Emily's name was blurred by droplets of water, presumably her tears.

There were a cloud of mist around Amber's eyes as she finished reading the story.

She finally knew what was going on and what it all meant.

She jumped up from the seat and ran up the stairs to Emily's bedroom. She went over to the drawer with the picture frame on top, and pulled out Emily's suicide note that she left at her death scene. It was folded into a tight square. Amber had left it there after reading it and promised herself never to see it again. It saddened her when she remembered Emily was no longer with her.

But now wasn't the time to be scared or afraid. She had to be strong, for her, for Emily, for little James.

She unfolded the little sheet of paper with shaking hands and read the few words scribbled wobbly on it:

I hope he's happy. I love you, my angel.

I love you so much. I'm sorry.

-Emily

When Amber first read the note she had not understood what it meant. Who was 'he'? Who was the 'angel'?

Now she finally knew. She could finally understand the pain her daughter had gone through. She finally understood the reason why Emily chose to make a death dive off the 7th story of the building. And James...

Something shattered into a billion pieces Amber's heart. She couldn't even begin to imagine the agony that the little boy had gone through. She clutched the note and the letter tightly in her hands and held them close to her racing heart.

Amber, for the first time in all her life, had a clear picture of what she must do. She reached up and pressed the papers to her lips and said in a firm, declarative, determined voice, "I'm coming to get you, James. Wait for me. I'm about to give you the home that future your mom had anticipated for you."

She wasted no time to ring up with Matthew to tell him everything that she had discovered. She told him of her plans to go to The School of Homeless Boys and adopt James under Emily's name. She told him how she planned to raise the boy like her own. She told him everything.

Matthew agreed immediately. He knew that if Amber did this, she would crawl out from her shell of depression. James was the answer to everything, to the universe, to beyond.

"I'm going right now," Amber informed him.

"Let me come with you," Matthew pleaded.

"No," Amber said and shook her head, even though she knew he wouldn't be able to see it. "This is something that I must do alone."

"But, would you be alright?"

Amber smiled a genuine smile for the first time in days. "Yes, I think I will. You know something strange? I have never felt so determined, so full of energy, all my life. I have a feeling that I will succeed."

"What if James is no longer in America?" Matthew asked.

"No, he is still here," Amber said confidently. "I can feel it crawling up my spine."

"Alright, then. I wish you luck," Matthew said. "Bring back Emily's child for me, please."

"I will."

They hung up. Amber looked out the window and into the sky. "I'm coming," she whispered. "I'm coming for you both, Emily, James. Just be patient and wait a little bit more."

She threw on her traveling coat and ran outside to her car. She drove as fast as she can to the college. All the while she could feel excitement and worry bubbling in her chest.

This was it. Everything was going to come down to this.

She pulled up to The School of Homeless Boys in no time and hopped out of her car. She jogged up to the front of the school, not even a little bit out of breath.

She was old before, but now she was young and full of life again. She stood straight with her chin up towards the sky. She knocked bravely on the rusty door and stepped back to wait.

Slowly, the door creaked open a crack and a brown eye appeared. It swirled around for a moment and finally settled on her. It narrowed. "Who are you? What is it that you want?" a voice behind the voice hissed.

"Hello, my name is Amber Helsing," Amber said and hugged my coat closer to her body. The winter dry wind was prickling her skin. "May I speak to a woman named Mrs. Mackle?"

The eye widened at Amber's name and then darted back and forth fearfully, as if it were afraid someone was listening to their conversation, and then they disappeared and someone swung open the door wide enough for Amber to walk through. So she did.

The halls were exactly as Emily had described. Amber looked around at all the oil paintings in fascination.

"You have quite a collection here," she remarked. The woman who had opened the door for her did not answer. She had hair that was down by her shoulder and was an ashen gray, but Amber could tell that it was once a brownish color. Her face was hollow and empty of happiness. Her emerald eyes were dull, and she had a hunched back as if trying to curl up while standing up, to bury a dark secret from the past. She wore a worn brown dress with patches of blue and red to cover the holes that had appeared over time. She eyed Amber warily and remained a long distance away from her.

Amber took a daring step forwards and said as warmly as possible, "Hello, Mrs. Mackle."

Mrs. Mackled jumped as if she had not expected Amber to know her name. She wrangled her hands and visibly swallowed and then, said quickly, with no breath in between, "I'm so sorry about what happened to your daughter. You must be here to blame it all on me, and I can't say that you are wrong. I didn't even know why I was so rude and cruel to her. She was a nice lady, always kind and smiling. I don't really have any defense for myself. I didn't mean to kill her, I promise I didn't. So please, forgive me. I was just-"

Amber held up a hand to silence her rambling. "I know and I understand," she said, "but that's not what I'm here for."

Mrs. Mackle looked down at her feet. "Then what brings you here? Is it money that you want? How much? I'll give you anything."

Amber shook her head. 'No," she said again. "That is not what I came for, also. I want to speak with you about the matters of James."

At the mention of the name "James" Mrs. Mackle seemed to grow a hundred years old in a second. Her eyes shrunken into their socks even more, if that was even possible. "I think..." her throat closed up and she coughed into her hands and started over again, "I think that you should follow me into my office. I think it's time I tell you something."

She led Amber through the hall to a little room at the end. It stood shaded by the shadows and Amber almost missed it. A lopsided faded brown sign hung over the door said "Headmistress: Jeanne Mackle". Mrs. Mackle pushed open the door and allowed Amber inside.

The room was small and was mostly taken up by the large desk placed in the middle. Amber sat down on one of the couches that was not piled up with books and toys and looked around. Different posters of the world were posted on the walls. An ancient looking lantern sat in the corner of the room, lit by a small wavering flame.

There were school pictures taped around the room as well. There were approximately twenty five boys in each. Amber noticed that there was at least one different boy each photo. Amber immediately identified Mrs. Mackle as a blurry figure that stood off to the sides in every picture. It seemed as if she didn't want to be in the pictures but had no choice.

Mrs. Mackle walked to behind the desk and sat down. The was a deafening silence in the room until she finally said, slowly, "Do you want to know why I work here?"

Amber was taken aback. She was not prepared for that question. She blinked. "Why, yes, but only if that's comfortable with you," she said.

"Do you see that picture over there?" Mrs. Mackle pointed to a small picture frame sitting on the corner of her desk. It featured herself young and beautiful with flushed cheeks and perfect hair, and of two other people, a man and a boy no older than five. The little boy had on a hat that covered his hair and was smiling into the camera. In his hands he held a baseball and a baseball bat.

"Is that your family?" Amber questioned. Mrs. Mackle nodded.

"Yes, it was, until the accident," she said and gingerly grabbed the photo and stared longingly at it. "My husband and my son both died in a plane accident. The two of them had gone on a vacation to Germany. I stayed behind to take care of the house. Even now, I wish I could go back in time and be in that crash with them.

"My son was only 7 when it happened. He was so young! He had an entire future ahead of him. And, as for my husband, I loved him dearly. The two of us were high school sweethearts. Where I go is where he goes. I could never ask for a better family." A single tear escaped her eyes, but she did not make a sound. She continued her story, but now her lips were quivering.

"I guess, when the news arrived to me early one morning, saying that I might not see them again, something broke inside of me. I don't really know what it was. It was just something. I tried to live through it, telling myself that everything was going to be okay, but reality hit me square in the face. My husband and my only son has gone to a place too far for me to reach.

"At first, I tried to follow them. But I came to my senses and knew that that was not the answer to all my problems and sadness. So I came here to work with kids. I had believed that if I surrounded myself with children's happiness I would become happy as well.

"But that didn't happen. I didn't know that I was sent to a place of eternal sadness instead of joy. All of the children here cried day and night. I couldn't stand it so I began to lock them in their rooms. It helped drown out their whinny voices. I knew it was wrong, but I had to do it." Another tear slide down her cheek, but she composed her posture.

"I didn't understand what was making them so sad. They had friends, I did not. They had someone to take care of them, I did not. They were able to look out for each other, I had no one. So why? Why were they crying? Shouldn't I be the one shredding more tears?"

Mrs. Mackle had to stop because a lot of tears had accumulated in her eyes. She wiped it over with her sleeve and sniffed. "I-I didn't understand that it was m-m-me who was making the children s-sad at the time. I didn't understand how p-painful it was to lose your mother and father. I only understood my own pain. But now I understand theirs. So I'm sorry for everything I had done in the past. I'm sorry for acting so foolishly and selfishly."

When Mrs. Mackle spoke no more, Amber got up from her seat and walked over to her. She gave the woman a hug, surprising herself and Mrs. Mackle.

"It's okay," Amber said in a soothing voice. "It's okay. You're okay now. I understand. I forgive you. So don't cry anymore, alone."

Jeanne Mackle's tears were like rivers. She let her bottle of waves that she had kept to herself every since she lost her husband and son pour out all at once. But they weren't tears of sadness. No, they were tears of joy, joy that someone finally listened to her story, her words, and understood her feelings of loneliness all those years. Her heart was finally mended of its hole.

When Mrs. Mackle calmed down enough to speak, her first words were, "Thank you."

Amber pulled back and smiled. "Of course, anytime."

Mrs. Mackle dried her eyes and stood up and steady feet. She looked as if she weren't so broken just a second ago. "Come," she said. "I'll take you to James. He is upstairs with all the other boys."

Amber followed her out the dark little room and up the winding, spiraling stairs. The steps creaked beneath her feet, an indication of old age.

The two of them walked down a long corridor. There were sounds of children laughing echoing down the hall. It got louder and louder as they neared two wooden double doors. Beside them, inscribed into a small metal rectangle that was nailed into the wall, read "Bedroom".

Mrs. Mackle gripped the handle and turned. As she opened the door, all laughter ceased to quietness.

There were boys of all ages sitting on rows of twin beds.. The youngest of them was a baby. They all stared past Mrs. Mackle to Amber, who stood awkwardly by the doorway.

Never in her life had she had so many eyes trained on her. She shifted uncomfortably from foot to foot.

Mrs. Mackle scanned the crowd of silent boys before asking, "Where is James?"

The boys looked at each other and a silent agreement seemed to pass over them as to who should answer.

The boy nearest the door spoke up. "He's in the private bedroom, Mrs. Mackle."

Mrs. Mackle nodded. "Thank you, Edward. Come, Mrs. Helsing. He's right through that doorway."

The two of them walked through the middle of the beds and to the back of the room where a door was located. Mrs. Mackle knocked on it once and called through it, "James, are you in there?"

At first there was no reply. Then, a high pitched male's voice answered back, "Yes I am, Mrs. Mackle."

"I've brought a visitor who wishes to meet with you," Mrs. Mackle said. "Do you mind if she comes in?"

"Alright," James called back. Mrs. Mackle stepped back from the door and said to Amber, "He's in there. You may go in. Good luck."

Amber nodded her thanks and went inside the dimly lit room. A small boy sat perched on a cream white bed placed near a small circular window. He was looking out of it at the passing streets below. He didn't seem to acknowledge the fact that Amber walked in.

"Hello," Amber said, breaking the silence. "You must be James."

James turned to face her. "Yes, I am. Who are you?"

Amber crossed the room and sat down on the tiny bed beside the boy. She said, getting straight to the point, "My name is Amber Helsing. I'm here to give you a home. Would you like to come with me?"

James stared at her and frowned. "Does that mean you'll be my mommy? But all mommies look younger than you."

Amber laughed, her voice ringing throughout the room. "No, I'm not going to be your mommy. I'm going to be your grandmother."

"What's a grandmother?" James asked curiously.

"It means I'm going to take care of from now on," Amber said.

James seemed to be in deep thought. Then he said, "Okay, you can take care of me."

Amber stood up and held out her hand. James grabbed it and hopped off the bed to stand beside her. Together the left the small dark room and back into the large bedroom. All of the eyes of the boys were on them as the glided through the room to the front where Mrs. Mackle stood, smiling radiantly, waiting for them.

"I hope you have a good life, little one," she told James. James nodded.

Amber signed the adoption papers and wrote Emily's name in the place where it said "Mother's Name". She handed it to Mrs. Mackle who sealed it into a crisp envelope and dropped into a folder on her desk.

As Amber and James were stepping out the door of the orphanage, Amber suddenly stopped for a thought made its way into her mind. She turned her head and spoke directly to Mrs. Mackle one last time, "Let's start over, again, from the beginning, the both of us. But from now on we shall have each other, to lean on and depend on."

It wasn't a question, but more like a plea. Mrs. Mackle seemed to understand beside she nodded and said, "Yes, let us walk as sisters from now on. I will work my hardest and provide the boys a happy life. You look after James and make sure that he lives a fulfilling life." Her eyes were shining with a new set of tears.

Amber smiled. That was all she needed to her to be content. She gave Mrs. Mackle one last smile and a wave and walked out to the sun. James squinted in the light and raised a hand to shield his eyes.

"Well, are you ready to go to your new home?" Amber asked. James turned back and stared at the red building behind him, memorizing every little detail of it and stamping it into his mind. He couldn't believe that he had lived in that place for a whole year. He had so many friends, so many brothers, there. He tore his eyes away and faced the street again.

"Yes," he said. "Let's go."

On the ride back, James peered out of the window of the backseat the entire time. Amber couldn't help but giggle as she remembered that Emily was the same as him when she was his age. She would count the passing cars and then tell Amber how many she saw. It became a sacred game between them. James wasn't like Emily and was silent, probably in wonder. He had not seen such beauty all his life.

Amber pulled up into the driveway of the house and got out of the car. She opened James' door and helped him out. James looked around in awe. He took in the scenery before him, the trees, the poppies in the front, the mini fountain, the verdant lawn.

"Wow," he breathed. "It's so beautiful." Amber chuckled.

"Yes, it is," she agreed. "I love this neighborhood. It's quiet most of the time and gives me my own little space of quiet to think." She took the boy inside. To James, the inside of the house made the outside look lame. He took small steps through the hall and twirled around slowly as if he wanted to see everything all at once, but just couldn't

"Do you life it?" Amber asked kindly. It took a second for James to answer.

"Yes," he said. "Yes! I love it. Thank you so much."

"Come with me," Amber said and beckoned him to follow her into the kitchen. "You must be hungry. It's almost dinner. I'll make you a ham sandwich and some lemonade."

James eagerly followed her, all the time still looking around. He sat down at the dinner table and placed his hands neatly in his lap. Amber busied herself with slicing the bread in half and placing two pieces of ham in each of the halves. She poured a glass of fresh lemonade that she made that week and brought the plate and glass over to the table. She set it down carefully in front of James and then took a seat beside him.

James picked up on of the sandwiches and took a tiny bite out of it. He chewed and swallowed and grinned. "This is so good!"

"I'm glad you like it," Amber said. James shoved the rest of his dinner into his mouth and drained the glass of lemonade. He was about to carry his plate and glass to the sink when Amber quickly stopped him.

"Wait, I'll get that for you," she said and took the plates from him. "Why don't you go upstairs first? Wait for me in a room with a big letter 'E' on the door." James nodded and walked out.

Amber washed the dishes and placed them away. She dried her hands and went up the stairs. She walked inside the bedroom and saw James sitting on the bed, staring at a photo frame. Amber walked up to him and sat down beside him. She saw that he was looking intensely at the picture of Emily.

"Is this.. Is this..." He could barely speak. His eyes were wide in disbelief. He took a deep breath and said, "Is this Emily?"

Amber was silent for a moment. Then, ever so quietly, she answered, "Yes, she is."

James gasped. "Does that mean Emily lives here?" he asked eagerly.

"Yes, she used to," Amber said.

"Are you her teacher, then? Like Mrs. Mackle?" James continued. his voice raising in excitement. Amber chuckled lightly.

"I guess you can say that. I'm her mother," she told him.

"Her mother," James repeated and then frowned. "You are Emily's mother?" Amber nodded.

James stared more carefully at the picture. "Then... if you are Emily's mother... what am I doing here?"

"Emily is your mother," she told him. "That makes me your grandmother."

James looked taken aback. "Emily is my mommy?" he asked in wonder. "And you are my grandma?"

"Yes," Amber said. James sat in shock for a couple of moments before breaking off into a wide grin. His dimples showed and his eyes lit up like a candle. "I want to see Emily!" he said happily and bounced up and down on the bed. "I want to see my mommy!"

All of a sudden, Amber didn't know what to say. She was stuck. All of her confidence from before flew out of her body. Tears welled up in the back of her eyes and it took all her power to will it not to fall. Her throat closed up and restricted her from saying anything. She needed someone to help her. This was the final step of the plan and yet, she couldn't finally the power to do it. Emily... Emily... Emily...

Then, for a second, she thought she heard a female voice, clear and sharp, say something in her mind and she suddenly knew exactly what to say.

"You can't see her, honey," she told him softly. James stopped jumping.

"Why not?" he said and his face fell. Amber hated to see him upset, but she forced herself to continue.

"Well, you mommy is no longer here. She went to Heaven," Amber explained. "She's up above with the angels."

"Then, when can I see her?" James asked. Amber thought about it for a moment.

"How about this? If you wait long enough you'll not only be able to met her, but you'll also be able to be with her," Amber suggested.

James gave it a thought and nodded. "Okay," he said. He looked up on the ceiling and called, "Mommy, I'll be waiting for you!"

"Come on, now," Amber said and pulled the covers over the little boy. "It's time for bed. Your mommy will be watching over you as you sleep."

James snuggled into his blankets and hugged the picture close to his chest. His eyes grew droopy and soon he was fast asleep. Amber brushed a lock of hair from his face. He really did look like an angel.

She looked around the room, at colorless ceiling, walls, and furniture. "Perhaps it's time I clean this room," she said to someone invisible. "Tomorrow I'll dust off the drawers and paint the walls a light blue. I'll change the bed and the sheets and buy a bunch of toys for James. I think I'll add a dark blue curtain, too. James and I will have a fresh new start tomorrow."

There was a light wind that blew through the room and Amber smiled because she knew that Emily had been listening. "Thank you," she whispered to no one in particular. "Thank you."

Then she turned off the lights and fell into a deep slumber besides her grandson.

~END