No. No! You're wrong! She can't be dead. We had our special breakfast this morning after dropping Thali off at Aunt Nettie's. She took me to school, even stayed a few minutes to look at the book I'm making. She told me she was proud of how good my letters are getting. You're wrong. You're confused.

"Ziva," Abba said slowly, sounding sad for the first time Ziva could remember, "do you know what dead means?"

"Yes, Abba. Ima told me when Raf-- my hamster died. It means," Ziva paused, her brows furrowed in concentration as she struggled to remember what Ima had told her. Even though Ima had spent a long time explaining it and answering all of Ziva's questions, it was still very hard to understand. "It means that even though it looks like she's just asleep she's not. The part of her that makes her Ima is gone forever and even though she wants to come back and be with me she can't."

Ziva's eyes filled with tears and her father pulled the distraught five year old into his arms.

"I'm so sorry, Zivaleh. I'm so sorry," he murmured.

Ziva cried freely in his arms, not knowing that this was the last time she would be allowed to do so.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Ziva didn't understand why Aunt Nettie was so upset. She liked fighting and, it turned out, she was good at it. Besides, it made Abba proud to see her taking on the other students in her class. Having just turned five, she was the youngest by more than a full year and she was tiny for her age, but she was surprisingly strong, quick, and extremely determined. Abba said it would pay off later and Ziva liked having money to buy toys, even if she did have to wait for it.

Stepping onto the mat, Ziva took a deep breath and bowed to her opponent. He was one of the biggest boys in her class and she was slightly nervous to spar with him, but also excited because Ab would be extra proud if she won a fight with someone almost twice her size.

Ziva took a beating but at the end of the match still managed to pin the boy, knowing exactly how and when to strike to knock him down and keep him where she wanted him. Her father came down from the stands and hugged Ziva gruffly, pressing a little too tightly on her arm, where bruises were already beginning to blossom. Ziva gasped and felt tears well up in her eyes at the pain.

"Ziva Ayelet David, dry your eyes."

Ziva looked up at her father with surprise. He had never really scolded her before.

"You are a big girl now, Ziva. You must learn that David's do not cry."

Ziva nodded and willed the tears back, marshaling her expression to match the blankness she often saw in her father's face.

Eli David smiled slightly at his daughter's quick change in expression. In the months since his wife's death, Ziva had matured rapidly, taking her little sister under her wing and showing strength that he did not know she possessed. I can use this little one; indoctrinate her into Mossad in a way that no one has been before. Her training begins now, and by the time she is old enough to join she will be just as useful, in her own way, as Ari will be in his.