The water lapped warmly at her toes, calling for her to play. She sat hunched on the sand, wind whipping her hair, and rubbed at the scarf around her forehead. Seven years, and she still couldn't bring herself to leave the house without it.
What is the matter with you, B'Elanna? Why do you hide your heritage?
I miss him, she would think, slamming through the house to her room. I miss him and I want him back, and maybe one of these days he'll see a picture of me and I'll have the scarf on, and I'll look normal. And maybe… maybe then he'll love me enough to come back.
The water slapped around her ankles, sloshing up in a sloppy welcome. But she stayed on the beach, curled into herself, and stared.