She let herself fall, burying her face in his shoulder and holding on tight. The way she used to. Her embrace, so familiar. The way it used to be. He stroked her back soothingly. The way he used to. He pressed his lips to her mop of hair and whisper softly, "I'm here, Bess. I'm here. It's going to be all right. I'm here." In order to suppress the emotions that were rising in him, he tightly pinched his lips together. But he felt his eyes growing moist.

One of his hands around her torso and one hand on the back of her head, he pulled her to him and hugged her. Held her close. Held her close to show her that he was with her. That they were together. That everything was going to be okay. "Bess, oh my Bess," now his tears were flowing and he felt the woman he held in his arms break as well. Firmly embraced and seeking support in each other, they paused. Neither dared to break away and look toward the other.

"Conrad," she gasped, deep despair sounding in her voice, "Conrad, what have I done to deserve this?" His hand on her back stilled and he pushed her back a little so he could look into her face. "Oh, Bess. Bess you don't deserve any of this," he whispered and his words sent a shiver through her body, "Bess, you deserve the world, but not this!" His eyes looked down at her with compassion and honesty. His mind raced. Seeing her like this was killing him, reminding him far too much of the past. Of their past.

"Did you bring your pills?" How much he wished she would respond to his question with a nod of her head, but he knew she wouldn't. But just thinking about what that meant for her, scared him. She shook her head. "Bess," his voice was low and desperate as he tried to formulate his next question, the answer to which he feared he knew. Carefully, his lips breathed the words, "You don't need them, right?" It was much more of a statement than a question, and her sheepish nod of her head, sent a shiver down his spine. He knew what that meant. He had been through this with her before. Back then. His stomach turned and reproach rose in him. 'Why hadn't he noticed anything?' 'He should have known how she was, should have protected her, or at least not left her alone in the rain.' 'He should have been there for her.'

He knew her. He knew. He knew what was going on. Had always known. But he hadn't been there when she'd needed him, hadn't witnessed his Bess suffer. A renewed wave of despair rolled over him. All this, like a flashback to times long past. To times when they had woken up together in the morning, picnicked in a field somewhere after a long ride, and stood by each other in their worst moments. He swallowed. Like a flashback to dark times decades ago.

Carefully, he pressed her head back against his shoulder and whispered, "Bess, I'm so sorry!" He was afraid. Afraid of what was to come and afraid for her. He closed his eyes as the memory of that momentous summer day in 1983, overwhelmed him. Silent tears slid down his face and into her hair.

"BESS? Bess, I'm here!" Just then the news had hit like a bomb in the small village not far from Adam Farm. As soon as he heard what had happened, he had grabbed his bike and raced along the shortcut over the bumpy dirt roads. His heart beating violently from the exertion and worry. He had thrown his bike on the ground beside the porch and immediately sprinted up the few steps to the front door. Briefly the thought had occurred to him that she might be in the stable with her horse Buttercup, after all she would have her peace with him and yet not be alone, but by then he was already in the hallway of the apartment building. He would look for her in the stable, should he not find her in the house. Indecisive, he stood in front of the stairs leading up to the bedrooms and the passage to the kitchen and the further living area. Cautiously, he called into the house, hoping she would answer. "BESS? Bess, I'm here!" His voice shook and his question went unanswered.

He poked his head into the kitchen, as well as the adjoining dining room, before deciding she wasn't down here. He turned and hurried up the stairs. Standing at the top of the hallway, he stopped for a moment and listened. Maybe he would hear her. "Bess?" But he received no answer. The only thing he heard was his racing heart. Decisively, he walked toward her bedroom door. After waiting a moment after knocking, he pushed the door open and entered her room. It looked the same as it did this morning when they had woken up together, except that now a textbook lay carelessly thrown on the bed.

The thought of this morning hurt. Everything had been so normal and somehow all right. They all, the whole Adams family and he had had breakfast together and afterwards he had gone to help his father with the cows. But then the news had reached him that made a world come crashing down for him... Again he looked around his girlfriend's room before he was sure she wasn't here. He swallowed. The panic and anxiety inside him was rising. 'Where was she?" Hopefully she hadn't gotten any strange ideas.

Back outside in the hallway, he called for her again with his voice trembling with fear, worry and despair. This time he heard a sound, a soft whimper. It constricted his throat as he slowly walked toward the door at the end of the hallway. Toward the door to the bedroom, the former bedroom, of Suzanne and Benjamin Adams.

He had pushed the door open carefully after a moment's hesitation. Now he stood in the room, trying to process the situation before him. Elizabeth was lying in her parents' bed, wrapped in her mother's quilt, and had her head pressed into her mother's pillow. As if she was seeking refuge in the smell of her mother. She seemed to want to be close to them one last time, seemed to want to hold on to what was left of her parents. Her whole body trembled and quiet sobs escaped her. After a moment, he slowly walked toward the bed. After taking off his shoes and jacket, he got into bed with her and wrapped his arms around her. He held her. Held her tightly. Held her close to show her that he was with her. That they were together. She pressed herself against him. It was all he could do for her. Be there for her. Hold her in his arms and not leave her alone. It was all she had left. Him, Will, and herself.

No words needed to be exchanged. He understood her. She understood him. They both held each other and cried. Cried for her parents, for Suzanne and Benjamin Adams...

That same day, her Aunt Joan had moved to the farm to take care of the children. Will had been released from the hospital a few days later and everything seemed to be improving. Elizabeth and Will seemed to have somehow come to terms with their new living situation, seemed to be able to cope, to be sages, even though Elizabeth fell asleep crying in his arms every night. She seemed to be coping somehow. Still, he worried.

Then, after two weeks, he approached her about the fact that she had lost a significant amount of weight. But she denied it and reassured him that everything was fine and that she was doing well. After a month, she was taken to the hospital for the first time because she had collapsed. The doctors attributed her refusal to eat to the trauma of losing her parents, prescribed pills and sent her home. She had never taken the pills. She had refused to take them. Even at his pleading. She preferred to face her increasingly frequent panic attacks than to swallow even one pill. And he stood helplessly by, watching one hospital visit after an other.

Almost half a year later, cuts and scars had appeared on her abdomen, when he had gathered the courage to address her about it, he had just found her sitting in the bathroom, running the blade of her razor over her abdominal wall. That had been the day he had spoken to Joan, urging her to take Elizabeth to a clinic...

A year later, Elizabeth and Will had moved in with Joan. He thought it was the right decision. Now the two of them were no longer reminded of their parents by every stick and stone every day. The two of them could start a new life. One where not everyone knew what had happened. One in which the two could make a new start. One in which they could decide for themselves what they told to whom. But it never changed her pattern of unhealthy habits if they did not even intensify. It was also a life far away from him, which their relationship did not survive. Although in the beginning they still had contact, visits each other, imagining how they would see each other on weekends and fall into each other's arms, they quickly realized that this could not be the reality. She was not the only one to suffer from this; he also had to struggle with it for a long time. Love turned into friendship. He was family to her and she was family to him. Throughout the years, they were always in contact. They phoned each other regularly and met for coffee when they could. They were true soul mates...

And they held on to one tradition. Every year on the anniversary of their parents' deaths, the three of them would meet at their graves. Elizabeth, Will and him. Every year, before he left the two siblings for some alone time with their parents, they laid flowers together and lay in each other's arms while tears streamed down all of their cheeks. Every year. Then he would take a walk around the nearby park and wait for them in the car. Every year he would hold her in his arms and stroke her back while her shoulders twitched uncontrollably and she sobbed into his shoulder. Every single year.