Kristoff didn't want to tell Anna the truth about what he had been going through every time there was a storm. He didn't want her to worry about him more than she already did every time he headed up the North Mountain. "It's nothing, Anna. I'm sorry for worrying you," he apologized as he hid under his blankets.

Anna sighed, not pushing the matter, and she left the room after kissing Kristoff's head gently. The doctor came into the room and checked on Kristoff. After he left, Kristoff closed his eyes, going back to sleep. He had another nightmare as soon as he fell asleep.

"Mom? Dad?" a three-year-old Kristoff asked as his mother's younger brother picked him up gently. His parents kissed his head and he couldn't help but smile. As they left on the ship that was scheduled to depart from the docks at 1:30 P.M., Kristoff frowned again, feeling that something would go terribly wrong. Two weeks later, a letter had arrived from the kingdom of Corona. The letter said that Kristoff's parents, along with the crew that had gone with them, had been lost at sea due to a terrible storm. There were no survivors. Kristoff cried himself to sleep that night after his uncle read the letter.

Kristoff woke up, hyperventilating, as he fought the blankets on top of him. He pushed the blankets off of him and immediately regretted doing so. He started to shiver and grabbed a coat. He wrapped the fabric around him as he lit a fire in the fireplace. He sat down in a chair near the fireplace and sobbed into the fabric. He cried over his lost parents for the first time again in years. For the first time in eighteen years, he had never felt truly alone.