Brenna Banner was unaware of her condition at first.
Of course she was, no one was there to tell her. Her father had it, but he was in South America. Her mother was dead, long before Brenna could remember. Her aunt had it, but she had been sworn to secrecy.
So as far as Brenna could tell, she was in the middle of a perfectly normal family.
Well, not entirely. It was not normal to have a father with degrees in science. Nor was it normal that she had never seen her father since she was five.
The only thing her aunt, Jennifer Walters, would tell her about it is that her father and mother had gotten into an accident. Her father had survived, her mother was not as lucky.
"Well, why didn't Daddy stay with me?" Seven year old Brenna asked.
Her aunt shook her head. "He was afraid."
"Of what?"
"Of life without Betty, and of…." Jennifer shook her head. "Well, something else."
Oh, Brenna had seen pictures of her father, and her aunt talked sometimes about how much Brenna looked like him, and would tell her stories of her father, but the missing years from her life were a mystery. She had no contact with him.
Until Brenna found her father's address in her aunt's room one day in July and took it upon herself to speak to her father.
She sat down at the kitchen table and shook her black curls out of her face, frowning intently at the piece of blank paper in front of her. She was a bright girl, everyone said so. Her parents had been geniuses, it seemed only natural she was also smart for her age. Her babysitter never said a word about it, she'd gotten used to Brenna's odd habits.
Fifteen minutes after Brenna had begun constructing the letter, Jennifer came in the door after a hard day at the office, complaining about the case she'd been hired for as she paid the babysitter.
"Honestly, sometimes I'm not sure why I became a lawyer," she confessed as the woman left.
"Higher wages," Brenna said in all her seven-year-old wisdom, looking up with intelligent brown eyes.
Jennifer burst into laughter, going and ruffling Brenna's hair. "Watcha doin', Honey?"
Brenna looked up. "Writing to Daddy."
Jennifer's face sobered and she sat down next to Brenna. "That's a good idea," she said. She glanced over the letter. "I think he'll be very happy to receive this, don't you?"
Brenna shrugged. "Does he miss me?"
"Oh, Honey, I'm sure he does. Your father's just…" Jennifer trailed off, thinking of a word.
"Is Daddy sad?"
Jennifer glanced at Brenna and nodded. "You know, I think he is. Let's get writing."