Editors Note: I've learned my lesson. ALWAYS triple check the document before posting it, lest one becomes mired in unfiltered HTML garbage and forgotten formatting.

Beth has come over to help her mother clean out the root cellar, a less than pleasant task that her siblings like to avoid. But her mother runs off, and Beth has to search all over the Hopps farm for her. She finds her and the rest of her family consoling a sobbing Stu, and Beth discovers why.

Current Day: Tuesday morning in Bunny Burrow

The day at the Hopps family farm, like any other day, had started normally – calm, peaceful, and full of chores. Beth Hopps had taken the day off from her job at the Bunny Burrows Social Services Department to help her mom, Bonnie, clean out the root cellar. It was among the least favorite of family chores, full of mold and spiders, vile enough that most every other of her siblings found some excuse almost anywhere else be when their Mother announced it was time to clean the cellar out, and those tactics annoyed Beth to no end.

It had to be done, and if so, it was best done quickly. It shouldn't be left to her poor old mother, who was getting on in her years. Beth made arrangements to cover her shift with her work supervisor, took the day off, and made sure to arrive at the crack of dawn dressed in her worst grubby chores clothes. Even then, her mother still managed to beat her down there, where she was already hard at work sorting through old roots and vegetables.

Beth had stooped down under the storm door frame, and had barely stepped a paw onto the dirt floor before her mother had stood up and shoved a steaming mug of coffee into her hands with a flourish and a bright smile. No recriminations, no complaints, just pleasure that her daughter had arrived to help.

They both set to work and after a couple of hours they had cleared most of it away. Beth was in the process of cleaning out some rather nasty radishes – they weren't supposed to be that shade of green, not after sitting underground for a year – and she had just dumped a basket load on the compost pile by the tractor shed. As she was coming back for another load she was nearly run over by her mother who came surging out of the root cellar, waving her paw phone, and screaming at the top of her lungs.

"STU!"

Beth quickly stepped to the side, out of the way, as her mother went tearing by. She could swear that Bonnie hadn't even seen her standing there. How could she, what with all that standing water in her eyes, coursing down her mother's cheeks like rivulets of rain on a windows.

She tried to call out to her mom, but there was no return answer. It was if her mother was so focused on finding her husband that nothing else even intruded into her thoughts. Bonnie went racing up to the edge of the fields and leapt over the old wood fence in a single bound, landing on the other side, and she raced off through the rows of heritage carrots.

Whoa. Beth hadn't seen her mother move like that in years, not since that time that Bobby fell down into the old well and broke his leg. Bonnie was a fit doe, even with her advancing years, but she was never really as athletic as her other daughters had been, especially Judy. Beth smiled to herself with that thought. Now that was a bunny she hadn't thought of in years - her long long sister Judy. Funny that she should think of her lost sibling now.

Well, she wasn't gonna get anything done just standing there, and since Mom had the to-do list on her phone, she might as well follow her out to find Dad. At least she could get an explanation as to what all the yelling and fussing was about. She put the cleaning basket down and climbed over the split log fence her mother had just jumped over.

Well, her parents weren't in the carrot fields, nor were they in the blueberry patches down by the stream. She continued down along the stream, passing green alfalfa fields on the high side and the young shoots of cat-tails down along the other bank. Her only company for a spell was the buzzing of dragon-flies, who tickled her ears as they competed for landing space on the vertical appendages, like little manic commuter helicopters competing for fares.

She came to the end of the fields, and she as started into the apple and pecan orchards, there was a low murmur to be heard. Her ears, swiveling to and fro, led her to a small gathering of her siblings under the apple trees who were in turn ringed about her parents. Her father was on his knees before Bonnie, his coveralls stained with mud and apple juice, sobbing as if he were begging her for forgiveness. Bonnie held his head to her belly, stroking his head and ears, a smile upon her muzzle even as tears coursed down her own cheeks. She looked up at the sound of paw steps upon the fallen apple leaves, and tilted her head toward the approaching white doe.

"Oh, Beth...", she whispered in a hoarse voice and held out her phone to her. Beth picked a way through her kneeling siblings, as they talked in muted whispers, and reached out her paw to take the phone from her mother. Bonnie turned back to Stu, and sank to her knees to join him in expressing what he liked to call the waterworks.

Beth was still confused, though. Her siblings were all here; nobody was missing, so what where they all grieving over? Who had died? She turned her gaze to the phone itself, and looked at the picture that was still displayed on the screen.

That's weird, she thought, who is that? She didn't recognize the large white hare in the photo, but who was the little gray kit? She used her paw and zoomed into the picture. The kit looked surprisingly nondescript, clad in the standard bunny colors of white and gray, and nothing appeared out of the ordinary until she looked at the eyes.

Oh. My. God.

Those eyes. Beth put her own paw to her mouth as she gazed at those lavender eyes; eyes she hadn't seen in ten long years.

Her long lost sister, Judy.

Beth took a deep breath, and looked back up at the rest of her family. They had gathered around her parents, coming together in a Hopps family group hug. Grand-kits and cousins stood outside the group, not realizing what exactly going on, just knowing that it was important. That left Beth as the odd bunny out. She wanted to join in with everybody else, but she also understood that she had been handed a duty by her mother, who had to console her father.

Okay, Beth, pull it together. You're a professional social worker. You've dealt with missing loved ones before. You can do this, she admonished herself. She hit the back button and saw where the message came from. Oh, it's Hugo. It had been a few years since she last talked him. The last time was at her college graduation, she remembered.

She took a deep breath, and stepped a few yards away from the huddle. She pressed the little phone icon to send him a call. Putting the phone up to her ears, she silently sent up a prayer for good news while she waited for it to connect.

Hugo's phone buzzed in his paw. That had taken longer than he expected, although he did imagine that his message might have lead to tears and no small amount of carrying on. He accepted the call, and put the phone to his ear as he voiced a greeting.

"Hello, Bonnie."

"Actually, it's Beth. You remember who I am, right?" He heard from her.

"Um, yes, I do believe so. You're Judy's younger sister, correct? I believe I went to your graduation a few years back, where you had been studying for social work?"

"Yeah, I work for the Bunny Burrow Social Services division these days." Beth took a deep breath before continuing, "I have to ask – is this photo really her? Is it really my sister?"

"Yes, it's Judy, in the flesh. And I also have to ask, where is Bonnie? I'd expected to talk to her about all this."

"She's currently on her knees, trying to comfort Dad, who's kinda incoherent right now. So you get to deal with me, and I get to ask the questions. Who's the doe, and why is my sister in a hospital examination room?"

Hugo smiled to himself. He had expected that he would be dealing with overjoyed and incoherent parents, not the calm voice of one of Judy's siblings. This might go faster now, he thought.

"The doe is my neighbor, Meredith, who is a registered nurse. She has been helping me since last night, when I found your sister. We are currently in a Zootopia clinic, not a hospital."

"Is she sick?" Beth's voice quavered on the other end.

"The doctor thinks its probably just pneumonia, as a result of a case of hypothermia from wandering around Tundratown soaking wet last night, but they need to make sure, so they are running some tests right now."

"Tundratown? What was she doing in Tundratown?" Beth sounded confused and concerned at the same time.

"Actually, I don't know. I do know that she had been living homeless in the Rainforest District most recently, but I don't yet know why. And I have not pressed her for an answer yet." Hugo pointed out to her.

"Okay.. Continue, please." Beth held her breath.

"Your sister has been homeless on the streets of Zootopia for the past three years, apparently, and she has studiously managed to avoid going to any of the shelters, public kitchens, or social services in those three years. You work in social services; I believe you might be able to imagine why?"

"She didn't want to be found." Beth concluded.

"Yes. That is my belief as well. She could have walked into any shelter, and asked for help, but she never did. You've worked with the homeless before; the reasons why they never ask for help can vary for individual to individual: pride, arrogance, substance abuse, or not even having anybody left to turn to. But I think there was something going on."

"Okay..." Beth encouraged him to continue.

"She alluded to hiding in the rain forest district, and that she didn't want to go to the hospital because somebody would 'catch her'. She's been acting paranoid about something, and I haven't discovered what yet."

"Can I talk to her? Maybe she'll tell me?" Beth offered to Hugo.

"Actually, I don't think that is a good idea for the immediate moment. She's just had a blood draw done, and it's made her rather cranky. And like you said before, she didn't want to be found. She was hiding for a reason. She could have called home at anytime, but she would rather die of malnutrition and hypothermia hiding out on the streets of Zootopia than involve her family in what ever she was dealing with. Your sister could be stubborn that way."

"Yeah, I can see that." Hugo could imagine Beth nodding on the other end.

Hugo pointed out, "I also know that I can't push her. I learned that at Cliffside. When your sister is good and ready to talk to me, she will. And not a moment sooner."

"Oh yeah. That's Judy, alright." Beth agreed.

"The other thing your sister was known for at Cliffside, before I met her, was escape attempts. If she feels trapped here in this situation, she might bolt, and I don't know if I could ever find her if she disappeared again. So if she hasn't talked to you in ten years, would you be willing to wait a little longer? At least until we can figure out who she is hiding from, and why she is so scared?" He asked her.

"Dad's gonna be a hard sell on that. He'd be willing to drive non-stop to Zootopia in his truck to pick her up tonight! He's misses her terribly, even after ten years."

"Tell you what – I will make your family a bargain for the moment. I think she would be willing to stay with me until she recovers. I'll send Bonnie a daily picture of her as she gets better, so that your family can have a record of her progress, and I'll make an evening phone call to your parents so that I can tell them about her day. Nothing that would make Judy feel compromised, mind you, but enough that they should feel reassured? And when Judy is ready to talk, I'll encourage her to talk to you all? Would that hold off your father?"

"Yeah, maybe. For a week or so, tops. He's pretty protective of her, even after she stole all that money from him. He wants her back."

"I know. I find it amazing that he can forgive her for that, and the fact that your mother worked so hard with me to help me find her."

"We're Hopps. We love each other, no questions asked." Beth repeated one of Bonnie's favorite family mantras. It was never so more important than now. Even Beth had forgiven her, Hugo knew.

"Thank you. I know that, truly I do. I should be getting back to her now." Hugo reiterated to her, "Please, if you have any further questions, please text me them, and I will call tonight and try to answer them for you."

"Yeah, thank you. I'll do that." Beth assured him. "I don't think my parents will want to – Mom will understand when I talk to her about it, and Dad will probably have to take a tranquilizer to calm down tonight. A little chamomile tea and he will be right out until morning. Once he wakes up, Mom and I will talk to him. It should be okay."

Hugo expressed to her, "Thank you for being understanding."

"Hey, we're the professionals her, ya know? We should act like it!" She knew they were both feeling anything but professional right now, but that was the nature of the job. Keep what you feel inside, and do the job you need to do, so that you can help others. "Talk to you tonight, Dr Wiedii?"

"Most certainly, Ms. Hopps. I look forward to it."

The line went dead as Beth disconnected. Hugo stood up against the wall, put a paw out to steady himself as he collected his thoughts. He smiled a bit, and wandered back down the hall toward the clinic.

Beth stared at the phone, smiled to herself for a moment, and put it away in her pocket. She made her way to the family huddle and stood a moment watching them. Her mother must have been checking up on her phone call, because she looked back up and caught Beth standing there. Beth locked her gaze with her mother, and smiling as she nodded, she mouthed the word Later to Bonnie. Her mother just sighed, and bent her head back her husband's as the rest of the family joined in their relief.

That which had been lost, has been found once more.