Mama had always said she was a new year's miracle. After all, she'd been born on the first day of spring, sometime around 6 am. Mama was funny in that way. She always said that the year started on the first day of spring, not in the middle of a freezing winter. So while my family always did have a small celebration on December 31st through January 1st, it never really compared to the jubilation felt by all on the first day of spring, which coincidentally was her birthday.

However, this birthday, her eighteenth birthday to be precise, was far from its usual celebration. Rachel had been walking for what felt like forever on this dirt road, her backpack rubbing against my sweaty back. It was approaching noon, and the shadows from the trees were hardly providing any cover. She was sticky, tired, and more than a little cranky.

As she entered a clearing, clouds covered the sun. For what felt like the first time in forever, Rachel smiled, turning her face to the sky. She shrugged off her bag and sank down near a brook, closing my eyes and allowing the water noises and gentle breeze calm her frazzled mind.

She heard a thump and opened her eyes. About 20 feet ahead was a large, dark mass. She stared at it for a minute, before the whispering met her ears.

"Rachel…"

She was on my feet in an instant, looking anxiously around, but the voice seemed to have no origin. It was as if it was being carried over by the wind.

"Rachel…This is terrible! You need to help that person…"

"Who are you?" She called out.

"Don't worry about who I am…Quickly, help him..."

Rachel shrugged, mostly to herself. Slowly, she approached the fallen person. As she drew closer, she discerned that the face-down lump was a male with gray hair wearing a trench coat and a hat. "Sir?"

The blonde crouched down and rolled him over. After a pretty basic examination, as she didn't feel too comfortable touching the stranger, she decided he exhibited signs of dehydration. Rachel ran back over to her abandoned backpack and groped inside for anything that could possible hold water. Her hand found an empty water bottle, and, after running to the river to fill it, she pinched the man's mouth open and dumped the water all over his head.

The man groaned and stirred; after a minute or so, he opened his eyes.

"What…what happened to me?"

"I don't know. I witnessed you passing out."

"Why am I all wet?"

"I woke you up." Rachel chewed her lip. The man slowly sat up.

"I remember now," the man started, looking off past Rachel. "I was foraging and must have collapsed from the heat." The man returned his gaze to Rachel. "It looks like I have you to thank for saving me. I appreciate it." He tipped his hat at her and smiled.

"It was nothing, sir," Rachel answered, diverting her gaze.

"It was a little more than nothing," the man chuckled. "I cannot say I've ever seen you in these parts, though…I hope you won't take offense if I've got this wrong, but are you Rachel?"

First the whisper, now this guy…it wasn't as if she was wearing a name tag! Rachel nodded, nonetheless.

"You are! Did your parents tell you about me? My name is Dunhill."

Suddenly, it clicked, and Rachel was relating this man, Dunhill, to multiple stories. Her father never had a bad word to say about the man, who, as Rachel now remembered, was the mayor of Echo Village. The man whom her parents had stayed with on multiple occasions. The man whom she was lying to.

Rachel smiled. "If I remember correctly, you have a weakness for smooth scotch and photographing women."

"Did your mama tell you that? I swear, I never asked her to pose naked!" Rachel giggled and Dunhill sighed. "Never mind. Anyway, there's such a strong family resemblance, it caught me a bit off guard. You look just like your mother! Well, except for your eyes. Those eyes are all Phillip's! I've known your folks for a long time, and they sent a letter saying you were coming."

Rachel felt a pang of guilt at the mention of the letter. She shook of the feeling and focused on the man in front of her, who was still rambling on.

"Yes, they said they were sending me a hard worker, and that I should make use of them however I please!"

Rachel balked; she was pretty sure she hadn't written that in the letter!

Dunhill chortled. "I'm only joking, don't worry. The town is this way; follow me."

Rachel swung her backpack back onto her aching shoulders and followed Dunhill across the bridge, into her new beginning.