"Look at me! Look at me!" Samantha shouted to Will from the helm of the Flying Dutchmen. She stood on a barrel and was wearing a huge floppy hat that threatened to blow away at any moment and held a scallop shell. Will had no idea where the hat came from or how she got the barrel-which was almost her height and half full of water-up the steps, but she was just so happy up there. She had a huge smile on her face and couldn't stop laughing as she pretended to captain the ship.

The way the little girl made gestures and the fact that she was constantly checking her "compass" reminded Will of Jack Sparrow.

Meanwhile…

"You look well, Master Turner."

Even after all these years, Bootstrap Bill had to cringe at the sound of that voice. Even before the mutiny against Jack, the two men never really got along. They used to argue often and about little things that held no value at the end of the day. Up until the night before they marooned Jack, Bootstrap didn't even know about the mutiny. Part of him wished Pintel and Ragetti hadn't told him about it.

"Where's Jack?"

"I didn't maroon him if that's what you're asking. He's onboard the Pearl." Barbossa then frowned, scratching Jack the Monkey's chin. "Sparrow doesn't want much to do with anyone after his daughter died." He shook his head. "It's a shame. She was a bright little girl. Could've been a better pirate than most of us."

Bootstrap watched Barbossa in shock. Captain Hector Barbossa, the same man that tried to kill Jack on several occasions, actually cared about Samantha.

"She will be." Bootstrap corrected hesitantly. "She is a bright little girl and she will be a better pirate than all of us."

"Is?"

"She can't cross over yet. Samantha Sparrow didn't die. William accidentally bound her to the Dutchmen for the next four years, but after that, she's free."

"Is that so?" Barbossa asked with a smile. He was happy with the idea that, four years from that day, the little girl he carried to the beach seeking Calypso's help, will be the same happy girl he remembered.

Barbossa walked into the Main Hall of Shipwreck Cove unannounced. He figured that, since it was silent, Captain Teague was probably not in there. Barbossa decided to go in and wait for him. There was no way of knowing where Teague could be or how long he would be away, but he couldn't be away from Shipwreck Cove all day.

A little girl in a white nightgown sat cross-legged on the table in the middle of the room, trying to tie a piece of rope. She had a rag doll propped up next to her. Samantha was so focused on the rope that she didn't even notice Barbossa watching her.

After a few moments of watching her, Barbossa walked over and pulled out a chair next to her. He took the rope and tied it into a slip knot, slowly enough for her to watch. He then untied it and handed it back. This time, Samantha tied it into the slip knot. She looked up at Barbossa with a smile on her face. "Thanks!" She slid off the table. "I'm gonna show Grand Da! You stay right there!"

Less than a minute later, Samantha returned with Teague. She smiled at Teague, pointing at Barbossa. "See Grand Da! He's the man that helped me!"

"Come with me." Barbossa half asked, half ordered Bootstrap as he walked away.

That night, Samantha looked down at the folded paper Bootstrap handed her. She flipped the paper over and opened it. She blinked a few times in confusion, before handing it back. "Uncle Bootstrap, can you read it for me?"

'Miss Samantha,

Try not to cause too much trouble for the Turners. You just be a good little girl for them. I'll try to get word to your dad that you are with them. Be a good girl for him.

-Barbossa'

"Uncle Barbossa wrote me a letter!" Samantha shouted happily, taking the paper back.

"He did more than that." Barbossa mumbled in annoyance. Jack had left Samantha's old clothes in a chest onboard the Black Pearl. Perhaps it was out of instinct that Jack had brought a change of clothes for his dying child. In the chest was also the rag doll, an extra blanket, a pair of wooden swords, an old piece of rope, and a small journal full of drawings of knots.

After retrieving the chest from the Pearl, Bootstrap ended up following Barbossa through the Tortuga as he went through the list. It seemed as though Barbossa didn't trust Bootstrap to do it right. After finishing the list, Barbossa also bought a bushel of bright green apples for Samantha. No one knew if the people onboard the Flying Dutchmen could catch scurvy, but just in case….

Samantha sat on the barrel, wearing her old clothes: a white shirt, red vest, yellow sash, dark blue trousers, brown boots, and a black pearl pendant hanging on a gold chain. She had the letter tucked into her sash as she ate an apple. The rag doll was propped up next to her on the chest she sat on. "Uncle Bootstrap, can you help me write a letter?"

"To Barbossa?"

Samantha thought for a moment, before nodding. "Yeah! Him too! But I want to write a letter to Daddy first."

Bootstrap looked at Will, who was putting a small bed together in a small cabin near the Captain's Cabin. It was originally a records room; there were papers full of dark blue streaks scattered on the floor where they looked to have been soaked and dried repeatedly. They took apart a remarkably large table earlier and brought it up to the deck before Will started on the small wooden bed.

Now, Will looked up at Bootstrap. He didn't know how Jack might react from getting a letter from his supposedly dead daughter. He knew the reaction probably wouldn't be pretty. "Samantha-"

"Sammie. Everyone calls me Sammie. Except for Uncle Barbossa, but only he can call me Miss Samantha or Missy." She then frowned. "Auntie Lizzie told me that it took her years to get you to not call her Miss Swann. Can we just skip the years and have you just call me Sammie?"

'Jack Sparrow.' Will thought. "I don't think it's a good idea to write to him."

"I don't care. I wanna write a letter to Daddy."

Then Bootstrap had an idea. "Sammie, no one can read your handwriting. Let's wait until it's neater before writing a letter to your Daddy."

"No!" Samantha shook her head. "If you can read it…well…you can read it! I don't want anyone to read it except Daddy!"

Will looked up at Bootstrap. He could still remember when he was a child. When he learned how to write, the first letter he wrote was to his father. Even though his handwriting was just as horrible as Samantha's was now, he was still very proud of it back then. He could also remember the excitement his father's reply brought to him. "You can write it in the morning."

I actually forgot that I already finished this chapter months ago...