Hey everyone! I'm back with another chapter! Thanks for reading and enjoy the story!

"Ellie?" Mei shook me. It wasn't the normal kind of shake from her though. Usually it was the result of her short temper when her words alone didn't wake me up, but this was gentle it was like she was reassuring herself that I could wake up.

"Yeah?" I replied. I was too sad to put up a fight right now. My voice was hoarse from the crying and my eyes stung horribly.

"Your grandfather is making breakfast. He said we can go get some flowers and visit your dad after." she pat my back. I could hear her heart breaking for me in her voice as she spoke to me.

I had read theories about empathy and sympathy. I had read about the possibility of twins sharing pain and feelings despite being two different beings. I had even read that maybe twins shared a soul, that maybe that was why they were incredibly close to each other. I often times wondered if Mei and I shared a soul or if at some point in our lives we had shared some of our souls with each other. Even though I am the one hurting, she can feel it too.

"Okay." I sat up and rolled out of bed, rifling through my backpack to pull out the dress I brought.

It was deep purple like an eggplant, flowing delicately on the breeze as it brushed against my ankles. The flowers I brought with me to his grave were beautifully ironic. Dicentra Aurora they were sometimes called. Aurora like the dawn, like day-break, like Aslan, like my father. Maybe I just have an odd habit of word association, but the thought of giving him flowers with that name made me smile. The other way in which is was beautifully ironic has to do with the flower's other name, 'Bleeding Heart.' I feel that way, I feel like someone must have transferred my father's pain onto me, like his stab wound was now mine and I was going to be the one to die instead of him.

The grave was a big shiny white stone with words carved into it.

'Aslan Jade Callenreese' it read, 'Born August 12th 2000, Died December 20th, 2018. Beloved Brother, Son, Friend, and Leader.'

I put the flowers before the grave and then I sat down, running my hand over the letters.

"Hi dad." I tried to smile, but I could feel the pain of it all crashing over me once again, "Well I mean, surprise, you were a dad!"

I felt Mei's hand on my shoulder as reached up to feel my mother's locket hanging around my neck.

"Isabella was my mother. She died the day I was born. I never really got to know much about either of you thanks to my grandmother, my mom's mom. She never talked about either of you except to curse your name." I forced a little laugh, "But grandpa, your dad, he says that was nothing new for you. He says you were far from being well liked outside of your circle of friends. I guess maybe that is one thing we have in common, aside from loving the library back home in New York. I spend a lot of time there."

I felt Mei take her hand off my shoulder and heard her footsteps as she retreated to give me some space.

"I'm sorry that I never got to meet you. I really wish you had. The few things I have heard about you, even the bad things, are all incredible. My grandmother used to censor the books I read. She said you changed my mom and she was protecting me from an influence like yours. The library was the only place I could ever read everything I wanted. I read all the books she tried to stop me from reading over and over. I tried to make up a figure in my mind of what you would be like. I knew you had to look like me because she hated my hair and eyes, but I was always lost when I was trying to imagine the rest. I wondered what kind of clothes you wore, what your cologne smelled like, how you carried yourself. Those were all things I never got to know. I imagine that you must have worn glasses like I do, that you must have been really smart and kind too."

I pulled my knees up to my chest and hugged them tight with my eyes clenched shut.

"I'm trying to imagine you now, especially with all the new things I've learned about you." I thought aloud, "You were fourteen when you knew my mom, so I imagine that you must have been even smarter than I thought. At fourteen, you loved Hemingway and Ralph Waldo Emerson. My mom gave me the name Elowen, but my grandmother didn't like that so she changed it to Emily. The nickname Ellie had already stuck though, so she said when I was a baby I couldn't say Emily and instead said Ehly. She told me a lot of lies through the years and kept me away from all sorts of ridiculous things. She was so desperate for me to be nothing like you. I think it only encouraged me to be as much like you as I could manage."

I stood and looked down at the grave stone.

"I like my name, dad. It's special and unusually, just like yours. Every time I think of you now, I imagine Aslan from Narnia, a fierce protector and a wise leader. I assume you must have been a good one. They even put it on you stone. Maybe one day I'll get to meet the people you led one day. Maybe they'll be able to tell me more stories about you. I hope someone can."

I put my hand down on top of the stone and felt the tears come to my eyes and this time I couldn't stop them.

"I hope heaven is real, dad. If it is, when I finally finish living a good life here, maybe I'll get to meet you there and then I can know you. If I could have any wish in the world come true, I would just want to meet you, even if it was just long enough for me to hug you and say thank you or I love you, I would give anything for that. Since I can't, since some magic being isn't going to come and make my wish come true, I guess I'll just say it now. In case heaven isn't real, in case I never do see you for myself. I love you, dad."