HERE IT IS.

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Henry felt his wife's hand clutching tighter to him, as she laid her head on his shoulder from behind – as if sheltering herself from what could be pain. What could be disappointment.

He simply leaned into her more, trying to reassure her that it would be ok.

And how he hoped it would be.

The floodlights on the Tarmac kept the darkness at bay, and Henry was amazed to see all the people who were there.

Daisy had refused to alert the press – knowing that this moment needed to be a moment only for them. But Elizabeth's staff were there – all of her and his security guards – Allison – former staff. He couldn't overlook the medical team in the corner – yet another reminder that this was not all happiness.

Elizabeth tensed as Isabelle stepped out of the plane onto the stairs. She was walking, a little slower than normal – but she then assumed a position of waiting.

"Where is she?" Elizabeth asked, as her body tightened up, knowing there was no answer Henry could give. Henry instead just rubbed her hand with his thumb.

Then Allison's voice hit his ears, "Dad, where is she? Why isn't…"

Then Isabelle held up a finger – just to wait a minute. And Henry tried to defuse the situation by whispering to Elizabeth, "Just give her a minute. This has got to be hard for her too…"

"Oh Henry… what if she's not ok?" He could hear the catch in his wife's voice. "What if…"

And Henry looked behind him just a second – a split second – to see Conrad Dalton in the shadows. Standing there – watching. The man put his hand up and stepped back – as if showing that he knew to give them space. And Henry nodded his agreement.

"Henry…" Elizabeth gasped. And he turned back. "Henry…"

"Dad!" Allison whispered.


The lights felt like fire after the darkness of the cargo plane. Emma squinted, pulling back into the plane.

Could she do this? What…

And she heard Isabelle's voice, "Hey, I'm here – I'll walk with you."

And Emma looked to her like a lifeline. Her entire body shook as she let Isabelle take her hand. She focused on stepping down the stairs, lifting the hem of her dress with her free hand. Her lips quivered. The metal steps felt cool on her bare feet. A gently breeze flew across her face, and she brushed her curls behind her ears.

It wasn't until she touched the ground that she finally looked from her feet to the people standing across the way.

Multiple people. Groups. Her eyes moved fast… terrified.

What if she couldn't recognize them? What if…

Past men in suits – past a woman in a bright colored coat – past the doctors…

Tears filled her eyes as one of her greatest fears came true – what if she didn't even know her own family? What if…

And suddenly.

Suddenly her fears fell away. And the years floated away just out of grasp.

There her mom stood – wrapped in her dad's arms.

"Mom." She whispered, her throat constricting as tears came to her face.

The pain and suffering evaporated from that moment. Her heart began to beat faster – but for something she'd never thought would happen. It wasn't fear of being caught. It wasn't terror grasping her body refusing to let go every morning waking up in captivity.

Suddenly she was that child again.

That child she'd envied for years.

Her lips quivered and she knew she should run to them. She knew she should fling herself up into their arms and never let go.

But the emotions overruled her body. She couldn't move. Because it just had to be too good to be true. Her mom and dad were here. She was home.


Bess knew it the moment she saw her step out of the plane.

She'd known.

The blond hair, so long and curly blowing in the wind, tried to hide her face, but Bess knew.

The tall frame, covered in a long sleeved black dress, seemed so desperately different from the little girl that Bess had kissed on the forehead that morning years before.

But it wasn't until after the girl scanned the crowd quickly – looking – like a starving child looking for food – looking for survival – it wasn't until the moment that their eyes met.

Then. Bess knew. Deep. Past the skepticism. Past the unbelief. Past the wall she'd put up completely refusing to allow hope to come in. Refusing to be let down again. Refusing to hurt again.

Bess knew.

And at that moment, Bess took off running. Past the security guards. Across the expanse of concrete. She needed to hold her.

"Mom."

To hear that word from her little girl. From the girl who'd been dead. Who they'd had a funeral for – who they'd grieved for – Bess couldn't breathe.

Yet she ran. All the while calling, "Emma. Emma. Emma!"

And then.

She wrapped her arms around her daughter, pulling her into her chest. Feeling her against her. Burrowing her face into her hair. Squeezing her. Holding her tight. Tears fell into Emma's hair from Bess' face. Bess' fingers clutched onto her baby.

"Emma!"

And she felt her daughter's body shaking in her arms, as sobs racked Emma's body. Bess held her closer. "Mommy's here. I've got you, baby."

Bess felt Emma's arms around her, clinging, grasping to her.

"Mom. Mom!" Came the breathless cries from the girl wrapped in Bess' arms.

Bess pulled away, only a little, to look into Emma's eyes. Those blue eyes she'd know anywhere. To see her nose that curved up in the same way.

Years had changed Emma's face – a few wrinkles, lines – worry – tears fell out of Emma's eyes - but Bess simply sobbed and kissed Emma's forehead. "You're home, baby girl. You're safe."

Bess heard Henry beside her. "Em!" And Bess let Emma go – only for a second – to watch Henry pull Emma into a hug, and tears lined his face – along with a beautiful smile. "Oh, my girl, you're home."

And Emma laid her head on Henry's chest, clinging for dear life, as she cried, "Please don't let go, Dad."

And Henry looked at Bess, and he then leaned down and kissed Emma's head, "Em, you're not going anywhere. You're stuck here now."

"Hey. Let me through."

Bess stepped aside to watch Allison embrace Emma – two sisters separated for years – now almost the same height – finding each other yet again.

And Bess let the sobs come. Let the feelings of relief and pent up tension come. She wrapped her arms around herself, and cried. Henry pulled her close, whispering, "She's home, babe. She's here."

Emma stepped away from Allison and touched Bess' arm. "Mom, I'm home."

Because words wouldn't come with Bess' cries, she simply held her little girl – held her close – and vowed to never let go.