AN: Sorry it's a day late! This was a tough chapter. Even though I wrote it weeks ago, I still had to revise and edit it, and it was tricky to get the balance just right. I *think* I succeeded, or at least I hope I did! Thanks for reading, and I hope you like it. I'd love to hear from you!

Connect

The next morning, Rio dragged herself out of bed just as the darkness outside was beginning to fade, her head pounding after so much crying and so little sleep. She dragged herself out to the kitchen, still wearing the clothes she'd had on last night. No one was there to see her, anyway, and she wasn't sure if she'd care even if anyone was. She started the coffee maker, opened the refrigerator door and peered in, then groaned and closed the door again. When the coffee finished, she poured a cup and gulped it down, ignoring the pain as she burned her tongue. Then she tied her hair back, pulled on her boots and headed out the door.

Neil's house was a short walk away, just across the street from and a little ways west of her driveway. So even stumbling as slowly as she was, it only took her fifteen minutes to get from her door to his. The old brick house was dark and silent in the twilight stillness of the pre-dawn, and she hesitated before softly rapping on his door. There was no sound from within, though, so after a moment she knocked a little louder, then once more even louder still. Nothing. Not a sound came from within. She tried the door; it swung open, and she stepped in.

The dimly lit house was eerily still. Neil's bed was empty and unmade, dirty dishes were still piled in the sink, and a basket of dirty laundry waited by the back door. She wondered where he could be so early, and that's when she noticed—his guitar was gone.

At first she thought maybe he'd just taken it somewhere, maybe to play it out in the woods or to his special spot near the waterfall. But when she realized that his portable stereo and his music collection were also missing, it hit her—he was gone. Actually, really, truly gone.

She looked around frantically for something—anything—a note, or a map, or some clue as to where he'd gone and when he'd be back. But the house gave up none of his secrets, and with a sob, she turned and fled back to her farmhouse.

Shaking and crying, she poured a cup of coffee, but her hands were trembling so hard that she couldn't even lift the cup to her lips. She dumped it out into the sink, and turned to one of the cabinets. Pulling out a half-empty bottle, she clumsily, frantically, twisted the cap off and held it over the mug. But then she paused before pouring, and suddenly the memories washed over her all in a wave… getting drunk at Julia's wedding and how she supposedly came on to Vaughn, mistaking him for Neil. Getting tanked up on the anniversary of her parents' deaths every single year since they died, including that first year, when she apparently kissed Vaughn. She thought of all the times she'd been told afterwards about scenes she'd made while three sheets to the wind, both on the islands and there in the village. And she pulled that bottle back and glared at it.

"You've brought me nothing but trouble," she mumbled under her breath to it, tears flowing down her cheeks. Then she set it down and began to pull other bottles out of the same cupboard. "You're liars, all of you! You make me feel better, make me think everything is okay—but only for a while. You make me forget one set of troubles, but then you bring me a bunch of new problems in addition. Well, you and I are through!" And she unscrewed the caps off each of them, pouring the contents down the drain and hurling them into the bin with such force that several of them shattered, sending a few shards of glass flying out and onto the floor.

When she was done, she bent down and picked up the broken glass from the floor, dropping it into the bin. After she picked up the last shard, she noticed a red line trickling down her wrist. Turning her hand over, she saw that she'd somehow cut herself on one of the pieces of glass. She hadn't even felt it—would never even have noticed if she hadn't seen the blood.

She stood there, staring as the blood seeped down, slowly dripping onto the floor. It was surprising to her how painless it had been, not at all like when she'd cut herself with a knife while cooking or with her razor in the shower. She looked at the lengthy wound near the base of her thumb, then she lifted up the shard to examine it. It had a smudge of blood on it, and one of its edges was stained with crimson. Bringing it closer, she turned it over and over in her fingers, staring at the smooth edges.

How long she stood like that, she couldn't have said. But after a time, she started as if from a trance, gave a ragged sob, took a deep breath… and dropped that last shard into the bin with the others. She turned and walked out the door, ignoring the blood trickling down her fingertips and dripping onto the grass as she made her way to the pet house to begin her chores.

She already knew Vaughn was gone, and she felt a mixture of relief, anger, and, oddly enough, even some sadness at his departure.

After telling him to go away, she had run into the house and locked herself in to have a good cry, but even over her unchecked weeping she could hear the sound of gravel crunching under steel-clad hooves a little while later. Once the sound had died away, she had thrown herself down onto her bed, pulling the blankets over her head and wishing she'd never gotten out of bed that morning. Then she'd cried until at last she fell asleep, some hours later, only to startle awake from miserable dreams soon afterwards.

She trudged listlessly into the barn to fill the mangers, and as expected, Flash's stall was empty. She hesitated, then walked over and stared into it for a moment before turning towards the hay rack at the back of the barn.

That's when she saw it there, lying on the floor just outside the stall. A flash of brilliant blue—trampled and dirty, but beautiful still: a long, slender, sky-blue feather.

As she bent to pick it up, her chest tightened as she realized the who and the why and the how of it.

Vaughn had intended to propose to her, in the traditional manner of the region—by presenting her with a single blue feather before asking her hand in marriage.

Tears trickled down her cheek, and she threw it down to the ground, gasping for breath. She raised a foot to stomp on it, to grind it beneath her heel, but just before she brought her boot down on top of it, she stopped. She stood with her foot poised over it, then heaved a long sigh and put her foot down before stooping to pick the feather up again. Rejected and discarded, she thought as she gently brushed the dirt and bits of hay from its azure barbs—much like its owner must feel, and much like she herself felt right then. She walked over to the shelf where she kept her reference books, pulled down the large volume where she kept all her stock records, and flipped it open to the page for horses. There were notes there on her own mare, but also on both Black Jack and Flash Back, since she kept records of all animals that resided in her barn, no matter how briefly. Then she gently placed the feather on the page, closed the book, and returned it to the shelf before getting on with her day's work.

At least she'd have plenty to keep her busy, she thought as she grabbed an armload of hay, now that she was once again all on her own.

Fall was coming to an end with winter close on its heels, yet still she'd heard nothing from Neil. Rod had been concerned about his animals, but when he asked their landlady, it turned out that Neil had stopped off on his way out of town, late that Thursday evening after leaving the village. He'd explained that something had come up and he'd be gone for a while. He didn't know how long, possibly quite some time, he'd told her. He'd paid for feed and boarding for his animals for half a year in advance, and said that if he was gone longer than that, she had permission to sell some of his animals in order to pay the cost of boarding the remainder. She told Rod that he'd seemed deeply upset by something, and that she hoped it wouldn't come to that—that he'd be back before very long. And that was it—that was the only word he'd left with anyone.

She had, however, received a short letter from Vaughn, several days after he'd left. It was postmarked from a town on the other side of the mountains, and farther south. It read:

My dearest Rio,

I'm real sorry for all the trouble I caused you. I love you so much and wanted you back so badly, I was pretty much blind to everything else. I wish things were different, but I guess you don't always get what you wish for. I hope things work out for the best for you. I'm not too good with apologies, but please believe me when I say that I'm sorry with all my heart for all that I put you through.

Vaughn

P.S.—I hope someday you can forgive me, and that you'll write to me now and then. I'd really like to hear how you're doing, and I'd like to hear how our daughter is growing up, too. You can write to me care of Mirabelle for now, until I find someplace to settle.

She no longer felt the rage that had flared up after his actions that awful day. In fact, she didn't feel much of anything—she was just numb. Her grief had dwindled to a dull ache, a heaviness in her heart. And people whispered to each other whenever she passed by, saying that she didn't smile or laugh anymore, and what a crying shame that was.

She could understand—or at least, she thought she could understand—how Neil must be feeling. To be told out of the blue that your parents were really your grandparents, your sister was actually your mother, and that your girlfriend's ex-boyfriend, and the father of her secret child, was also your father… that was bad enough. But then to catch your long-lost father kissing your girlfriend on top of it all…. It felt… well, almost a little incestuous, truthfully. But even though the idea of all the odd inter-relationships made her squirm uncomfortably every time she tried to sort them out, one thing she was sure of: she loved Neil. Before, she had only thought she might be in love with him, but she just wasn't sure. But that night when he drove away, leaving her behind, she realized the truth. And she hadn't had the chance to tell him… even if he'd been willing to hear right then. She couldn't blame him for running away… but all the same, she wished with all her heart that he'd stayed.

The day of the Foliage Festival arrived, but Rio went about her business as usual. She hadn't attended any festivals since Neil had left—not even the Chicken Show. She didn't even know who they'd gotten to judge it in his place, and she didn't have it in her to care much, either.

Usually she loved this festival—the crisp fall air, the brilliant scarlet foliage, the smoky fires, and not least of all, the roasted sweet potatoes—scorched black outside, painfully hot inside, sweet and delicious and perfect. She'd always paired off with Iroha to help gather leaves for the fires, ever since the first year they'd started the tradition. But she just couldn't muster up the enthusiasm this time.

Returning from her fields later that morning, dragging two bushels of sweet potatoes behind her, Rio spotted a stranger on her doorstep, knocking on her door, a battered suitcase standing on the porch next to her. She called out a greeting, and the woman turned quickly towards her as she approached the house. She was a pleasant-looking, middle-aged woman with blonde hair, wearing a cozy wool poncho over a sweater, jeans, and tall brown boots.

"Are you looking for the Foliage Festival?" Rio called as she stopped by the pasture gate to wipe the sweat from her brow. "The festival grounds are on the other side of town. I have to take these sweet potatoes over, so I can show you the way if you can wait a few minutes. They won't be starting for a while yet, anyway. Probably not for another two, maybe three hours, judging by the sun," she said, peering up at the sky.

"Oh, is there a festival in town? That must be why none of the businesses were open. No, I'm not here for the festival. I'm looking for someone. A woman named Rio. Rio… Rivers, I think?" she replied, frowning slightly as she tried to recall the correct name.

Blinking in surprise, Rio said, "I'm Rio Rivera. Are you looking for me? You are…?"

"Oh, yes, Rivera—that's right. Sorry about that, I'm terrible with names," she said. "Is there… is there someplace we could go to talk? Someplace quiet? I don't know if there's any place open today, if there's a festival going on…."

Sizing her up, Rio sighed. "Well… no, no one's open. Let me take these on over—they're waiting for me to deliver them right now. Then we can go inside."

"Perfect," the woman said, looking relieved. "May I come with you? I'm curious to get a look around the town while I'm here."

"Yeah, sure," Rio said, grabbing the large baskets by the handles again. "So… you have a name?"

"Oh, yes! I'm so sorry. My name is Wendy."

Rio jumped as if she'd been jabbed with a pin. Turning slowly to look at her guest with wide eyes, she said, "Wendy? Wendy…?"

"Wendy Vale," she replied with a smile. "But you're more likely to recognize my maiden name—Wendy Swanbeck."

This was a little surreal—no, a lot surreal—Rio thought to herself as she trudged through the technicolor woods. After recovering from her initial shock from learning that the stranger on her doorstep was none other than Neil's birth mother, she had suggested that, as she wanted to see the village and its environs, perhaps she'd like to go to the festival after all. Wendy had agreed, and so Rio found herself hauling around a sack of leaves while Iroha and Wendy both gathered the leaves to fill it.

Since it would be impossible to have any meaningful conversation in the woods anyway, since they were full of villagers and tourists, she'd asked Iroha if she'd mind if Wendy joined them. Delighted that Rio was joining the fun after all, Iroha readily agreed. So the three of them had set off, and while Wendy exclaimed enthusiastically about the abundance of natural beauty surrounding them, Rio nervously wondered how and when to bring up the subject of Neil—where he was, what he was doing, when he'd be back. She was sure he'd been to see his mother, or at least written to her—for how else would she have known about her? She just hoped he'd also told her of his plans.

Back at the festival grounds, they ate their fill of the scalding hot sweet potatoes. Wendy praised them enthusiastically, saying that she couldn't remember when she'd last tasted anything so delicious, and she ate two large potatoes before sighing regretfully that she couldn't eat another bite. Afterwards, Rio took her around and introduced her to the villagers, all of whom were surprised to hear her last name. Everyone wanted to know if she was related to Neil, which she only vaguely affirmed, and then proceeded to praise him and ask after him. She responded with equal vagueness to those enquiries, too, but no one seemed to notice or mind.

Once the festival ended, the two of them returned to the farm. Rio made a pot of tea, and they sat across from each other at her dining table, sipping tea in the awkward silence that ensued.

After a few minutes, Rio set her cup down. "So… you're, uhh… you're really Neil's mom? What Vaughn said was all true then?"

Taken slightly aback by the directness of her questions, even though she'd been expecting them, Wendy blinked for a moment before nodding. "Yes, it's true. Or, at least from what Neil said, it's all true."

"You've seen him then? How is he?" Rio asked, a little more quickly than she'd intended, and she blushed slightly and looked down at her cup. "I mean, is he all right? Is… is he coming home soon?"

Wendy set her cup down and looked thoughtfully at the young woman before her.

She'd just finished drying the dinner dishes and was putting them away when someone pounded urgently on the door. Glancing at her husband with a concerned look, she hurried to open it as he followed close behind.

Although she'd hadn't any idea who would be knocking at her door, Neil was just about the last person she expected to see standing there on her doorstep, shivering with more than the chill of the evening, staring back at her with his eyes dark and wild.

"Neil! What is it? What's wrong? Come on in, tell me all about it. Can I get you anything? Tea? Coffee?"

He shook his head as he squeezed past her and wordlessly stalked back to the living room. She and her husband looked at each other, puzzled by his sudden arrival and strange appearance, then followed him back.

"Neil? What—"

He turned and looked at her searchingly. "Tell me, do you know a man called Vaughn?"

She felt the room tilt suddenly as her knees buckled, and her husband quickly caught her and helped her to a seat, Neil turning to watch as she sat down weakly, her face white as a sheet.

"V-Vaughn? How did you—"

"Is it true then, what he says about the two of you?" he interrupted. She just stared at him, uncomprehending in her shock.

Glancing quickly at her husband, he'd looked keenly at her. "Is it true that you are my mother, and that he's my father?"

And then everything went black.

After she regained consciousness, she told him the whole story—essentially the same that Vaughn had told him, except explaining how her parents had forced her to give him to them to raise, threatening to kick them both out if she didn't. She hadn't known until Neil told her that Vaughn's father had kicked him out—all those years, she said, she thought he'd just run away and abandoned her, as her father repeatedly told her. It was a shock to find that Neil had somehow, against the odds, bumped into him and learned the truth. It was even more of a shock when she learned that they'd met via Neil's girlfriend—who also happened to be Vaughn's ex, and the mother of another child of his. It was almost more than she could believe, like something from a tabloid headline.

Then Neil had wanted to go and confront his parents—or grandparents, rather. She was against the idea, but he told her stonily that they'd made his childhood a living hell, that he was suffering from their abuse even to this day, and that he was 'fucking goddessdamned tired' of their lies and their self-righteousness and their hypocrisy. He wasn't asking her to come with him unless she wanted to, but either way, he was going. And then he'd stood up and left. After a moment's hesitation, she looked up at her husband, who in spite of it all still held her hand with tender affection. He returned her look and slowly nodded his head, giving her hand a reassuring squeeze, and together they followed Neil.

It hadn't gone well.

It turned out that her parents had known all along that Vaughn had been kicked out of his parents' house, that everything they'd said about him had been lies. She was nearly speechless with anger—and she was not normally prone to anger, being a kind and patient soul by nature. But this—this was too much.

Then the confrontation had turned physical when Neil's grandfather lost his temper and took a swing at him, intending to 'teach him a lesson', as he put it. But Neil had grown in both stature and in strength since he'd left several years ago. They struggled briefly, then Neil punched him in the gut hard enough that the older man sank to the floor, unable to rise or take a breath for several minutes. His grandmother panicked and run to a back room, returning with a shotgun in her hand. They'd taken off, then, all three of them, slamming the door just as she fired—though if it was intentional or accidental, they couldn't say, nor did any of them care to return to inquire.

Returning to Wendy's home, they'd collapsed on the living room sofas—exhausted and frazzled—and after a few minutes, Wendy's husband, Gary, had gone to grab some cold beers for all three of them. And then they talked, well into the night—about her and Vaughn, and Neil and Rio, about what it was like watching him grow up thinking they were siblings, and her struggles to keep her secret whenever her parents treated him badly. She'd tried to curb them, but she feared the repercussions of telling him the truth. She wished—now, in retrospect—that she'd had more courage, that she'd fought to keep him, even if it did mean being forced out of her home. But the past was the past, and she couldn't change it now. She could only act in the present, and hope for the future, she said with a sigh as she looked at him with years of regret in her eyes.

They sat and talked and drank until they'd all started to nod off where they sat. They'd put him up for the night—for as long as he wanted to stay, they said. Both of them, Gary as well as Wendy, even though it couldn't be easy for him to hear of his wife's past and to discover that his brother-in-law was, in fact, his stepson. But he was a compassionate man, and he took it in stride, more concerned for Wendy and Neil than for himself. Which was a large part of why she loved him, she'd thought drowsily to herself as she fell asleep that night, wrapped in her husband's strong arms.

In the morning, Neil was gone; the only trace he left behind was a brief thank-you note lying on the pillow of the neatly made bed.

"Is it because of him, that Vaughn guy?" Gary had asked her as she packed her suitcase some days later. "Are you… are you hoping to find him there?"

Dropping her neatly folded shirt and looking at him in surprise, her heart melted when she saw the anxiety and concern in his eyes. "No, honey. It's not about Vaughn. He's ancient history. Even if I did happen to run into him, I don't know what we'd have to talk about after all these years. I don't even know what kind of person he grew up to be. Though I have to say that if he's running around fathering children with women almost half his age, I don't think he's likely to be someone I'd care to know."

"Then… is it because of Neil? Is that why you need to go?" Gary said, still looking worried.

"No… not exactly. Maybe in a manner of speaking…." She paused in her packing and stared out the window. Everything had changed so rapidly, and she was still absorbing it all.

"Then… then why? Why go there at all, if you're not looking for your old flame and you're not looking for Neil?" He looked genuinely confused.

Wendy sighed and lay the last sweater on the pile and closed the suitcase, zipping and buckling it tightly shut. Then she turned and stroked her husband's cheek, saying, "I'm going because I need to, Gary. I'm going for her sake and mine—for us both."

"I don't exactly know where Neil is," Wendy replied after a lengthy pause, picking up her cup again and sipping her tea. "He's, well… he's doing as well as can be expected. His whole life has been turned upside down. I mean, can you just imagine…?"

Rio nodded. "Yes. Yes, I can. I've done almost nothing but imagine, ever since… ever since Vaughn told us what happened. I still can hardly wrap my head around it. And then… then when he caught Vaughn kissing me…."

Wendy looked up at her, startled. "What's that? Neil didn't mention anything like that to me. What happened?" She listened closely while Rio told her what had happened then and afterwards, then nodded as if satisfied.

"Well, my dear, it sounds like you've been placed in a very awkward position as well. Still, I'm glad that you were honest with me. Like Neil, I never could abide deception. And that's why my parent's actions are so… contemptible. They wouldn't tolerate any deception from anyone else, especially us—not even a hint. Yet it seems they had no difficulty lying to me all these years, and deceiving Neil, too. Unfortunately, I don't think they even recognize their own hypocrisy.

"Anyway, Neil left the next morning—he just stayed the one night. He didn't give any indication where he was going, what his plans were, when he'd be back… nothing. I know as much as you do, now."

Rio slumped in her chair. "I… I see. Then… you're here looking for him?"

"Oh, no. I was pretty sure he wasn't going to heading this way yet—it's still all too raw for him, I expect. And I'm sure he dreads running into Vaughn more than anything."

Rio sighed. "If he'd just get in touch with me, I could tell him…. You see, I kicked Vaughn out the night Neil left. He's long gone now. He wrote a while ago, from some town east of the mountains. Red Rock or Red River or something like that, I think it was. Frankly, I didn't take much notice."

"Kicked him out?" Wendy asked, scowling.

"Oh, not like that—he wasn't living here!" Rio hastened to explain. "I mean, he'd been working for me while living in the inn. I told him to leave and not come back, that I didn't want to see him ever again."

Wendy clicked her tongue disapprovingly. "Well, I have to say, it sounds like he's certainly changed quite a bit since I knew him. I mean—and no reflection at all on you, my dear—to go and get a girl so much younger than him pregnant, shirking his responsibilities…. Not at all how I thought he'd turn out to be when we were young."

Rio shook her head. "Oh, it's not like that—I mean, not exactly. He didn't know about it. And yes, I know there was something of an age difference between us—close to fifteen years, in fact. But as far as I know, I was the first real girlfriend he'd had—at least, as an adult," she added, turning a little pinker.

"Well, that's neither here nor there. Though I confess all my information comes from Neil, who is maybe not altogether impartial," she added with a smile.

"You could say that," Rio agreed faintly. "Then… if you're not looking for Neil, why…?"

Wendy rose and wandered over to one of the windows. "You certainly do have a lovely farm. However do you manage all that work all by yourself?"

Rio shrugged, her attention momentarily diverted. "I like to work hard. I find it satisfying." Then she gave a little snort of laughter. "Ironically, that's how I met both Vaughn and Neil—they were the animal dealers I dealt with. Vaughn in the Sunshine Islands, and Neil here in Echo Village."

"I see. And… your parents? Are they farmers, too?"

"No… my parents are dead." Wendy turned quickly, exclaiming in dismay. "It… it's okay. It was years ago, before I moved to the islands and met Vaughn. They were wonderful people. I'm sure Neil would have liked them, and I know they'd have approved of him. My dad was a teacher, and my mom was a homemaker. I was an only child, so I have no family now—I mean, other than my daughter. But I gave her up for adoption, so…."

"So she counts and she doesn't. She's not yours anymore, but at the same time she'll always be yours. Right?" Rio looked down at her hands and nodded. "I understand," Wendy added, kindly. "It wasn't quite the same with me and Neil, but it was an adoption of sorts all the same."

She returned to her seat and finished her cup of tea. "I'd like to spend another day here in the village. You mentioned an inn?"

Rio looked up, mildly surprised. "Oh, yes, there's one at the other end of the village. I can take you there," she said, rising.

"No need, dear. I think I can find it. It's a small town, after all." She stood up and carried her cup out to the kitchen. "I do have a favor to ask, though. If it's not too much of an imposition, I'd love to follow you around on your farm. You know, see what a typical day is like." Smiling at Rio's surprised expression, she continued. "We weren't farm folk ourselves. I've never even been on a farm, except to buy vegetables or eggs from a stand. So I'm terribly curious as to what goes on behind the scenes."

"Of course," Rio replied, standing up to see her guest out the door. "Though I have to warn you, my day starts early."

"I can imagine. What time shall I be here?"

"If you come at 6:00, I'll make you breakfast. That's what… that's what Vaughn always did—neither the inn nor the restaurant served breakfast early enough, so he'd join me here in order to get an early start."

"Well, then, I'd best be on my way. Thank you, Rio. I'll see you bright and early!" And with that, she picked up her suitcase and left.

As promised, Wendy was at the farm promptly at 6:00. Rio had just finished dressing when she knocked on the door. They ate a quick breakfast, during which Wendy asked Rio questions about her farm. Then they washed the dishes, grabbed another cup of coffee, and headed out.

Rio went about her work as usual, following her daily routine of caring for her animals, followed by tending to her crops and her orchards. They stopped for lunch at noon, and a cup of tea in the afternoon after she had finally finished her daily chores and could afford to take the time for a short break.

Her work wasn't over yet, though—she still had housework to do. As she pulled her cleaning supplies out of her closet, Wendy took her leave, thanking her for letting her spend the day. She planned to leave the next day, but promised to stop by and say goodbye first. Then she left Rio to her housework, and went for a walk through the village.

She stopped by all the houses and shops in the village—there weren't many—chatting with any of the villagers who could spare a few minutes. She learned about how Rio had practically single-handedly saved the village from collapse, sparking the revival that continued still. The town had tripled in population since Rio had undertaken that task, she was told, and the festival grounds were now filled to bursting at most of the festivals, rather than being almost empty as they had been before her arrival. She was both pleased and impressed by what she observed and heard that day.

The next day, she packed up and left mid-morning. She stopped by the farm to say good bye to Rio on her way out of town. Rio looked anxiously at her, as if she had many questions she wanted to ask but didn't quite know how, and Wendy smiled at her. "I know, Rio, I know. And I wish I could answer your questions. But I promise you, I've told you all that I know. I wish I knew where he was, too—believe me, I'm as worried for him as you are. And, like you, I have to accept that he may never return. If I hear from him, I'll let you know, and I hope you'll do the same for me.

"I'll tell you this, though. Should he ever return—you are exactly the kind of woman I'd like to see him with. From what I've seen and heard, I can tell you are a hard-working, kind, generous, and affectionate person. You have good friends here who think the world of you, and many admirers." She gently placed a hand on her cheek. "And I also learned that everyone here, bar none, is concerned for you. Each and every person I spoke with. None of them know what happened, of course, but they're all upset that Neil vanished and left you heartbroken."

Rio looked away, tears in her eyes. "I know they mean it kindly… but I don't want them to be angry with Neil. I miss him, and I wish with all my heart that he hadn't left. But… I can understand why he left, I think. That's why I've kept so much to myself lately, though. I don't want to be pitied, and I don't want them to put him down when they don't have a clue what really happened. I can't stop them from talking, though, so I just keep to myself."

Wendy sighed. "Well, you know best, I suppose. Still… just remember that your friends are there for you when you need them, same as you are for them. They'd love the chance to care for you as you do for them, I think. It was real nice to meet you, Rio. I hope…." She shook her head and turned away, leaving her sentence unfinished.

Rio walked her to the road out of town, where a taxi waited for her. She watched her go, waving until the car disappeared around a distant bend in the road. Then she turned and slowly walked back to her farm, feeling somehow even heavier in spirit than before.

Disclaimer: Harvest Moon: A New Beginning, and the locations and characters in this story belong to Natsume Inc. and MarvelousAQL Inc. The story's plot is my own invention.
Disclaimer: Harvest Moon DS: Sunshine Islands, and the locations and characters in this story belong to Natsume Inc. and Marvelous Interactive Inc. The story's plot and some characters & locations are my own invention.