It's been three months since Ryleigh's death. The pain isn't as fresh and acute as it was then, but it's still there. A dull ache that won't go away. Sometimes I still believe she's still alive. I don't have any proof. Just this niggling doubt in the back of my mind. It sounds stupid, but I'd know if she was dead. I'd feel even worse than I do now.

Harm and I are getting along much better. We're back to where we were before Ryleigh and all the ugliness in the years prior. He's a lot more open about his feelings now. We spend hours just talking and it feels really good. I haven't told him that I love him, but I've hinted. He seems to understand though, because he's hinted the same. It's still too early for a relationship, but I'm confident in saying we're headed in that direction. If only Rye were hear to see us following her instructions.

Today's one of those days I really wish she was still around to talk to. I got an offer from a private firm. It's a very nice offer. I've tried the private practice thing and it didn't work for me then, but I've changed. I can't honestly say that I'm happy at JAG anymore. It's not my co-workers or our new commanding officer. I don't know what it is, but I do know Harm would be upset if I left. If she was here we could discuss it and maybe I wouldn't feel so torn.

Pushing the problem out of my mind, I sit on the couch with the day's mail in my lap. I toss the magazines and bills on the coffee table and pick up a heavy medium-sized box. I tear into the box and a thick hardcover book falls into my lap. I wince as the sharp corner digs into my thigh. A smile tugs at the corners of my lips when I read the book's title. A Few Good Men & Women: A History of the U.S. Navy's JAG Corps. The author is listed as anonymous, but I know this book. It's Rye's book.

When I open the book, a whiff of jasmine vanilla hits me. Tears fill my eyes when I read the dedication page. "All proceeds benefiting the Ryleigh Mackenzie Foundation – helping girls and women of all ages follow their dreams." In smaller print at the bottom in a very familiar handwriting, "Thank you for helping me be free, Sarah. I love you."

Suddenly the tears come and there's no way to stop them. I put the book aside and reach for the tissue box. Did she plan this before she died or has it been printed recently? I look through the book but there's nothing to indicate either way. Deciding it best to wait to read the book after I'm a little more composed, I turn my attention to the box. It's postmarked London but the return address is a P.O. box in New York. Peering into the box I find a folded piece of white note paper. It's a note from Ryleigh.

"So sis, when's the wedding? Oh no, don't give me that look. I know exactly how long it's been. Fine, fine, at least tell me everything's going all right with you and Harm.

By now I'm sure you figured out what happened. You always were too smart for anyone's good. I'm sorry it had to be this way. If I could do it all again, I would found a way to keep from hurting you. It's better this way, safer for you and everyone there.

You'll be happy to know I'm 100% cancer free. It was dicey for a while there, but we muddled through it. I wish you had been here. I missed you. I still miss you.

Harm's getting a letter similar to this one. I hope he doesn't hate me too much. It wasn't just about being free, you know. If I went back, I had to find a way to protect everyone I love. I couldn't bear for you to be pawns in some sicko's game.

Take care of your sailor, Sarah. Who knows, maybe we'll be seeing each other soon.

Don't worry about me; I'm happier than I've been in a long time. Free yourself; don't let yourself get trapped because it's what someone else wants you to do. In the end it will only make everyone miserable, trust me.

I love you,

Your younger and much more attractive sister."

I laugh and cry at the same time. It was almost like having a conversation with her. I understand better now why she had to do it. I don't like it, but I understand. Had I been in her position I would have done the same. Rereading the part about feeling trapped, I make a decision about the job offer. It's my life and my choice. Harm will just have to learn to deal. I mentally thank my friend for giving me just what I needed.

I reach for the phone to call the head of the firm when an idea hits me. I wonder how Harm will feel about honeymooning in London.