This is told from Ian POV.
And no, to me Natalie is not dead, even though I wrote her grave.
And this fic is just about the time when the hostages are rescued.
disclaimer: iamawesomepearl does not own the 39 clues...
I still remember the days when Natalie was innocent.
When she looked at the sky, the trees, and everything in wonder.
When she had friends. Real ones.
When we were inseparable.
The times when she twaddled about the mansion talking to mother, and being... well, not Natalieish.
Time has broken that Natalie, so dear to me.
Why can't she be that way?
Now she sneers and is cold, and we both know deep down, that she misses those times.
The times when she was free.
The times when she was not a shell of a person.
The times when she was the real Natalie.
Hey, I know this is short, but review.
Pearl:)