What? But it's Tuesday! And yet, we're here with a new chapter... We guess this year you were all nice and wore masks and all? Hohoho! Santa came early to this story. Happy Christmas week! :)

We're publishing today, Thursday and Saturday. A little gift for all of you as a thanks for all the support you've given us these past few weeks. It's been amazing sharing this story with you. We love every minute of it. And keep sending messages back and forth every time any of you leaves a message. We feel very grateful about all of this, truly.

Now, because this story wouldn't be the same without music, and because some of you try to decipher a chapter before reading it based on our choice of songs... here you have today's playlist. Even if it feels anti-climatic that it doesn't have any Christmas carols.

-Swing - Zero 7

-Birdsong - Beau Diako, Claudia Bouvette

-Beau Paysage - Orbe

-Once Upon A Time - Air

-May 4th - The Barr Brothers

-Gotta Have You - The Weepies

-Forever Like That - Ben Rector

Also, important today: we do have a trigger warning for some past abuse and dissociation. Please, if this resonates with you, reach out to someone you trust and talk if you need to. Have something warm and comforting.

Now... that's it for today. Let us know what you think and take care this holiday week. Do lots of zoom conferences with your loved ones and maybe even a cookie decorating competition in one of them. Above all, take care.

Chapter 10

They arrived at Service Ontario early and there wasn't any wait line. Gilbert got out of the car with her, after giving her a facemask. He had ordered some reusable ones and they had been in his mailbox when he had retrieved Anne's statement the day before. They put them on (he had found some pretty ones with flowers for her, and she seemed happy and grateful in the morning) and went to the door. The officer at the door looked at them.

"Hello dears!" the office in the door greeted them. It was a plump woman in her forties, all smiles and kindness. "Are you both coming for something?"

"I'm sorting out my OHIP? I just moved…" the woman nodded, still smiling.

"And you?" she asked Gilbert.

"Oh, I'm just with her, I drove here," Gilbert explained.

"I'm sorry, dear, but only you can go inside. Your husband will have to wait for you outside," the woman said. Both flushed violently.

"He's not…" Anne tried to say. Gilbert lost his words.

"Oh! I'm so sorry. You just both look so good together, I'm sorry to have assumed that. You are together though? You're not supposed to drive if it's not with people from your same household… I mean, I understand if you're not married, but you are together, right?"

"We live together," Gilbert answered confidently. They weren't together, but they weren't breaking any rules either. The woman nodded, unperturbed. For her, they were together. "I'll wait for you in the car, Anne."

"Come along, then, I'll show where to take your turn. Take some sanitizer first...," the woman said, a sweet voice, guiding Anne inside and stopping at the sanitizer station. Anne dutifully received the pump of disinfectant and rubbed her hands, willing the sticky liquid to go away quickly. "So, you live with him? So lucky of you. Both of you, I must say. A feast for the eyes. Seriously not together? You would look good. Imagine the babies!" she continued, not allowing Anne to say a word. "Have you seen his buttocks? Oh, dear, how do you live with him?"

"What?" she was confused by then. She never thought she would get dizzy at any amount of talking, but this was too much for her. She was not talking about Gilbert's buttocks with anyone.

"Your man, dear. The one you say you're not with. You should be. Take my advice, dear, grasp him while you can. Perfect timing for you now, with lock down and everything… OHIP, you said?" Anne nodded, mortified. She could see Gilbert from the window, who was making faces at her, trying to check if everything was ok. She tried to convey how desperate she was and he just started laughing. The woman pushed the screen quickly and waited while it printed the number. "Here you have, they'll call you soon enough. Take my advice, dear. He is a catch. Make babies with him. They'll have the cutest eyes and red hair. Just cut his hair. He'll be even more handsome. Or is he trying to emulate our Prime Minister?"

"Everything sorted out?" Gilbert asked when she came back to his car. He was in the parking lot, a book on his lap.

"Yes. I have a paper that says I'm covered as of now, and then the card should be coming in the mail in a couple of weeks" she answered, showing him the paper. He scanned it quickly and nodded.

"Perfect. What was the officer talking about? You looked positively uncomfortable," he said, out of curiosity. From his vantage point it had seemed like the most entertaining mute movie.

"Babies? And you? I don't even know. Can we go, please? I want my surprise," she said, trying to forget the whole episode and excited about where Gilbert was taking her.

"Right! Now for the fun part. We're five minutes away," he said, smiling, ignoring Anne's comments. Suddenly he didn't want any more details and he was excited at the prospect of taking Anne to a conservation area so she could breathe and expand a little. He started the car and drove humming contently. Since the night before, both seemed much more comfortable with the other. Not like they had been when they were teens, it would be months for that to happen, but at least they felt they didn't have to watch each word.

Not five minutes later he turned and went into a deserted parking lot, and looked for the most secluded spot. Anne was looking around, beyond excited, still not believing he was taking her to a forest. He stopped the car and Anne got down immediately, turning around, marvelling at the blue May sky, the trees that looked ever so green, the sounds of the forest, the songs of the birds. She breathed deeply, as if she hadn't done it for years.

Gilbert smiled softly at her. She had reacted just as he had hoped. He did owe Fred something. He took out his phone and texted quickly before reaching for the backpack Anne had organized with water and some sandwiches.

**Gilbert Blythe (10:18): I owe you lunch. Now don't get cheeky.

"I take it you like it?" he asked her, putting on the backpack. She laughed carelessly.

"Like it? Gilbert, are you even looking around? This is the most perfectly glorious change of scenery you could ever think of!" she said.

"Well, this is the parking lot," he chuckled. "Come, the main path is this way," he led the way, Anne followed him, taking everything in. She had never been so long without a careless trek in a forest. Her escapade two weeks ago didn't count. The place was absolutely vacant. Anne followed Gilbert's lead, as he evidently had been there several times, and he took her off the main path towards smaller, less clear ones.

Unconsciously, they soon fell into the soft, quiet steps they used to take when they were trekking in Avonlea's surrounding forest, trying their best not to make noise so not to scare the animals away. They walked in silence, as they used to do, a camaraderie they hadn't felt in years back in full bloom. Anne breathed deeply, enjoying both the pure air and the feeling of him beside her, thinking how easy everything would be if they could just do this all day long.

Gilbert watched her from time to time, glad to see how more relaxed she was with each step. She looked more and more as the Anne he remembered, the one that had inspired the fairy Anne stories he had told Delly since she was born. He let her wander in front of him once they were in the secondary path he knew was the most unpopular one, as it was the one with the steepest slope. The chances of meeting anyone on a normal day were slim, today probably nonexistent. Hands in his pockets, he watched her go off the path to look at the details of a tree that was just beginning to blossom, then to pick up a small pine cone. He looked out for her, lest she would get too close to the fall they had on one side.

In the middle of the forest, he thought about how little seemed to have changed. How similar they were, both in their attitudes and in their relationship. If nothing had happened when they finished high school, would they have gotten together at some point? Would they still be, or would the relationship have run its course by now? Maybe it was better this way. To reconnect and value what they had before with the maturity experience and years brought them

"Anne? Come this way, I want to show you something," Gilbert said. She turned and followed him down the hill until they reached a cliff with one of the best views of the park that covered Grimsby, the forest they were in and lake Ontario. He heard her gasp and turned to watch her awed face next to him. He smiled softly. "Come, we can sit over there," he said, walking towards the edge.

They sat, their feet hanging in the void, and he left his backpack next to him. They stayed in silence for a while, hearing only the wind and the birds. It was one of the last cold days of spring, most of the trees already blooming or with shy green leaves. She rested her head on his shoulder and he brought her closer, an arm across her back.

"Sometimes I wish I could freeze moments like these… but then I think of all the other spectacular views I wouldn't get to get acquainted with and...," she said quietly, trailing off. He chuckled. "Thank you for bringing me here. It's perfect."

"You were withering all locked down. Had to take you out to nature," he commented looking at the lake, his hand tentatively caressing her arm. She scooted closer to him, the wind chilly and the familiar warmth of his body comforting. He rested his head on hers. "This is one of my favourite places around here. It reminds me of home, helps me calm the mind," he confided after a while.

"I can understand why. Lake Ontario doesn't have the magnificence of the sea, but it has a lovely personality nonetheless," she acquiesced. He nodded. "I used to go north of Vancouver to some parks to trekk over the weekends. You would absolutely love them, they had the most incredible contrasts. They were perfect for escaping another week of mindless teaching."

"If you don't mind me asking… what happened? I always thought you wanted to teach, when did that change?" he asked. When she didn't answer immediately he scolded himself for intruding. Maybe he should have waited before asking such personal questions.

"It's not the teaching that I don't like," she finally answered. "It's more something of a personal issue with the philosophy of teaching and different pedagogies," she explained.

"Ok…? I'm sorry, I don't know anything about the subject," he accepted.

"That's fine, I guess I can explain. You see, how regular schools are?" she asked.

"Like ours? The schedules, and grades and everything?"

"Yes. That exactly. How they look only at the performance of students in general but not anything about any student in particular," he nodded. They had hated that back then, when they were in school. Anne was at a loss in many of the classes, clashing horribly with the impersonal, methodic and abstract method Mr. Phillips used in most of the classes. A downside of living in a little town, most classes had the same teacher. "Well… It's just that. I can't agree with that. Not from a student perspective, not from a teacher's one. They keep grading us based on the performance of students. It's reductionist both for the students and everyone else that is involved. Every person down to a number. Not how they are, how they're developing, but looking only at GPAs. It isn't human, Gilbert. It's… like an assembly line and it's disheartening to look at all the lost potential of every kid there," she explained.

"But surely not all schools are like that," he said. They couldn't be. He had always thought Avonlea was an isolated case. Anne snorted.

"Well, of course not. It depends largely on the principal, if it's a public school. For a private one you get all sorts of options and philosophies and…. everything you can imagine. I'm sure you've heard something, even if it's in passing."

"Like what?"

"Montessori doesn't ring a bell? Waldorf?" she asked. He thought for a moment.

"I think Bash mentioned something for Delly…? But I'm not sure, to be honest. I wasn't paying much attention. I take it you like those?"

"Not all. They all have different takes on how kids grow and how to teach them and why. Then there are schools that combine different approaches and even parents who decide to take their kids off school because they just don't agree with something in the system. Which is equally valid."

"So where would you teach? What kind of school?" he asked.

"If I could get my pick? A Waldorf school. Ideally grade school. But that's a futile dream," she said sadly. Gilbert frowned. Why would she sound so defeated? If there was any job for a Waldorf school or whatever, he was sure she would get it. She was just that brilliant.

"Why is that?"

"You need a certification. Certifications are expensive when you are paying rent and everything else, and public school teachers aren't paid much, Gilbert. I don't have that much money to pay for that on top of regular expenses. Want a sandwich?" she asked, changing the subject completely. He nodded, absent minded, thinking quietly. He would look more into this thing. If anyone deserved anything, it was his Anne.

**Gilbert Blythe (16:30): Hey

**Bash (16:34): Hi hi hi Gilly boy! What's up? Btw, I am this close to finishing a deal to export Blythe's Orchard to the US.

**Gilbert Blythe (16:35): What? Great! I thought it would take forever!

**Bash (16:35): Not when you have me taking care of stuff, you wound me. Good prices and everything. I'll tell you the details later this week. So, everything's going good and smooth with Queen Anne? Finally talking again? Or did you get into another fight already?

**Gilbert Blythe (16:36): Good for you, oh great negotiator. Save the details for the call.

**Gilbert Blythe (16:36): It's been much better. She finally agreed to talk the other day and it's been improving every day. I took her to get her insurance a couple of days ago and took her to a trail. Remember the nice one with the view?

**Bash (16:37): Are you even allowed to do that?

**Gilbert Blythe (16:37): Loopholes, Bashy, loopholes. We had a valid excuse to be out and no one was around the trail. So it was good. She needed it, you can't quite keep Anne away from nature for that long.

Bash (16:38): True enough.

Gilbert Blythe (16:38): So we were talking… about her work and everything. I wanted to ask you because my memory is terrible, but have you ever mentioned something about Delly going to a different school? What was it?

**Bash (16:39): Either Waldorf or Montessori. Mary wants one, I want the other. We'll see who wins. Why?

**Gilbert Blythe (16:40): She was telling me about how she dreams to teach at one of those Waldorf schools but she has to get a certification or something. I didn't want to appear like a complete moron so I didn't ask for more details. What does Waldorf imply?

**Bash (16:45): Oooooh she's on my team then. I will win this now. Waldorf focuses on teaching for the heart, hands and head. Meaning they take into account the whole kid and treat them as kids. And they do so mainly through nature, arts, imagination… that's the rough idea. Anne should do that. She's born to do so, I can tell.

**Gilbert Blythe (16:46): It sounds good. Anywhere I can look for more details?

**Bash (16:46): Blythe, internet exists. Use it.

And so he did. He read and researched in his free time at the hospital, with Fred making teasing comments, but the more he read the more he was convinced Anne had to go back to study. She would be in her element. Teaching through stories? Using the imagination every day? Going to nature? How come he had never heard about this before?

He went down on an Instagram rabbit hole and ended looking at all sorts of toys and prompts and books. Would she hate him if he started getting stuff like this? He could always say it was for his place but that she could use it. That blackboard was so nice. And the building blocks. What could he do so she could study? Where did one go to get a certification on that, anyway?

Anne woke up with a start. She looked at the time: 12:20 am. She groaned. It was earlier this time. She had gone to sleep early, as she had gotten extra-early that day to sneak to the rooftop and see the sunrise and then had kept doing things around the apartment the whole day, not a minute of rest. But that didn't take away the fact that the nightmares seemed to be coming back with strength, especially after all the emotions of the past few weeks. She wasn't ready to give up and tried to go back to sleep.

She opened her eyes again, pulse racing. Ok, going to sleep again was not working tonight. She had fallen just at the same spot she had woken up before and it had gotten way worse than it usually was. She sat on the bed, breathing deeply, cold sweat in her forehead. She couldn't go back to sleep now. Not if it meant going back to… No, she better get busy. She swallowed and got up, grabbing the hoodie she's been using. She was not risking the same thing two times. Opening the door, she saw the flickering light of the tv on the back, the volume so low she almost couldn't hear it.

She walked slowly to the kitchen, trying to go silently and ignoring the shapes she saw in the shadows. How she hated her over active imagination sometimes. She didn't want Gilbert to see her like this, all sweaty and scared and pale from non-existent demons. She started filling the kettle when she heard a noise and jumped. She turned quickly, almost dropping the kettle.

"Anne, it's only me, are you ok?" he asked, concerned, walking over to her and retrieving the kettle from her hands. He put it on the stove, turned it on quickly and looked at her. Disheveled, pale, scared, wide eyes. He knew that look. Without thinking, he closed the distance between them and hugged her tightly. She was trembling. What could she be dreaming about to get into this state? "Come, we're going to the living room," he said when she felt more stable, giving her a quick kiss on the top of her head and leading her to his bed. He guided her in and she stayed there, hugging her legs, the forehead in her knees. He heard the kettle. "I'll be just a second. You're safe here, ok?" she didn't move, so he went and prepared some chamomile, putting plenty of honey and milk in it. When he came back she was in the exact same position.

"Here," he said, offering her the tea. She received it automatically, her eyes lost. "Please talk to me. Get it off your mind. What was it?" she shook her head. She did not want to talk about it. That meant living it again. "Anne, please, look at me," Gilbert insisted, starting to worry. This was not normal. He had never seen her like that after a nightmare. After one of the horrid orphanage flashbacks, yes. He tried reaching for her again but she started crying. He retrieved the cup and left it on the table before she spilled it and sat next to her, hugging her. She buried her face on his chest, crying inconsolably, Gilbert getting more worried by the minute and trying whatever he could think of to sooth her. "Anne, you're safe now. It was not real. Whatever it was, it was not real and you're safe here with me," he said soothingly, even if he was scared as shit about what was happening. Maybe he could call Fred? He was the one who knew about the mind, not him. If only it wasn't so late. Little by little, she calmed down after what seemed like hours. He looked at the clock on the wall: 1:08.

"I made a mess of your shirt," was the first thing Anne said when the sobs subsided. He was still hugging her, her face still against him. He chuckled, relieved to hear her.

"It doesn't matter. See? t-shirt gone," he said, taking it off and throwing it to the side. If only he could make her troubles disappear in the same fashion. He separated from her and gently took her face in his hands, examining it. At least the frightened look was gone, replaced by puffy eyes and a lot of redness. He cleaned the last of the tears with his thumbs. "Anne, you're safe with me. I promise. I'm not leaving and I'm not hurting you. You are safe in this apartment. Trust me," he said. She swallowed, feeling snot threatening to go down. He let go of her face and reached for a stray napkin. "Here, have this while I go for some tissues. Drink your tea. It's almost cold but you need the fluids," he instructed as he got up. She obeyed dutifully. It was still warm and sweet and comforting. He went to the bathroom and took the tissues and then stopped on the bedroom door, thinking. Looking at the bed, he grabbed the pillow from the side she obviously slept on. He chuckled sadly as he noticed it was the opposite to his.

"How are you feeling now?" he asked, passing her the box of tissues and throwing the pillow on his bed.

"Better. I don't know what happened just now," she said, trying to ignore the fact that he was, yet again, shirtless. If it was a means to distract her from her nightmare, it was effective. "I've had nightmares, but this was another thing."

"You were scaring me," he confessed.

"Sorry…"

"Nothing to be sorry about. Only let me help in whatever way I can. That's what I'm here for," he said. "Want to talk about the nightmare? It's supposed to help. Or maybe write about it if you don't feel like talking about it to me…" She looked at the pillow he had thrown. "Oh, you're sleeping here. I'm not letting you go alone to that bed after this. It's not really up to discussion," he said. She tried to think of an excuse, but she was too tired and knew she was going to stay awake the whole night on the bed. So she nodded and went under the covers. Gilbert felt confused, all his arguments ready in his mind for nothing. He hadn't expected her to agree without a fight.

"I… it's too messed up, Gilbert. I'm not sure I want to talk about it. It means reliving it."

"It means putting it out of your mind and seeing how different it is from reality," he said, lying next to her. Anne sighed. He probably was right. When she had written about her dreams they seemed to lose strength. At least for a while.

"It started at the orphanage… Or the clubhouse. I don't even know now. But there was Billy barking at me. Following and following all over some dark hallways. I went up to the cellar, but the stairs kept going and were sticky and he was coming nearer. It smelled rotten and bad and it was humid and so… grey and dark. I thought I found… I don't know, but then I was cornered and there was Billy with Regina, the older girl from St Alban's, and they were…" she trailed off. She couldn't do this. Not really. He felt Gilbert's hand sneak along her side and grab hers softly. "I can't, Gil." She hated feeling like a scared kid.

"You can, too. You're stronger than your mind, your memories and the un-realness of all this. Go on, Anne," he said, trying to sound detached but wanting to go find Billy Andrews wherever he was and make him pay for hurting Anne. And this other girl he had never met but that had been a part of Anne's nightmares since he knew her. He squeezed her hand.

"It's too… embarrassing. Mortifying"

"No one is judging here. We both know it wasn't real. This is your mind playing tricks on you because it's under so much stress," he insisted. She breathed deeply a couple of times.

"They're… Billy is barking, saying I'm trash… Regina is…" she hid her face, burying it under his arm. He let go of her hand and moved the arm, holding her. "She's licking, and… Billy… and… Can't I just leave it, Gil? Please, don't make me…" he held her firmly. He didn't want to push her, but knew it was better to speak about it. That much he knew. He felt her fresh tears directly against his skin and wanted to cry with her out of frustration of not being able to do anything.

"Billy never did anything like that to you… did he?" god, he hoped not, because he would kill him. He would track him down and kill him. Anne shook her head against him. "See? Not real. If that image comes into your mind, tell it it's not real and go with the next one. Did… Regina do this to you?" Anne's pause was all the answer he needed. "It's not going to happen again, Anne. Never again. It is in the past and no one will do to you anything you don't want. And she, getting together with Billy? Not happening. What else?"

"I… I managed to get out. And the place was Green Gables. The stable. But it got smaller and smaller and Billy was tearing it down like the clubhouse. I think he was. But it was Green Gables. And then I went looking for Matthew for help but he wasn't anywhere and I went looking for Marilla but… I found her in the basement and she was dead and Billy was getting bigger and he started to tear down the house… and… and I tried looking for you but you were nowhere and… and… and" she was sobbing again and he held her. He wasn't there. In her horrible nightmare he was just another loss.

"Shhh… Anne, I'm here now. I'm not going," he said. "I'm here to stay, Anne-girl. As long as you want me," he murmured, rocking her slightly as she cried and held on to him as if he could disappear. He held her firmly, close to him, willing to transmit to her how real his presence was. "I'm not going anywhere, Anne. Not anymore," he insisted, rocking her until the sobs subsided again and she fell asleep. He stayed awake for much longer, mulling about Anne's nightmare, about her fears, about how he had played a role in making them bigger and real.

When Anne woke up the next morning, it took her a moment to understand where she was and what was happening. She recalled the horrific nightmare, one of the worst she had had in many years. Then a whole lot of crying and Gilbert holding her the whole time. Lying on the sofa with him. More crying, until she fell asleep. Which led to… being tangled in him, apparently. She was in the center of a complicated tangle and had absolutely no idea how to get out of it without having an uncomfortable situation for both of them. God, Gilbert, what are you dreaming about?

She tried moving a leg, but that only made it worse as he turned and wrapped his arm around her waist, his face looking the hollow of her neck. Shit! This was bad. Bad bad bad! Worse, even, because the feeling of his hand on her waist and his warm breathing on her neck were too much for her to handle. Shit. And he still had no shirt. He had to sleep with a shirt if he ever was going to convince her to sleep with him again! She needed to get out of this. She stayed still, trying to concentrate on anything but Gilbert's warmth but failing miserably. All she could think of was his body against hers and his leg in between hers and his hand on her waist and...

Maybe she could get back to sleep and when she woke up next he would be gone? No, she was far too gone for that and she was pretty sure his hand was moving up. Fuck! An escape. Didn't he have an alarm?! She turned her head whatever she could and managed to watch the clock on the wall. 7:06. So his alarm wouldn't sound until at least half an hour and… gee, what was that on her leg… He had to be kidding her!

She didn't think anymore about gentleness and trying not to wake him up when she felt the erection forming against her leg. Because that was just too much. She disentangled herself as best she could and stood up quickly. Gilbert blinked confused at her absolutely flushed face running to the kitchen.

"I… er… coffee! I'll prepare coffee, yes. Want breakfast? I'll make some waffles. Or french toast. We have bread. French toast it is. You need to remember to buy the ground flaxseed…" maybe if she kept on talking everything would be covered and that was that. She was never going to sleep with Gilbert anymore, not if it came to that. Not even if it was the best night sleep she'd had in forever, including the nightmare and crying herself to sleep and everything.

He sat down, still half asleep, confused about the breakfast options, and saw his pajama pants. Oh . That explained it. He wanted not to laugh but couldn't contain a small chuckle at her reaction. Only Anne would react that way. Only Anne. He rested again, relaxing.

"French toast sounds nice," he said from the bed. "Want any help? I can make the coffee…"

"No! Stay there. I'll do this. You… sleep or whatever," was her quick, shrieky answer from the kitchen. He laughed out loud now. "Gilbert! Not fun!" he only laughed harder when he tried to stop, feeling content with life for a minute. He decided to get up, noticing everything on his body was going back to normal and walked to the kitchen, where Anne was mixing things in a bowl, her face completely flushed. She turned her back to him.

"Morning, there," he said, resting against the door frame, a cheeky smile still on his face. "Slept well?"

"Make coffee, if you're up?" she said, not looking at him, the blush coming down her neck. He laughed.

"Honestly, you can turn, Anne," he said, grabbing the can from the cupboard and measuring the dark powder. She shook her head. "I don't bite or anything, you now? Well, I have to tell you it was one of the best night's sleep I've had in years. Best way to wake up," he teased. Kind of teased. He hadn't slept that well in years. Anne snorted. "What?"

"I could tell," she said. She took out a pan and looked at him discreetly. All good, now. She was never going to mention this to anyone. Including him. Because he was enjoying himself too much and it wasn't fair. She continued melting the butter and putting the bread in the batter. "Shit! Gilbert, don't sneak around like that!" she exclaimed when suddenly he was just behind her, putting the milk to warm, her flush coming back in full force. He smiled innocently.

"Sorry?" he said, but didn't move from there, his body almost touching hers, but not quite. He could see how uncomfortable she was but it was the most endearing thing he had seen in a long time. He absolutely loved seeing her all undone only because he had woken up in the most natural state and went about his life without a shirt.

"Move! I don't want you getting burned… no shirt in front of the stove… senseless boy…" she mumbled and he finally moved, still chuckling. He was in a wonderful mood and she was not going to dampen it. Plus, it was his day off. It couldn't get better

Notes:

This was a... different chapter, we would say? Let us know what you think. We're always curious. So! Ready for three updates this week? We already know you will love so many things about them and really, we have to have some self control not to publish the whole thing ;)

Just in case: OHIP is the health insurance in Ontario. Last chapter there's a whole explanation of what Anne had to bring and all in the footnotes.

See you this Thursday!