Hello everyone, it's been a rough start to the new year for me. First I fell and fractured my pinky toe and have been forced to wear a boot everywhere, then a coworker of mine was fired and I was forced to work extra shifts, and just recently my great-grandfather has passed away. He was a WWII veteran, and one of my heroes which is why I would like to dedicate this chapter to him and all of the people who lived, fought, died, and survived World War II.

Thank you all for your patience and dedication.

Chapter 12

He was chasing that bird again down that same path that suddenly stopped and ended with a dark abyss down below. He knew the bird wanted him to follow it, but how? He had no idea what laid down below in the shadows. He could die.

"Have faith," a voice whispered to him.

It sounded so soothing and familiar. He wanted to trust it, but he was afraid. Afraid of the unknown.

"Have faith," the voice repeated.

Have faith? Have faith in what?

An aching pain in his head had Desmond waking from his dream. Or dreams.

He felt so disoriented. He felt as if he's been hopping from one dream into another, into a world different from the last, with people he recognized, and people he didn't yet felt that he should. In the dreams Desmond had found himself in places he'd only imagined from his mother's books and stories, only it was more detailed than even his wildest imagination could conduct.

The smell of the ocean's salt water, the cigar smoke in an English pub, the feel of humidity dampening his skin and clothes in Amritsar, and the scorching sun in Jerusalem, and hear the crashing of waves. These were things he'd never experienced while living on the Farm, and yet he could swear he experienced them. It'd felt so real. Not just the physical aspects but the emotional ones as well. He could feel the pure love and pride in them that it brought him to tears.

The first time he opened his eyes he immediately closed them when the first thing he saw was the lit lightbulb in his room. He groaned and buried his head deeper in his pillow. Please may his father not do a drill in the middle of the night after all the crazy dreams Desmond had having tonight, he silently begged.

Wait a minute! Did his pillow just move? Desmond's eyes opened and he shot up.

And immediately regretted it.

Pain erupted in his head and he immediately clutched it before falling back on his bed.

Everything came back to Desmond: the fight with his father, his attempt at running away, the Orb of Eden, meeting his ancestors who hadn't moved on, and all the crazy escapades, including the latest one of the giant cloaked monster. That had been the scariest Desmond had ever felt in his life. But what had happened? He lifted his hand covering his eyes and was startled to see all the faces of his ancestors gathered around him, concern etched in each and every face.

"Gah!" he exclaimed. "Do you guys know how creepy that is?!"

Realizing what he meant, his ancestors all jumped away from him, abashed. Except Bayek who's lap Desmond realized had been his pillow.

"How do you feel?" Connor asked.

"Like a hammer hit me," Desmond groaned as he removed himself from Bayek and landed his head onto his own pillow.

"Dizzy? Queasy?" Ezio asked.

"No, but I'd like it if you guys turned out the light," Desmond answered, burying his head deeper into his pillow.

"No can do, Desmond. That light is the only sure thing we've got to keep the Bogeyman away from you," Jacob told him.

Wait, what? "Bogeyman?" Desmond turned his head to look at the London Assassin. Jacob looked at the boy as if he'd lost his head.

"You know: tall creature covered in dark robes, long sharp claws, acid breath, and the scariest howls you've ever heard?"

Desmond felt as if he'd been shakened and the whole experience came back to him. "Wait, so what happened? How did I get here?" he asked, sitting up and his eyes adjusting to the light.

His ancestors explained how they had chased after him and the bogeyman into the forest, and when they caught up with them, the fight they had in order to keep Desmond out of its clutches. Although they were good at hiding it, Desmond could see that the encounter had shaken all of them. These were centuries old killers both Assassin and Templar. They weren't supposed to be scared of anything. If the bogeyman could shake all of them, including Amunet, Desmond realized how very lucky he was to no longer be in its clutches.

He shuddered. "You saved me?"

His ancestors all nodded.

"Thank you." For the first time since he had come to the Other Side, Desmond fully appreciated their care and concern. Several of his ancestors smiled at him while others like Connor looked as though they would have blushed if they could.

"Well…" Haytham stuttered, obviously embarrassed. It had been centuries since the last time he had received any kind of gratitude. "Yes, well, you are our descendant after all no matter what order you're raised in."

"Be careful, Father. You're beginning to get soft on us," Connor teased.

Haytham tossed him a glare while everyone else chuckled, and Desmond smiled.

Ezio sat on the other side of Desmond and placed a hand on his shoulder. "You're famiglia, piccolo. We look after one another, even if we want to kill each other sometimes."

Desmond laughed, but he felt safe and comforted. It was all so strange and yet felt so natural.

He looked up at his bedroom light and asked how it was on. His ancestors continued telling him how it had been the light from Arno's lantern that had driven the bogeyman away. When they told him about Amunet's arrow setting it aflame, he asked, "So it's dead?"

He saw Bayek shake his head. "Dead? No, you cannot kill demons, only drive them away. The Angels would have heard about the attack by now and should be in the process of recapturing it."

"So we're stuck here until they catch it? How long is that going to take? What about de Sade?" Desmond asked. They were running out of time, and Desmond had no intention of ending up stuck here on the Other Side.

Bayek shrugged. "Who knows. I've heard it takes days to years to even centuries to capture certain demons."

"We know the bogeyman hates light," Amunet continued. "If we travel using Arno's lantern it should wade it off until we reach the Sinful Bliss. The torches around the city you've seen should keep it out of our business."

"Wait, we're all going?" Desmond asked, surprised.

From the way he had understood the plan, he was going to be left behind with some ancestors while the rest went on to visit de Sade. He could deny it, but Desmond was curious to see more of the Other Side. After all, this was where he would go when he died, and knowing his parents, as soon as he got back they would never let him leave the Farm ever. He might as well enjoy his chance of freedom.

"Unfortunately," Arno answered, obviously not happy with the situation. "It would be unwise for us to split up while that thing is still out there. Which means you have to come with us."

"Just… uh…" Ezio sounded embarrassed. "Don't stare at anything."

"And if you hear strange sounds don't ask what they are," Edward quickly added, equally as embarrassed.

"Ooooookay," Desmond promised, a little confused. He remembered them telling him de Sade's brothel was like a hangout place. What was wrong with that?

They still had a few hours before they could meet de Sade, and Desmond was advised to try and get some more rest, but he was unable to with his bedroom light still on. Instead his mind wandered to all that had happened in these last two days. Had it just been last night when he had gotten into that fight with his father? It felt like it had been years. He thought about what he'd seen in his father's study a few hours ago. Did his dad truly miss him or did he just miss having a soldier to train? Desmond thought about the training session he had with Jacob and Edward. It reminded him of sparring sessions he'd have with his dad when he was younger before he turned into a demanding asshole. They were still as serious or at least serious to a ten-year-old. His father would encourage and push him, always telling him that though he wasn't strong enough yet to take down a fully grown man he could be just as fast and hit his enemy in the right spots to take them down. It used to be fun for Desmond, figuring out what his father's weak spots were and never holding back. He remembered the pride in his father's voice when Desmond had gotten himself out of a difficult headlock, or what he'd thought was a difficult headlock. He'd pulled a move his mother had told him about, tripping his father with his legs and biting his side until he let go. It was a dishonorable move, but his father had told him come life or death, you did what you had to survive.

What happened between them?

Desmond thought about it and realized the changes began to happen when Daniel Cross came to the Farm. He'd never seen anyone openly challenge his father in his ideals, philosophies, and traditions. It had given Desmond questions as well. Daniel Cross spoke about the places he had been to and the adventures he had. He reminded Desmond of the heroes in his mother's books, and the young boy was dazzled to learn more about the world outside the Farm and his mother's books. He was sad when Daniel left them, and it made him wonder why his dad wasn't more like Daniel. He'd even asked his dad that and that's when it all started.

Desmond's hand went to the spot on his face where he'd struck him. It no longer hurt physically, but the mental hurt was still there. He'd never forget, maybe not ever forgive his father even if he did try to apologize. He thought about Edward and Jacob, and what they had told him of their own parents while they were sparring.

Edward had disappointed his parents with his drinking, his refusal to continue the family tradition of running their sheep farm, and making enemies that burned down that farm. He'd left them and his wife to go sailing with pirates, and when he came his father was dead and his mother disowned him. His parents were never able to complete their unfinished business and move on until Edward's death when they finally all reconciled properly. Desmond had been able to see the pain in Edward's eyes as he told him that.

Jacob had been more reluctant to talk about his father. He had left him and Evie shortly after their birth and the death of their mother in the care of their grandmother until they were six years old when he returned and began to raise them on his own. Growing up, Jacob had felt that nothing he did ever pleased his father compared to Evie. He wasn't sneaky enough or smart enough, too headstrong and too reckless. Jacob never realized that all their issues were because they were the same until he became a father himself years after his father's passing. Unlike Edward, by the time Jacob had died and came to the Other Side, most of his family had already moved on to the Afterlife.

Edward and Jacob had both told Desmond that though his father was a man with flaws, was tough on him, and hard to understand, he was a good man and he loves him. Desmond wasn't sure. He remembered before he had lost consciousness with the bogeyman, hearing his father's voice. Had it been real? He wanted to ask his ancestors, but was afraid to ask. He did however pluck up the courage to ask about his dreams.

"Who are Mailk, Darim, Sef, Flavia, Io:nhiote, Catherine, Jennifer, Rose, Juliette, Elena, Henry, Maria, Cecily, Serafina, and Khemu?"

His question took each and every one of his ancestors by surprise. They all looked at him agape and speechless as he spoke of names not said out loud for a long time.

"Where-" Shay swallowed before speaking again. "Where did you hear those names?"

So Desmond told them about the dreams he had before he had woken up. From the people to the places to the events, down to the detail each and every one of them. He watched their faces morph from surprise to painful to sadness to anger and then finally confusion and concern. Nobody could come up with a plausible explanation as to how Desmond had seen their dearest and precious memories of their loved ones. There was no logic and it made another thing to worry about. Eventually they all settled down and began to tell Desmond stories of his family legacy as they waited for the time to seek de Sade out to approach.

000{{*}}000

Paris, August 15, 1944

There was a tension in the air as Samuel Miles and his Assassin brothers ran across the Parisian rooftops at night. German patrols were everywhere ever since word got out on the Battle of Normandy.

Sam and his American brothers had barely survived the bloody battle, but had pushed on, thinning out the Germans in their way for the Allies. Sam had commandeered a jeep to carry them to Paris in order to help their trek. Their mission was too important to waste time, and they had to sneak themselves behind enemy lines and into Paris. Now, in the two months the American Assassins had gotten in contact with their French brothers and sisters to discover that the Germans were retreating, but many still remained. Marcel Flouret had informed them that the German commander of France, General Dietrich von Choltitz had captured thousands of members of the French Resistance. Among those captured was an important Assassin and a highly valued prisoner for the Templars.

Sam slowed his pace and held his fist up, signaling his men to slow down as he kneeled on the edge of the building across from Nazi Gestapo. His French brothers had told Sam horror stories about that place. People went in, but were never seen again.

Using his Eagle Vision, Sam tried to find a way in, but there was too much red to slip past without being caught. Sam inwardly cursed.

Dammit.

The French Assassins had hammered into Sam's skull how important it was for him to rescue their comrade, Jeanne Eder. He had been given a summary of her background. Her mother had been Lyra Quinn, an American Assassin who had come during the Great War to assist and had stayed to help rebuild Europe. She married a former Austrian soldier Georg Eder who was studying to become a scientist and the two of them had a daughter Jeanne while living in Paris. They had been living in a simple apartment until 1928 when Templars stormed their home, killed Lyra, and taken Dr. Eder, their six-year-old narrowly hiding and avoiding capture by a secret compartment barely big enough to hide her next to the fireplace. The French Assassins found her later that day after hiding for hours and had taken her into their care. Although she had American and Austrian blood, Jeanne had a French upbringing and was a French citizen. When the Germans invaded, Jeanne had helped the Resistance in any way she could from spying to sabotaging to assassinating SS officers along with her mentor Jean Moulin. Unfortunately the Assassins had been forced to lay low due to their lowering numbers until Jeanne had discovered her mentor's torturous death and had set off to avenge him, but was captured. For months the Assassins had been unable to confirm that she was still in Paris or that she was even alive until the Normandy invasion. They received word that the Germans were preparing to send out their prisoners to prison camps in Germany, except Jeanne. The Templars had been forcing Dr. Eder into studying the Apple of Eden Hitler had been using to control the German people and make weapons for them. Eder had been uncooperative and had made two suicide attempts if the reports were to be believed. The Templars were hoping that the capture of his daughter would force Eder into being more cooperative in their plans.

That's why this mission was so important. Sam hoped that by rescuing Jeanne Eder they could follow the Templar trail and secure the Apple. Without it Hitler's control would crumble and they could end this war.

Two gold figurines entered Sam's vision. One was a feminine figure with hands tied behind her back and a sack over her head being led into a black car. The other figurine was an SS officer Klaus Barbie, otherwise known as the "Butcher of Lyon" Sam recognized from photos and a high ranking Templar.

Shit. It seems like they were leaving Paris tonight.

Sam looked to his friend, Nathan Banks and nodded. His friend sounded a birdlike whistle, their signal to the French Assassins to enact their backup plan. The Templars would have to go down a series of streets in order to avoid the Resistance and get out of Paris. The Assassins had anticipated their route and were not planning on letting the Templars escape with their fellow Assassin. Sam's men would follow the Templars and provide support to the others.

Along with the car, the Templars' escort consisted of two trucks filled with Nazi soldiers and four motorcyclists. Sam had only Nathan and two other men. The French Brotherhood had been able to spare just ten of their Assassins. Their numbers were three to one in the Templars' favor, but Sam remembered stories his father use to tell him and his siblings of Assassins who had faced bigger odds and triumphed. If they timed and planned this carefully they could kill the Templars and rescue their fellow Assassin without any casualties on their end.

Barbie's escort headed off and Sam's group struggled to keep up on the rooftops, but the French had seen to it they're American friends were familiar with the ins and outs of Paris to know their way well enough. The Assassins had made sure to block off roads all so that the Templars would have no choice but to fall into their trap.

They caught up to the fleeing Templars just in time to hear the loud pop and screeching of tires being popped by the nails left out on the street and the sound of gunfire. Sam hoped that the civilians in this neighborhood stayed inside and away from their windows.

The French Assassins fired machine guns from hidden alleyways and other hiding spots in the street. In order to give them a helping hand, Sam jumped from the rooftop to the balcony below him before jumping the remaining thirty feet down. He had aimed his landing on a Nazi soldier that had left the rear truck, and met his target, plunging his blade into his neck. A perfect assassination. His comrades quickly noticed Sam and his friends join in the fight and turned to them. Sam quickly stabbed the soldier closest to him by a few feet and used his body to shield himself as he tugged his pistol out and fired, killing three more while his friends took out the rest from the truck.

Sam turned to look at the other Assassins to find they had just as quickly taken out the rest of the soldiers. The car containing Barbie and the captured Assassin was open and Barbie was running out into the night.

Sam made to chase after him when a harsh voice called after him. "Leave the scum!"

He turned in surprise to see a blonde headed woman leaning on the car. Half of her face was bloody and swollen from the black eye, broken nose, and busted lip. Her wrists were bloody from her bonds that she had freed herself from with the knife in her hands, but there was a fierce determination about her despite the obvious abuse she had been through.

"In the car Barbie was boasting that they're shipping three thousand resistance fighters out to prison camps tonight. We need to get to the railroad station now before it's too late!" she told him.

"We left one of the cars out on the next street. Take it!" one of the French Assassins who's name Sam couldn't remember urged.

"Go Sam. We'll help clear the bodies and go after Barbie!" Nathan told Sam.

There was no time to argue.

Sam chased after the French born half-American and half-Austrian woman down to the next street to one of the cars and because of her injuries, Sam was forced to drive. However, before they took off in the dim street lights, Sam was able to get a proper look at Jeanne Eder. The parts of her face not bruised and swollen was flawless pale skin, her blonde hair looked as if it could be curly and soft. There wasn't enough light to see the color of her good eye, but Sam was willing to bet that it was a stormy color. Finally, he noticed around her neck shining in the dim light was a medallion with the symbol of the Tree of Life.

As they hurried down the streets of Paris towards the railroad, neither Sam nor Jeanne realized how much this night would affect their lives forever.

000{{*}}000

Dresden, January 20, 1945

Bloody Hell! Bloody Hell! Shit! Shit! Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! Fucking Hell!

Those words were running through Nora Crowder's mind as she ran through the forests outside of Dresden Germany with Nazi troops on her tail. It was freezing cold and the snow had to be about two feet deep at least, making it difficult to run in.

Gunfire exploded in trees next to her, narrowly missing her and her companion.

How the hell did it end up like this?

After the liberation of Paris, Nora and her company had fought their way through the Battle of the Bulge and into Germany. They'd been traveling for weeks on foot or by jeep, hiding in abandoned barns, almost catching hyperthermia from the bitter cold. For their mission the Council had advised Nora to take her company to a safehouse in Dresden where they would meet up with another group of Assassins who would assist them. But when Nora's company made it to the warehouse they didn't find their Assassin allies but Templars dressed as the SS. Three of her companions had been killed in the firefight, leaving Nora no choice but to flee into the forest with her remaining companion, a lad barely even nineteen.

There was no where they could hide in the white snow, no place to disappear.

As Nora and the lad made a turn, the lad slipped and fell down a steep hill.

"Crane!"

A bullet hit a tree just above her head, and Nora had no choice but to duck and therefore lost her balance and tumbled down that same hill. She tasted snow and dirt as she tumbled through old weeds and branches. Her face stung as it hit a patch of briars before landing hard on her left side by a log.

Pain shot through her. Her left arm felt like she had snapped it out of place. Her hidden blade arm. Fuck, Henry and Jake were not going to let her heat the end of- Tears stung her eyes as she remembered that neither one of her brothers was around anymore to scold her for her recklessness.

Nevertheless, she pushed through the pain and looked desperately for her remaining companion.

"Crane! Crane! Andy!"

He couldn't be dead. He just couldn't be. Nora couldn't bear it if she lost another one on her watch. Anderson "Andy" Crane had come from America with his older brothers to help in the war. When he'd heard about Nora's mission, Andy had volunteered to join her, and she had promised his family that she would look after him and he would make it back to them alive. It wasn't just because of her promise, Nora knew that if Andy was dead, that meant she was on her own and this really would be a suicide mission like her parents and the council had warned her.

"Nora," a voice whispered from the other side of the log.

Relief filled Nora when the dark head of Andy Crane popped out and began to help drag her over the log. Bullets began to hit just as Nora cleared it and they ducked.

"How much ammo do you have left?" Nora asked as she tugged her handgun out of its holster, her left arm lying uselessly by her side.

Crane took out the machine gun he had swiped off a German soldier. "Not enough to take them all out."

Nora had three grenades in her satchel, but was unsure if she'd be able to throw them far enough. "What about the radio?"

That led to a whole slew of cursing when it was discovered smashed from the fall. Low ammo, lame arm, and no communication. They were in it tight.

Nora's thoughts went back to her brothers. Henry who was shot down in '41. Jake who had been executed in Berlin by Templars for his part in Operation Valkyrie. Both men who had taught her how to stand up and be her own person, and her vow to never let them down.

She shared a look with Crane and they nodded. If this was to be their end, then they would take as many as these Templar bastards with them. She prayed that her parents would forgive her for leaving them.

She turned and fired her gun.

Crane blasted away with his machine gun, taking out several Templar soldiers.

Their guns empty, Nora hurried to refill her's with her one good arm when they heard a different set of guns firing. She turned to look but couldn't see the third party that had joined the fight. She switched to her Eagle Vision, and saw faint glimmers of green coming from the top of the hill and firing at the red images.

"Stay down!" Nora warned Crane. After what seemed like hours but was probably minutes, the gunfire stopped. Nora hesitantly looked over their hiding place and saw maybe around less than a dozen men searching the bodies.

"Remember: weapons only!" a deep voice ordered.

Nora looked to see two men around the same age, probably late twenties, and brothers judging from the resemblance, watch as their men searched their fallen enemy. The older one looked bigger and gruffer compared to his younger brother, but the younger made Nora think of Henry who was good at analyzing his surroundings before charging into a fight, and knew that this brother was most likely the leader of this pack. Her vision showed the brothers to be gold. Were they her allies?

One of the men spotted her and Crane and pointed his gun at them. Out of instinct, Nora pulled out her own gun and pointed it at him. She was a Crowder and a Frye, an Assassin. Ally or not, she got sick and tired of people pointing their guns at her.

"Woah, woah, woah, easy, easy!" Crane tried to diffuse the tension.

The younger brother barked at the men in Polish and he lowered his weapon.

Nora was hesitant to lower her's as the younger brother slowly approached her down the snow covered hill. Now that he was closer Nora could see his features more clearly. He was surprisingly handsome with skin that looked like it could tan easily in the sun, tufts of dark brown hair peeking from his winter cap, strong facial features, and thin lips. However, the feature that stood out to Nora was his eyes. Golden eyes that reminded her of an eagle, sharp and focused. They seemed like they could pierce into Nora's soul and learn all her secrets. But there was also pain in those eyes. A pain Nora recognized as similar to her own, that told he too had lost people he loved in this war, and that's when she noticed the gold star of David around his neck peeking from under his jacket.

The man raised an eyebrow at the gun in Nora's hand. "You Allies have a funny way in saying thank you."

Embarrassment hit her as he spoke to her in Polish accented English. She put her gun back in its holster. "Thank you, but you can't be too careful in these troubling times can you?"

Gold eyes danced. "Indeed. Are you Nora Crowder?"

"Are you my contact?" Nora shot back.

The familiar snick of a hidden blade answered her as she was finally able to see it hidden in his winter coat.

"Gideon Bransky. We were forced to leave our hometown of Warsaw right before the Russians moved in so we could help you in your mission. Whatever that is."

These men were all Polish Jews. The Assassins had discovered that the Templars had set out to purge Europe of the Jews and many other kinds of people. For what reason, the Assassins didn't know, but set out to help the survivors and refugees. These men had lost everything and suffered under the Templars hiding behind the Nazi powers. They should know what Nora was leading them into.

"My mission is to finish what my brother and many Assassins before him had started: to kill Adolf Hitler and this wretched war."

000{{*}}000

Desmond woke to someone shaking him awake.

"Come on, Desmond, it's time to go," Altair whispered.

Desmond must have fallen asleep in the middle of his ancestors' stories. He shook the cobwebs of sleepiness off, and followed his ancestors out of his room and back to the Other Side, Arno's lantern leading them through the darkness.

000{{*}}000

In honor of my great-grandfather John H. Anderson, November 8, 1923-January 14, 2021. I wrote the WWII flashbacks in memory of him and his generation who lived in that time. My grandfather had thirteen siblings and when the war broke out, the military asked his father to choose which of his sons would serve. He was unable to do so, so my grandfather and his brothers chose for him. He and two brothers enlisted, but my grandfather was the only one who went overseas, leaving his wife and their infant daughter. He drove a jeep and was there at the Battle of Normandy. He faced many life and death situations and learned how to survive explosions but laying on the ground and keeping an arm under your stomach so the air could fling you away instead of crushing you, and had to run from German tanks. He even met General Patton himself once and admired the man greatly. He earned a bronze star for a mission when he was setting up communication lines his group ran into a German patrol. The men guarding him fired at them and they survived. He buried his star with his son who died in a tractor accident when he was nine and his brother got him another a few years ago during a family reunion. My Grandpa was a man who made his fair share of mistakes, but he was a good man who loved his family and served his country bravely. R.I.P. Grandpa. I love you and I'll miss you.

In August 15, 1944 General Dietrich von Choltitz ordered three thousand members of the Resistance to be sent out in trains, 170 per cattle car to concentration camps in Germany. Only 27 of them returned. Klaus Barbie, otherwise known as the "Butcher of Lyon" was the head of one of the Gestapos where he tortured adult and child prisoners. He arrested several high-ranking officials of the French Resistance, his most prominent being Jean Moulin. In April 1944, he ordered 44 Jewish children from an orphanage to be sent to Auschwitz. It is estimated that he was responsible for the deaths of 14,000 people. He wasn't convicted until 1983 when he was no longer under the protection of the Bolivian government and was extradited to France for crimes against humanity. He died from cancer in prison, 1991.

Operation Valkyrie, in case no one has watched "Valkyrie" was an emergency plan German officers had conducted to assassinate Hitler and free the German soldiers under his control. The plan was after killing Hitler, officers General Friedrich Olbricht, Major General Henning von Tresckow, and Colonel Claus von Stauffenberg would take control of the German cities, disarm the SS, and arrest the Nazi leadership. Unfortunately, Hitler survived the attempt and most of the leaders were executed.

I apologize for any inaccuracies. I tried to stay as close as possible. This year has been sucky for me already: losing my grandfather, falling and fracturing my foot, and a coworker of mine whom I liked was fired. Thank you all so much for your encouragement and hope you all stay safe this year.