I remember the first time I saw her.

Standing alone in the rain, but we all were anyway.

I was twelve when I saw her.

She was standing awkwardly off to the side, without her brothers flanking her because they were too caught up in their own project somewhere else.

She was petite for her age, smaller than me despite being a year older. Her hair was gathered up into a small ponytail, and her pale hands gripped a black umbrella.

She looked... lonely, I guess. That was why I took a step forward, but my father slapped his hand down on my shoulder. He pointed to her. "You see that son? You see that girl? That's Shened, or whatever her name is." He laughed as if it was the funniest thing in the world. "That's weakness, son. That's weakness right there. You usually see her with her clones flanking her, but today, they're not here. And her true weakness shines through."

My twelve-year-old self took one more final look at her.

She stood in front of the grave and just stared, while other family members cried crocodile tears and patted her on the back "sympathetically."

I never forgot the girl who stood alone.

I was the one who blew up the museum.

Hot-headed me.

Blew up the museum.

With her in it.

I pressed the button

God, why is there always only one button to press?

Easier to assign blame.

I stay back to catch a glimpse of her, even just one strand of auburn hair would have been enough.

But I get something much worse.

I get her body laid on a stretcher, scratches marking up her pale skin.

And yet she's still straining against the medics.

"My brothers! I have to get my brothers!"

I look away.

Because I am a coward.

It takes two more years for me to form another coherent sentence towards her.

And this time, it's not full of regret.

"Would you like to go get coffee with me?"

A raised eyebrow. A skeptical look. No, a wary look.

"Is that your idea of a date?"

"I um, I- " I stuff my hands into my pockets. "You know what, forget about it."

She tilts her head. "And I thought Tomas was supposed to be the brave branch."

She shows up at the coffee shop anyway.

It's a blissful three months we spend together.

No moment truly alone, of course. Not with the Vespers on our tail.

The Vespers.

When I look back on it all, I see nothing but pain. Pain and regret.

But not for her.

Not for her memory.

No pain and no betrayal can truly wipe away the relationship that was ours and only ours.

Twenty-five years old, and I still have no idea what I'm doing.

I flip around sometimes, work at odd jobs and training until I go home with broken bones and a heart that shattered a while back.

The Tomas still want me, apparently. But I stopped paying attention to the large blue crest that was emblazoned on my letters.

I stopped paying attention to my letters altogether, actually. And after a few months, they got the message. They stopped trying.

I stopped hoping.

I knew that she was out there somewhere. Gone, but not totally lost.

I imagined her in one of those stereotypical science labs, pouring together rainbow liquids and watching it create a mini-bomb.

She'd laugh at her mistake, then, enjoying the moment. Then, maybe after work, she'd go grab dinner with someone, someone who hugged and kissed her and made her laugh. Someone who cherished her.

But I get home one day. And I find a letter slipped under my door. It's not from the Tomas; it's handwritten, in neat but shaky cursive.

From Amy.

Amy always did like to be the first one to tell the news. Ripping it open, I sit down and start reading.

Dear Ham,

I hope you're doing okay. Good life, good job, good friends.

I know that you probably don't want to hear melancholy news right now. I mean, who wants to hear melancholy news?

But it's about Sinead.

Fiske and Ian and Dan and all the rest of them didn't want me to tell you, but I think I should.

As you might have known, Sinead broke away from the Cahills the night that she got disowned by her parents. She came straight to Attleboro and handed in her official Cahill documents and told us that she was giving up. That she didn't want to live this lifestyle anymore. To be constantly criticized and judged.

That was four months ago.

She hasn't been heard from since, up until about a day ago.

She was found lying unconcious on the floor of her science lab, collapsed in a corner of the room. Her colleagues found her not too long after she.. passed.

According to official reports, she drank an entire bottle of serpent's venom and then collapsed on the floor and died.

I'm so sorry, Ham.

Amy Cahill.

Amy never did like to be the bearer of bad news.

And neither did Sinead.

But she sent a message when she drank that poison.

There is no true divide between where Cahills stand and where Vespers stand. We hide on opposite sides of the wall because we are afraid to stray away from the norm.

But those brave souls who dare scale the wall to explore both sides are the true heroes and the true saviors.

Thank you, Sinead.