Five years later
I found my self-sitting at the polished wood of the table signing documents for an inheritance I did not expect wondering if I should ever have returned to New York. The city was so different from the last time I saw it, yet the same. Still bustling with life everything and every one still in a hurry.
"Why the hell did I do this again?" I asked Morai as she gave me a comforting smile.
"Because you had to." She whispers and I returned to my signing thinking about the events that have lead me here. Lead me back to where I started and to all I tried to forget.
The moonlight filled the little room, the musty smell of an old building permeated the air, a smell I had mercifully almost forgotten. Lips brushed mine, traveling to my neck in a way that was both uncontrolled and well practiced. A warm body lay next to me on the lumpy hard mattress, the sounds of snores came from beyond the closed door. Blue eyes burned in the soft light as his arms pulled me tightly possessively to him. I fit as I was made to be there warm curves to hard muscle. Lips found mine drowning me in it's power and I felt the tears that flowed down my cheeks. Tears for the emotions I had forgotten, tears for the man I had left, tears because he was mine once again.
I woke gasping for air the dream still around me as I reached for the man who was not there. I curled in my bed glancing around at the modern style the interior decorator had decorated my apartment in. Gone were the soft warm woods that glowed, gone were the draped fabrics. When I had moved from my old apartment as soon as I could afford it I had sold all my furniture. I gave explicit instructions for the decoration of this apartment to be modern; I wanted nothing that even remotely spoke of the past. The decorator had smiled, though her eyes told me she thought it was an odd request. Grabbing my robe I wrapped it around me and stood going into the living room nearly tripping over the box that still sat unopened.
Morai had sent it to me, I was sure of what was inside, she had kept me from burning all of my old costumes by shear force of will. I had given up my obsession with the past focusing all my thoughts purely on the now and the future. I had put off opening the box as I did not want to drag up old memories, but since they had come up anyway I supposed there was no harm in opening it. I grabbed a knife from the kitchen and sat cross-legged on the carpet in front of it.
I set aside the envelope containing a letter and looked to the mound of fabric that was indeed my old costumes. Reds, golds, greens, purples, and creams, I touched the skirt of me court dress reverently as the brilliant green-blue damask lay still beautiful. Sighing I turned from the old memories to the letter, opening it I found a letter and a plane ticket.
"Dear Briar,
It's been years since you've written and I've written you. I found these things in my house the other day surprisingly enough on the same day I received the invitation to your wedding. Congrat's doll, I don't know what else to say. Having met the man I know he is not the man for you. There is no passion, no fire, then again it seems to have left you these days. Congrats as well on your promotion at the firm. Top stockbroker again were you? Who would have thought? Briar, ever creative sometimes crazy Briar would be have a degree in business and finance.
Things changed so much during your disappearance and I never truly had the courage to ask you about all of it. I know you did not wish to really talk of it. However I guess I should get to the point of this, I found him Briar. I did not entirely believe your story and for years I've been checking it out. I found one Michael Ryan Conlon born on December 24, 1885 - died July 25, 1921. I want you to fly to New York with me. If for some reason you feel you must marry that man give me one week of fun with you please. Call me when you've decided.
All my love,
Morai."
I shook my head, there was no way I was going to New York, absolutely no way. Laying on the table next to me was another small box addressed from a lawyer's office in New York. The hair on the back of my neck began to rise as I opened it. Inside was a book, a small box and a letter. I opened the letter never looking at the book.
"Dear Ms. Fitzgerald,
We send you this as it has come to our attention that you are the sole beneficiary to one Michael Ryan Conlon."
"Holy shit." I cried, this was too much of a coincidence; a shiver of fear ran through me as I forced myself to read on.
"enclosed is a copy of his will, it has been held in trust for you by members of the family, the last of whom died only days ago. Please come to our New York office to sign documents that must be signed in order to release the rest of the will. Enclose as per the will is a locked jewelry box and a book. I look forward to speaking with you.
Sincerely,
Mr. Peter M. Alexander."
My hands shook as I took the slender box and looked at it, it was a music box, the key tied to the lock on it tied to the music key. I untied it looking at the cover, admiring the beautiful roses that had been carved into the gleaming mahogany wood. I took a deep breath as I unlocked the box, opening the lid causing strains of the Blue Danube waltz filled the air. A gold bracelet winked at me from against the velvet lining of the box.
Briar Rose Fitzgerald born, April 25, 1983 it read, tears filled my eyes. If I had wanted a sign as to whether or not to go to New York, I would have just gotten one. Slowly I took the cloth-covered notebook, the notebook that had brought my entire world crashing down to bed and lay down. I let the music box play until it had stopped from where it had been wound the silence more deafening for it's end. I clutched the book to me as tears streamed down my face and I sobbed myself to sleep.
That was how I found myself in New York City listening to a lawyer drone on about the inheritance I had received. One building and a quarter of his fortune had been left to me along with my bracelet and my book. The building was well kept I realized as the cab pulls along side the street in front of it.
Newsboy Lodging House was freshly painted in yellow on the green sign, it looks better than it ever did in the days I had stayed there. Morai follows me her eyes wide as we stepped from the cab. Luckily she paid the cabby for I was drawn to the front door, the sounds of boys laughter fill the air as I open the door.
"Mimic, ya get up here this instant and give me my hat." I heard Racetrack's voice float down the stairs with memories of the past still vivid in my mind.
"Welcome the the Newsy museum." I heard a voice say, turning I look to find a young woman looking back at me.
"Hello." I said absently my mind turning back to the rooms in front of me that looked nicer than I remember them.
"You are the new owner right?" she asked I looked at her blankly " The lawyers said you would be coming."
"Oh yes," I reply.
"Feel free to look around." She said then, " Call me if you would like to know anything."
I smiled grateful she had taken the hint that I did not want a guided tour. Morai followed me up the stairs to and into the bunkroom, I stopped at the closed door almost expecting to open it and find boys sprawled about it. Taking a fortifying breath I opened it to find bunks neatly in a row, beds neatly made, as they never had been, even clothes neatly hang neatly or folded on the beds. I smiled they would have torn apart this neat haven in minutes. Slowly I made my way to the small room that had been mine opening the door I found it had indeed been kept as a room. Some of my clothes sat on the shelves, my rose colored skirt now faded with age, my cream blouse almost yellow, my boots sitting as next to the bed scuffed and aged, even my corset sat upon the top shelf a spare camisole and pantaloons under it.
I took the faded leather book from my bag; inside lay letters I had not read yet, letters I had only just received from the lawyers. Morai sat next to me on the bed, my bed, as I cleared my throat and began reading.
"My Dearest Cameo,
It has been years since you left, that night that you glowed like the sun and disappeared from the Brooklyn Bridge. The night you left my brother. He offered to include a letter from all of us and I was the first to write mine. He has this crazy idea that you will receive this and even if you don't I suppose it will be good to write. I want you to know that we all loved you. Those that you allowed close, but none so much as my brother, I watched your romance, I watched as it came together, fell apart and came together again. As you read this you may feel anger toward the man that you loved so deeply and I do not blame you for it. Neither does he, he blames himself that things happened the way they did and because of that has devoted his life to being something, someone. A person to be remembered that he might reach across time and tell you what he could not in life. I do not know how you got here or even if his stories are true, but if it is please, please come back to him. I wish you the best what ever you choose, but know that we love you and we miss you.
Warmest Regards,
Gabriel Anne O' Leary"
"She married him." I whispered. " Glimmer married Skittery."
"Good for her I think." Morai whispered back. Slowly I went through each of them, Mush, Blink, Mimic, Race, even one from Jack. Finally I reached the last one, the letter I had saved until the end. The bold writing seemed to leap off the page at me and with a shaking voice I read it.
" Briar,
That is what I called you, so often instead of Cameo as everyone else did. It was as if I called you that I could make you mine. You were so full of spirit, so wild, so different, I suppose that is what made me fall in love with you. Odd if I had uttered those words when you asked I have a feeling I would not to be writing this letter today. You asked if I loved you and I did, though I find it hard to write even in a letter. I could not say it then, I could not let you know what I felt, I was too afraid you would leave. Instead I did not and you did leave. I do not know how to let you know, I do not know what I can do so I have done all I can think of to reach across time and tell you what I could not while you were at my side.
I went to see the Lodging House today. Reporters were there when I got there, full of questions. They think I'm an eccentric man, too sentimental as I have saved it and restored it before they could tear it down. A historical landmark I told them when I put the money up to pay for it. They didn't challenge me, not me the most powerful lawyer in New York. They wouldn't dare after I threatened to take it to court. They wonder why I saved it; there are a few who know.
I found myself with a dilapidated old building; I did not want to restore it by myself if I could help it. So I turned to those that could help, that had memories in this old building as well. Jack Sullivan soon to be mayor bestowed money upon my little project. David now manager of his campaign had urged him to it; it would look good to the public. My sister stepped from beyond her silver screen and offered money I took. Mush and Blink better known now as Alex and Jonathan brought a check all the way to New York from their director's chairs in California.
Finally when I had enough I watched the worker's telling them what should go where and how things had been. There was one room they were not allowed to touch, one room I restored myself, one room that was why this whole project had come about. It had been your room, but you were no longer here, I couldn't smell your scent in the dusty sheets as I could all those years ago. That sweet smell of roses and you, it haunts me from time to time. Everything was as I remembered it though your one skirt and shirt were moth eaten and your corset starting to fall apart. A faded hat halfway poked from under a water-ruined pillow. A hat that had been your protection while selling on the streets, not that you needed that protection you had me or one of the other men previously mentioned. I had everything remade just as it had been in the colors it had been in. To be replaced if they were ever damaged.
I wanted you to come here if you did and remember life as it had been, hopefully remembering all the good times instead of the bad.
That was the true reason behind the restoration. It was a way to remember my past, a way to remember you, a way to reach across time and tell you what I never could as the fearless leader of the Brooklyn Newsies. That I loved you, I loved you with a passion that has never dimmed. A passion that has forced me to become more than what I was in the hopes that I would be remembered in history, that you would know me in your time.
There are those who think I'm crazy with my support of the research behind time travel. Those that shake their heads as I stop to talk to the gypsies in the park asking questions that make them flick the sign against the evil eye. They have all been dead ends. My only recourse now is in the building I have created a museum of. I pray that it will survive the years. I have money hidden away, money that will serve me well should some of the events you foretold come to pass, you have yet to be wrong.
I remember the night she left, the night it was pouring rain, the night we thought she was crazy. I know it was Sarah, I want you to know it. She was jealous of your strength and ability to make an entire room look to you just by entering it. You was humble yet cocky, you was sweet yet you could leave a bitter taste in my mouth when you stood up to me. You were fiery, never could you be called meek, you was strong and brave, you were a pain in my ass half of the time.
You came to us nearly eighteen years ago, still a child, yet so much a woman. So different than all the other women, maybe that is what originally attracted me to you. You were different, in your thoughts, your actions, in some ways you acted like a man, yet I have never seen anyone more feminine. Nor have I ever seen anyone more in need of us.
Your name was Briar Rose, you had been named for Sleeping Beauty and that was ironic. When you came to us she was sleeping, all of your emotions and reactions in hibernation still reeling from your mother's death, still in pain from your father's defection. Slowly I watched you waken, your emotions come to the surface, a passion within you that could rival Jack's when she wanted.
I betrayed you, I did not believe in you. I thought you were crazy; I wanted to push you away because you were getting under my skin as no woman ever did and ever will.
I find I am babbling as I write this, babbling, as I never have. Wouldn't they love to hear how the most successful lawyer in New York, who is so praised for his eloquence, is stumbling on these words? I suppose this is my last effort to reach you, to tell you what I never did.
Briar, if you find this I loved you with all my heart. I did not know how much until you left. I need you; I would give everything for one moment again with you. I love you Briar.
Ever Yours,
Michael
Tears streamed down my face as Morai finished it for I could not. The sunlight filtered in from the bunkroom in the fading light I let Morai hold me.
"You came." The voice startled Morai and I both of us jumping in the air like a startled cats. I whirled to see a woman I had not seen in five years since I had hurled the amulet and curses at her head. "I warned you that you would wish to see me again."
"Do you always have to frighten me?" I snapped standing and facing her.
"It is your choice child, it has always been your choice." She responded evasively. I rolled my eyes ever the one for riddles I thought.
"Will he be there?" I asked knowing I would not want the answer.
"You are mistaken child if you think you were sent back to find your true love." She told me. " You were sent back because despite your difficulty in adjusting you were meant to be there. It is your place and your time, we cannot force the choice upon you, you must make it. If he is there he is, if he is not he is not. I must warn you though it will be your last time traveling. I can not allow you to come back."
In her hands I saw the amulet, the jewel in its pendant glowing from within beckoning me. Quietly I held me hands out accepting what she wanted to give. I had not returned home, I had returned to exile, I would now be going home.
Sorry guys I don't have time for separate SO's today, I'll try to get them in later! I love you all thank you so much for taking the time to review!
I found my self-sitting at the polished wood of the table signing documents for an inheritance I did not expect wondering if I should ever have returned to New York. The city was so different from the last time I saw it, yet the same. Still bustling with life everything and every one still in a hurry.
"Why the hell did I do this again?" I asked Morai as she gave me a comforting smile.
"Because you had to." She whispers and I returned to my signing thinking about the events that have lead me here. Lead me back to where I started and to all I tried to forget.
The moonlight filled the little room, the musty smell of an old building permeated the air, a smell I had mercifully almost forgotten. Lips brushed mine, traveling to my neck in a way that was both uncontrolled and well practiced. A warm body lay next to me on the lumpy hard mattress, the sounds of snores came from beyond the closed door. Blue eyes burned in the soft light as his arms pulled me tightly possessively to him. I fit as I was made to be there warm curves to hard muscle. Lips found mine drowning me in it's power and I felt the tears that flowed down my cheeks. Tears for the emotions I had forgotten, tears for the man I had left, tears because he was mine once again.
I woke gasping for air the dream still around me as I reached for the man who was not there. I curled in my bed glancing around at the modern style the interior decorator had decorated my apartment in. Gone were the soft warm woods that glowed, gone were the draped fabrics. When I had moved from my old apartment as soon as I could afford it I had sold all my furniture. I gave explicit instructions for the decoration of this apartment to be modern; I wanted nothing that even remotely spoke of the past. The decorator had smiled, though her eyes told me she thought it was an odd request. Grabbing my robe I wrapped it around me and stood going into the living room nearly tripping over the box that still sat unopened.
Morai had sent it to me, I was sure of what was inside, she had kept me from burning all of my old costumes by shear force of will. I had given up my obsession with the past focusing all my thoughts purely on the now and the future. I had put off opening the box as I did not want to drag up old memories, but since they had come up anyway I supposed there was no harm in opening it. I grabbed a knife from the kitchen and sat cross-legged on the carpet in front of it.
I set aside the envelope containing a letter and looked to the mound of fabric that was indeed my old costumes. Reds, golds, greens, purples, and creams, I touched the skirt of me court dress reverently as the brilliant green-blue damask lay still beautiful. Sighing I turned from the old memories to the letter, opening it I found a letter and a plane ticket.
"Dear Briar,
It's been years since you've written and I've written you. I found these things in my house the other day surprisingly enough on the same day I received the invitation to your wedding. Congrat's doll, I don't know what else to say. Having met the man I know he is not the man for you. There is no passion, no fire, then again it seems to have left you these days. Congrats as well on your promotion at the firm. Top stockbroker again were you? Who would have thought? Briar, ever creative sometimes crazy Briar would be have a degree in business and finance.
Things changed so much during your disappearance and I never truly had the courage to ask you about all of it. I know you did not wish to really talk of it. However I guess I should get to the point of this, I found him Briar. I did not entirely believe your story and for years I've been checking it out. I found one Michael Ryan Conlon born on December 24, 1885 - died July 25, 1921. I want you to fly to New York with me. If for some reason you feel you must marry that man give me one week of fun with you please. Call me when you've decided.
All my love,
Morai."
I shook my head, there was no way I was going to New York, absolutely no way. Laying on the table next to me was another small box addressed from a lawyer's office in New York. The hair on the back of my neck began to rise as I opened it. Inside was a book, a small box and a letter. I opened the letter never looking at the book.
"Dear Ms. Fitzgerald,
We send you this as it has come to our attention that you are the sole beneficiary to one Michael Ryan Conlon."
"Holy shit." I cried, this was too much of a coincidence; a shiver of fear ran through me as I forced myself to read on.
"enclosed is a copy of his will, it has been held in trust for you by members of the family, the last of whom died only days ago. Please come to our New York office to sign documents that must be signed in order to release the rest of the will. Enclose as per the will is a locked jewelry box and a book. I look forward to speaking with you.
Sincerely,
Mr. Peter M. Alexander."
My hands shook as I took the slender box and looked at it, it was a music box, the key tied to the lock on it tied to the music key. I untied it looking at the cover, admiring the beautiful roses that had been carved into the gleaming mahogany wood. I took a deep breath as I unlocked the box, opening the lid causing strains of the Blue Danube waltz filled the air. A gold bracelet winked at me from against the velvet lining of the box.
Briar Rose Fitzgerald born, April 25, 1983 it read, tears filled my eyes. If I had wanted a sign as to whether or not to go to New York, I would have just gotten one. Slowly I took the cloth-covered notebook, the notebook that had brought my entire world crashing down to bed and lay down. I let the music box play until it had stopped from where it had been wound the silence more deafening for it's end. I clutched the book to me as tears streamed down my face and I sobbed myself to sleep.
That was how I found myself in New York City listening to a lawyer drone on about the inheritance I had received. One building and a quarter of his fortune had been left to me along with my bracelet and my book. The building was well kept I realized as the cab pulls along side the street in front of it.
Newsboy Lodging House was freshly painted in yellow on the green sign, it looks better than it ever did in the days I had stayed there. Morai follows me her eyes wide as we stepped from the cab. Luckily she paid the cabby for I was drawn to the front door, the sounds of boys laughter fill the air as I open the door.
"Mimic, ya get up here this instant and give me my hat." I heard Racetrack's voice float down the stairs with memories of the past still vivid in my mind.
"Welcome the the Newsy museum." I heard a voice say, turning I look to find a young woman looking back at me.
"Hello." I said absently my mind turning back to the rooms in front of me that looked nicer than I remember them.
"You are the new owner right?" she asked I looked at her blankly " The lawyers said you would be coming."
"Oh yes," I reply.
"Feel free to look around." She said then, " Call me if you would like to know anything."
I smiled grateful she had taken the hint that I did not want a guided tour. Morai followed me up the stairs to and into the bunkroom, I stopped at the closed door almost expecting to open it and find boys sprawled about it. Taking a fortifying breath I opened it to find bunks neatly in a row, beds neatly made, as they never had been, even clothes neatly hang neatly or folded on the beds. I smiled they would have torn apart this neat haven in minutes. Slowly I made my way to the small room that had been mine opening the door I found it had indeed been kept as a room. Some of my clothes sat on the shelves, my rose colored skirt now faded with age, my cream blouse almost yellow, my boots sitting as next to the bed scuffed and aged, even my corset sat upon the top shelf a spare camisole and pantaloons under it.
I took the faded leather book from my bag; inside lay letters I had not read yet, letters I had only just received from the lawyers. Morai sat next to me on the bed, my bed, as I cleared my throat and began reading.
"My Dearest Cameo,
It has been years since you left, that night that you glowed like the sun and disappeared from the Brooklyn Bridge. The night you left my brother. He offered to include a letter from all of us and I was the first to write mine. He has this crazy idea that you will receive this and even if you don't I suppose it will be good to write. I want you to know that we all loved you. Those that you allowed close, but none so much as my brother, I watched your romance, I watched as it came together, fell apart and came together again. As you read this you may feel anger toward the man that you loved so deeply and I do not blame you for it. Neither does he, he blames himself that things happened the way they did and because of that has devoted his life to being something, someone. A person to be remembered that he might reach across time and tell you what he could not in life. I do not know how you got here or even if his stories are true, but if it is please, please come back to him. I wish you the best what ever you choose, but know that we love you and we miss you.
Warmest Regards,
Gabriel Anne O' Leary"
"She married him." I whispered. " Glimmer married Skittery."
"Good for her I think." Morai whispered back. Slowly I went through each of them, Mush, Blink, Mimic, Race, even one from Jack. Finally I reached the last one, the letter I had saved until the end. The bold writing seemed to leap off the page at me and with a shaking voice I read it.
" Briar,
That is what I called you, so often instead of Cameo as everyone else did. It was as if I called you that I could make you mine. You were so full of spirit, so wild, so different, I suppose that is what made me fall in love with you. Odd if I had uttered those words when you asked I have a feeling I would not to be writing this letter today. You asked if I loved you and I did, though I find it hard to write even in a letter. I could not say it then, I could not let you know what I felt, I was too afraid you would leave. Instead I did not and you did leave. I do not know how to let you know, I do not know what I can do so I have done all I can think of to reach across time and tell you what I could not while you were at my side.
I went to see the Lodging House today. Reporters were there when I got there, full of questions. They think I'm an eccentric man, too sentimental as I have saved it and restored it before they could tear it down. A historical landmark I told them when I put the money up to pay for it. They didn't challenge me, not me the most powerful lawyer in New York. They wouldn't dare after I threatened to take it to court. They wonder why I saved it; there are a few who know.
I found myself with a dilapidated old building; I did not want to restore it by myself if I could help it. So I turned to those that could help, that had memories in this old building as well. Jack Sullivan soon to be mayor bestowed money upon my little project. David now manager of his campaign had urged him to it; it would look good to the public. My sister stepped from beyond her silver screen and offered money I took. Mush and Blink better known now as Alex and Jonathan brought a check all the way to New York from their director's chairs in California.
Finally when I had enough I watched the worker's telling them what should go where and how things had been. There was one room they were not allowed to touch, one room I restored myself, one room that was why this whole project had come about. It had been your room, but you were no longer here, I couldn't smell your scent in the dusty sheets as I could all those years ago. That sweet smell of roses and you, it haunts me from time to time. Everything was as I remembered it though your one skirt and shirt were moth eaten and your corset starting to fall apart. A faded hat halfway poked from under a water-ruined pillow. A hat that had been your protection while selling on the streets, not that you needed that protection you had me or one of the other men previously mentioned. I had everything remade just as it had been in the colors it had been in. To be replaced if they were ever damaged.
I wanted you to come here if you did and remember life as it had been, hopefully remembering all the good times instead of the bad.
That was the true reason behind the restoration. It was a way to remember my past, a way to remember you, a way to reach across time and tell you what I never could as the fearless leader of the Brooklyn Newsies. That I loved you, I loved you with a passion that has never dimmed. A passion that has forced me to become more than what I was in the hopes that I would be remembered in history, that you would know me in your time.
There are those who think I'm crazy with my support of the research behind time travel. Those that shake their heads as I stop to talk to the gypsies in the park asking questions that make them flick the sign against the evil eye. They have all been dead ends. My only recourse now is in the building I have created a museum of. I pray that it will survive the years. I have money hidden away, money that will serve me well should some of the events you foretold come to pass, you have yet to be wrong.
I remember the night she left, the night it was pouring rain, the night we thought she was crazy. I know it was Sarah, I want you to know it. She was jealous of your strength and ability to make an entire room look to you just by entering it. You was humble yet cocky, you was sweet yet you could leave a bitter taste in my mouth when you stood up to me. You were fiery, never could you be called meek, you was strong and brave, you were a pain in my ass half of the time.
You came to us nearly eighteen years ago, still a child, yet so much a woman. So different than all the other women, maybe that is what originally attracted me to you. You were different, in your thoughts, your actions, in some ways you acted like a man, yet I have never seen anyone more feminine. Nor have I ever seen anyone more in need of us.
Your name was Briar Rose, you had been named for Sleeping Beauty and that was ironic. When you came to us she was sleeping, all of your emotions and reactions in hibernation still reeling from your mother's death, still in pain from your father's defection. Slowly I watched you waken, your emotions come to the surface, a passion within you that could rival Jack's when she wanted.
I betrayed you, I did not believe in you. I thought you were crazy; I wanted to push you away because you were getting under my skin as no woman ever did and ever will.
I find I am babbling as I write this, babbling, as I never have. Wouldn't they love to hear how the most successful lawyer in New York, who is so praised for his eloquence, is stumbling on these words? I suppose this is my last effort to reach you, to tell you what I never did.
Briar, if you find this I loved you with all my heart. I did not know how much until you left. I need you; I would give everything for one moment again with you. I love you Briar.
Ever Yours,
Michael
Tears streamed down my face as Morai finished it for I could not. The sunlight filtered in from the bunkroom in the fading light I let Morai hold me.
"You came." The voice startled Morai and I both of us jumping in the air like a startled cats. I whirled to see a woman I had not seen in five years since I had hurled the amulet and curses at her head. "I warned you that you would wish to see me again."
"Do you always have to frighten me?" I snapped standing and facing her.
"It is your choice child, it has always been your choice." She responded evasively. I rolled my eyes ever the one for riddles I thought.
"Will he be there?" I asked knowing I would not want the answer.
"You are mistaken child if you think you were sent back to find your true love." She told me. " You were sent back because despite your difficulty in adjusting you were meant to be there. It is your place and your time, we cannot force the choice upon you, you must make it. If he is there he is, if he is not he is not. I must warn you though it will be your last time traveling. I can not allow you to come back."
In her hands I saw the amulet, the jewel in its pendant glowing from within beckoning me. Quietly I held me hands out accepting what she wanted to give. I had not returned home, I had returned to exile, I would now be going home.
Sorry guys I don't have time for separate SO's today, I'll try to get them in later! I love you all thank you so much for taking the time to review!