉 𝒻𝑜𝓇 𝓂𝑒 𝓉𝑜 𝒸𝑜𝓂𝑒 𝒷𝒶𝒸𝓀. 𝐼 𝒹𝑜𝓃'𝓉 𝓀𝓃𝑜𝓌 𝒾𝒻 𝐼 𝓌𝒾𝓁𝓁, 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝒾𝓉'𝒹 𝓀𝒾𝓁𝓁 𝓂𝑒 𝓉𝑜 𝓀𝓃𝑜𝓌 𝒽𝑒 𝓌𝒶𝓈 𝓁𝒾𝓃𝑔𝑒𝓇𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝑜𝓃 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝒾𝒹𝑒𝒶 𝑜𝒻 𝓂𝓎 𝓇𝑒𝓉𝓊𝓇𝓃 𝓉𝑜 𝒮𝓉𝑜𝓇𝓎𝒷𝓇𝑜𝑜𝓀𝑒, 𝒽𝑜𝓅𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝓌𝒾𝓈𝒽𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝓉𝑜 𝓈𝑒𝑒 𝓂𝓎 𝒻𝒶𝒸𝑒 𝒶𝑔𝒶𝒾𝓃. 𝐼 𝓌𝒶𝓃𝓉 𝒽𝒾𝓂 𝓉𝑜 𝓂𝑜𝓋𝑒 𝑜𝓃 𝒶𝓈 𝐼 𝒶𝓂. 𝒫𝓁𝑒𝒶𝓈𝑒 𝓉𝒶𝓀𝑒 𝒸𝒶𝓇𝑒 𝑜𝒻 𝒽𝒾𝓂 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝓇𝑒𝓈𝓉 𝑜𝒻 𝒮𝓉𝑜𝓇𝓎𝒷𝓇𝑜𝑜𝓀𝑒 𝒻𝑜𝓇 𝓂𝑒.

𝐼 𝒹𝑜𝓃'𝓉 𝓀𝓃𝑜𝓌 𝓌𝒽𝒶𝓉 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝒻𝓊𝓉𝓊𝓇𝑒 𝒽𝑜𝓁𝒹𝓈, 𝒷𝓊𝓉 𝐼 𝒽𝑜𝓅𝑒 𝑜𝓊𝓇 𝓅𝒶𝓉𝒽𝓈 𝓌𝒾𝓁𝓁 𝒸𝓇𝑜𝓈𝓈 𝒶𝑔𝒶𝒾𝓃 𝓈𝑜𝓂𝑒𝒹𝒶𝓎. 𝒰𝓃𝓉𝒾𝓁 𝓉𝒽𝑒𝓃, 𝓅𝓁𝑒𝒶𝓈𝑒 𝓀𝓃𝑜𝓌 𝓉𝒽𝒶𝓉 𝓎𝑜𝓊'𝓁𝓁 𝒶𝓁𝓌𝒶𝓎𝓈 𝒽𝒶𝓋𝑒 𝒶 𝓈𝓅𝑒𝒸𝒾𝒶𝓁 𝓅𝓁𝒶𝒸𝑒 𝒾𝓃 𝓂𝓎 𝒽𝑒𝒶𝓇𝓉. 𝐼'𝓁𝓁 𝓃𝑒𝓋𝑒𝓇 𝒻𝑜𝓇𝑔𝑒𝓉 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝓂𝑒𝓂𝑜𝓇𝒾𝑒𝓈 𝓌𝑒 𝓈𝒽𝒶𝓇𝑒𝒹.

𝒲𝒾𝓉𝒽 𝓁𝑜𝓋𝑒 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝑔𝓇𝒶𝓉𝒾𝓉𝓊𝒹𝑒,

𝐵𝑒𝓁𝓁𝒶

I read the letter once more to make sure it says everything I want, then fold it back into the envelope and place it on my bed, just as I left it this morning. I didn't expect to fall in love with this town as much as I have. I expected leaving to be easy, but it's goddamn hard. How could I do this to them? But I knew it, didn't I? From day one, I said I'd leave if I didn't find my parents. I didn't find them, so I know what that means.

As I pack my things, I wish no one enters the apartment. I don't want to explain—That's what the letter's for. I don't want anyone to ask me to stay, and I don't want any of them to wait around for me, either. How could I return when the system will keep a hawk's eye on me after my stunt? Curt and Diane will never let me leave the house again.

After Granny's earlier, I picked up my car from the Marine Garage, and it's just as new. No hints of ever colliding with Curt's car or getting tussled by a flying monkey.

I put Hook's knapsack in the trunk along with my guitar, then head back up the stairs to stuff the last of my things into my Vera Bradley duffel. My room seems smaller somehow. I suppose I've grown here, and I don't mean height or weight-wise. This room was a culture shock when I first arrived, but now I'm crestfallen to part with it.

I fold the pajamas Mary Margaret lent me—those brown ones David asked me to hide—and put them in my bag. Then, I take a good, long look at the loft from the front door. It's been fun and was definitely better than sleeping in my car. Way better.

"What are you doing?" Henry's voice comes behind me as I put my duffel in the trunk. I didn't expect him to drop by. I hoped he wouldn't. It would've made things easier.

His footsteps run up to me while I ask myself the question and convince myself this is for the best—for me and everyone. Emma doesn't have to worry about me causing trouble. Mary Margaret and David no longer have to be reminded of what they gave up. Regina can stop fussing over Henry's safety. Hook can move on from his lost friend. Delilah can get her promotion. I don't have to see what I'm not meant to have.

I sigh and slam the trunk shut. "Leaving. I'm done, kid."

"Good. I said you should."

"Henry?" Delilah snaps at him. "And what do you mean, you're done? You just got started." Both of them are in their school uniforms—blazer, tie, and all.

"The lost item idea didn't work. It was the last one we had," I say, leaning against my car, arms folded.

"That doesn't mean your parents aren't here."

"Yes, it does," Henry remarks, provoking Delilah to elbow his shoulder. "Hey, watch it."

"I think it does," I say softly, then move around my car to avoid them.

"You have to stay. Please. You belong here," Delilah says, rubbing salt into the wound.

"Stop, Delilah. It's over."

"How can you say that?"

"Because it is." I address Henry, saying, "Now, get out of here before Regina sees you with me. She's already grounded you for those rumors."

"I know, and for another week. Thanks a lot."

I roll my eyes and lean against the driver's door.

"But I don't care if she sees me with you," he says.

"I do."

"What about believing? You need your memories back," Delilah says. I'm about to protest, but she adds, "It's all part of the plan." That's what Henry said. What's going on here?

"What plan?"

"Operation Python. Henry made it up. The mission is for us to help you remember. It could be the key to finding your parents."

"Forget it. I'm done trying to find them. I'm done with the whole 'hope' thing. It never works out."

"Of course it does," Delilah says, stepping forward. "Just because Henry's plan didn't work, doesn't mean we can't still go looking for them."

"Yeah, it does," Henry protests.

"What is with you? You're the one who wanted to bring her here, and now you want her to leave?"

"We're in a fight," I say.

"Who cares? You belong in Storybrooke. You're a fairytale character like everyone else here. Please stay."

"Sorry, but my mind's made up. Thanks for this, but it didn't work out the way I thought it would. It was fun while it lasted."

"Bella, please. Think about what you're doing. Think about what you're leaving behind." Her eyes are glassy. Why does she care so much?

"I already did. I'm leaving behind a town full of lunatics who all think I'm someone I'm not," I say, my own eyes becoming teary.

"You're special, Bella. Don't you see?" she murmurs. "Who, outside of Storybrooke, gets to say they're from another world? One where magic runs wild and free. Who can say they're both a pirate and a queen? You have royal blood coursing through your veins. You sailed across the realms with Captain Hook. You sacrificed yourself to save your cousin. You literally taught Prince Charming how to sword fight. You have the memories inside your head. Open it up, and you'll have the answers you're looking for."

"Enough! Stop it. I don't need you telling me what to do."

"I'm sorry, but yes, you do. It's been long enough. You've seen things. The flying monkeys, Hortense, Henry's book. You have the proof you need, so why are you ignoring it?"

"Because if I didn't, do you know what that'll mean? That there's more to life than this. That it could be magical and full of adventure and happy endings. That it could be a fairytale. It would mean I got to live in a castle. With parents. With family. It would mean—" My throat closes in as the tears come. "It would mean Killian raised me. That he's my best friend and the one who looked out for me. That he's my adoptive father and the two of us were a family. That's why I ignore it. Happy now?" I don't know what hurts more. That I admitted why I refuse to believe or that I called Hook "Killian" to place distance between me and the memory he'll soon become.

"No." A tear falls from Delilah's eye and trickles down her flushed cheek. "I'd be happy if you stayed."

"And why do you care if I stay?"

Her bottom lip quivers before she says, "I don't have many friends here. A lot of the girls our age know me from my village. I was an outcast then, too. My mother and I lived inside a tree while they all lived in cottages and manors and huts. I lived inside a tree. I weaved flowers into my hair, then befriended a bear. Making friends wasn't exactly easy. It still isn't, but you're the only person who doesn't associate me with all that stuff. You're a blank slate. If you leave Storybrooke, I'll have nobody." She pauses, rubbing her nose with the cuff of her sleeve. "Do you know what it's like to befriend a wild animal—a predator—because humans don't want to interact with you? You think your life sucks? Try going through all that in a world that doesn't have plumbing. Or running water, for that matter. Or even—" she looks over her shoulder at Henry, then comes close to whisper, "sanitary products." I'm gonna ignore the fact that she just called them "sanitary products."

"Picture yourself in my shoes," I say. "How do you think you sound right now?"

"Probably insane."

"Probably?"

"If you get in that car, you are throwing away a better life. A chance at happiness and family. Friendship. Do not get in that car."

"And you're gonna stop me? If you wanted to succeed, you should've brought your bear down here and commanded it to block the road." I open the car door, but Delilah closes it, keeping her hand on the window. "Get your hand off my car. They waxed it. Smudges."

She drags her hand down the glass, creating a long smudge of palm and fingers.

I let out a gruff laugh. "You're ridiculous."

"Don't get in the car." I try to open it again, but she closes it—again. "Don't get in the car."

"Would you stop? It's fucking over. Get over it. And if this is how you think you're gonna make friends...You might want to consider a different approach."

"If you get in that car, you won't just be hurting me. You'll hurt him." She didn't need to remind me. I already know I will. All I'll do when I return to the foster home—or wherever I go—is wonder about Hook. He's the only person who knows me well enough to tell which smiles I'm faking. I know he could. This whole time, I've worried about hurting him when the only heart I'm splitting is mine. I don't think anyone's capable of putting it back together...Anyone outside of Storybrooke, that is.

"I'm not who he wants me to be, anyway," I say. "It's better that he realizes it now than later. But give him a hug for me, won't you?"

Delilah takes a reluctant step back and says, "Your choice."

I pop open the door and wait for her to attempt closing it again. When she doesn't, a strange tug pulls inside my stomach. Ignoring it, I get in the car and pull out of the parking space. I drive away, watching Henry and Delilah shrink in the rearview mirror. I like them. They made me welcome in their hometown. It's too bad it couldn't be mine, too.

Leaving Storybrooke, despite the love and warmth from everyone, causes a physical ache within me. My heart grows, becoming a weight inside my chest, and I struggle to take a deep breath. The knot in my throat threatens to choke me, but I swallow the lump and keep the tears inside. The thought of leaving this place, where I've felt so welcomed and accepted, is like a knife twisting in my chest. Storybrooke is the warmest bed I've ever known. I don't want to leave, but what choice do I have? I knew I wouldn't stay here, but my heart refuses to listen. I'm losing something precious. Even though I didn't come here to make friends, somehow I did.

Delilah's pretty chill, even if she has a pet bear that could kill me.

Hook's the closest connection I've ever made, which seems ridiculous, but it's true.

Mary Margaret's like a sweet older sister, mother, and aunt wrapped in one. She's such a cupcake, and I haven't said that about anyone before. I've never met someone that genuinely kind.

David's like a cool uncle. He's compassionate and helpful but a little annoying—in a good way.

Emma's like a strict mother, but she's still cool. It's the caring kind of strict, not the "I don't give a damn about you" kind, like Diane.

Ruby's a great friend and the older sister type. She'll always have my back.

Neal's the same, but the male version, of course. I've always wanted a protective older brother.

Belle's endearing and just like me. I've always seen myself in her. I suppose that's why I like her so much.

Henry's kind of like a younger brother, but he's also a bit of a weirdo. And I want nothing to do with him at the moment.

I slam my foot on the brakes before crossing an orange line spray-painted across the pavement. A green sign on the right of the road says, "Leaving Storybrooke." On the left is the backside of the "Welcome to Storybrooke" sign.

This is it.

I could leave right now—leave all these painful memories behind.

But were they all that painful?

I need to leave Storybrooke, yet I sit in my seat, frozen, staring at the open road beyond the orange line. Don't I remember what's for me out there? Nothing. Strict rules. Abusive foster parents. Bullying. Anger. Depression. Loneliness. Nothing.

Everyone welcomed me into Storybrooke—into their home. I didn't know people could be so capable of compassion and kindness. No one here's given me a reason to believe it false. Even Regina and Gold came around in the end.

Mary Margaret wouldn't have bought me clothes and allowed me to stay at her apartment if she didn't care.

David wouldn't have comforted me if he didn't care.

Hook wouldn't have spent so much time with me if he didn't care.

Delilah wouldn't have sacrificed her job if she didn't care.

Henry wouldn't have helped me if he didn't care.

Emma wouldn't have let me inside her walls if she didn't care.

I'm cared for here. People like me for who I am—or who they think I am in their world, but does it matter? They still appreciate me. They like me.

But my parents aren't here. The quest is over. It's done. Finished.

I look out my window at the "Welcome to Storybrooke" sign.

There's so much I've missed out on, like enjoying a simple cup of coffee, nature walks, socialization, and relaxation. Ever since the day I arrived in Storybrooke, I haven't gone to bed with an empty stomach or with pain in my chest. I haven't gone to sleep thinking about how meaningless everything seems because it's no longer meaningless. I've gone to bed happy for a change. I haven't felt like I'm about to explode. Life's still not a fairytale, but it's not about surviving anymore.

Living instead of surviving is amazing and freeing, but I can't lower my guard to the ground. I need protection since I still have no idea what's happening in Storybrooke. So much has been left unexplained. Flying monkeys, curses, cloaking spells, Peter Pan, the letters, my past life, and my parents are some of those things, but I'm more interested in my parents than anything else.

Emma and Mary Margaret know my mother but won't tell me anything about her. Where the fuck is Safe Haven? What is Safe Haven? It sounds like an asylum. I'm hoping it isn't, but I wouldn't be surprised with my luck.

And what's with my visions? Maybe if I leave, they'll stop. Maybe this whole thing will disappear once I go someplace else.

Move. Drive. Go.

Fine.

I set my car in reverse and step on the gas. Backing away from the line, I make a U-turn and drive back into town, a strange relief sweeping over me.