The plane landed at the Brooksville-Tampa Bay Regional Airport. The flight was fine and Harper didn't have any problems getting through baggage. But she realized, walking toward the exit, she hadn't made any other travel arrangements with Layla or her family for when she landed. Just as that thought crossed her mind, she paused at something curious. There was a man in a crisp tuxedo holding a white sign with the word 'Kelly' written across it.

Surely it couldn't have been meant for her, so she kept walking. As she neared passing the man, he spoke. "Excuse me, miss. Are you Harper Kelly?" he asked, with an indescribable accent that over punctuated every vowel. Now Harper stopped, surprised.

"Um…yes, I am," she replied, turning toward the man. "How'd you know I'd be here?"

"Layla called and sent me for your arrival while you were in flight," the man explained, tucking the sign under his arm. "Please, allow me to take these for you." Without warning, he plucked her bags from her arms and then started walking with a curtly, "The car is just out front." Harper was baffled by the whole situation. But if Layla set it up, why not use it? So she followed the man outside the airport.

Sure enough, a shiny black Rolls Royce was waiting parked alongside the curb. The man opened the back and started putting her duffel and back pack in. Harper stood on the sidewalk beside the car, still a little in shock from it all. "So, um…sorry, what's your name?" Harper asked.

The man shut the back and walked around to Harper's side, the passenger side, and pulled open the back door. "You can call me Mr. Wright," he answered, gesturing for her to get in the car with a hand. A little reluctantly, Harper slid into the back seat and Mr. Wright closed the door behind her. Everything in the car seemed too perfect. Like if she moved or even breathed the wrong way something expensive would break.

So she sat still as much as possible, clipping on her seatbelt. Mr. Wright slid into the front seat and started the engine, then pulled away from the sidewalk. "Where exactly is the house?" Harper asked, leaning left just enough to see the man in the rear view mirror. "I didn't get a chance to ask Layla."

"Nantucket, Miss Kelly. The Rainbow Cottages."

"And you're June's driver?"

"I'm afraid not. My services are hired by Mr. Cummings…and that of his daughter." Harper tried to recall what Layla had said about her parents. June was single and the ex had moved on. So her ex-step father was paying for this? From Mr. Wright's tone he didn't seem too pleased about the daughter part. But that could've just been Harper's interpretation and not the actual context. So she chose to ignore it.

The drive was nice, quiet. She'd never been to Florida before so it was interesting to see what the layout of the land was like. When they finally arrived at the Rainbow Cottages Mr. Wright had mentioned, it was near three o'clock in the afternoon. They pulled up in front of a light blue cottage, between two pink cottages, and Mr. Wright slid from the driver's seat. First he went to Harper's door and opened it for her.

After she got out, he shut the door and went for the bags in the back. Harper took the opportunity to survey the house. It was a trim two-level home with neatly manicured shrubbery and a crisp lawn surrounding it, along with the palm trees nudged between all of the cottages. She could see the makings of a fenced pool behind the cottage as well. All she could think of was how much this must all cost.

And they weren't near any kind of cancer treatment facility. It brought so many questions. Like, who was paying for this? And, how was June getting treatment if she lived here? She filed the questions away on a post-it note in her mind to ask about later. Just then, Mr. Wright closed up the car and brought Harper's bags to the clean sidewalk. "Right this way," he nodded, and started for the front door.

Harper took a deep breath and followed shortly behind. It was so surreal. Right behind a simple thing as a wooden door were the answers to the questions that had threatened to choke her for many years—her whole life, even. Mr. Wright pushed through the door and Harper stepped inside behind him. "You will be staying in the guest room, just up the stairs and to the left," he explained, closing the door behind them.

"Okay, thank you," she said, stopping just before the living room. The wide, open living area leads right, into an open faced kitchen. And straight ahead from the front door was the back door, over-looking the pool Harper spotted from the sidewalk. "Let me know if I can be of service," Mr. Wright said, before skirting around her and leaving through the front door. Harper suddenly felt a bit claustrophobic.

She wasn't trapped in, it was a very open space. But she couldn't breathe quite right. Then she noticed it—the silhouette sitting in a chair in the living room, near the backdoor, facing away from her—and it felt even worse. Against everything in her, telling her to run, she started walking. One foot in front of the other. Slow, careful steps across the living room.

The closer she got, the better she could see just who it was. An older looking woman wearing a rose-colored knit cap to cover an obviously bald head, an open book in hand, not seeming to have noticed Harper was there yet. It was The Book Thief from what she could tell. "June?" Harper's voice came out small, strangled.

But the woman looked up as Harper stood a few feet from the chair. Her worn features creased and folded as her lips curved up into a smile. "Hello," she greeted. Her voice wasn't at all what Harper was expecting, but there was something familiar in it. "It's so nice to finally see you."

Harper swallowed. She didn't know how to act, what to say. "Please, sit," June offered, gesturing a hand out at the chair a foot or two across from her. Sitting, Harper thought, was probably a good idea. That way, her legs couldn't collapse from beneath her. So she sidestepped over to the chair and carefully lowered herself in it. For a moment, all she could do was stare at the woman. But June wasn't as keen on the silence. "It was a long flight. You must be hungry? Thirsty? I can get you something-"

"No, no- that's okay," Harper shook her head.

June nodded a little, sitting back in her chair an inch. "Well, I'm sure you must have questions then? I know I certainly do."

"You go first."

"Oh, alright...were you adopted? Was the family nice?" June seemed eager. Hopeful, more like. Secretly hoping that she hadn't made a mistake in trusting her fears at sixteen. But Harper shook her head, only draining the hope from June's face. "I wasn't adopted," Harper answered, neutrally as possible. "I moved around to a lot of different homes."

"I see. Where did you go?"

"A few different states. San Diego was my home for a long time. That and Arizona."

June sat forward. "Arizona's nice."

"Um, it's alright. The people aren't the best."

"They were good to you, though, right?"

"No," Harper shook her head. And June's face dropped. She didn't know what it was. Anger, hatred, vindictiveness. She didn't know what specifically, but something made Harper pull up her sleeve and bare her forearm—more specifically her wrist—for the woman across from her to see. June's eyes drifted down as Harper spoke. "They beat me. Yelled at me, starved me, worked me until I dropped." June's eyes rounded and then softened.

She placed a frail looking, jittering hand over her lips. "Oh my..."

"I waited for you. Every day of my life I spent in that God forsaken house—I waited for you. I waited for you to realize your mistake and come find me and take me home. But you never did. And I spent years there. Completely helpless to what they were doing. No one would help me, no one would believe me," Harper vented, letting it out finally. Letting out what she would've said earlier, but didn't know how. June looked mortified.

Completely horror-stricken, sitting silently. At a total loss for words. Finally, she took a shaky breath, and lowered her hand back into her lap. She looked to Harper's face. "I'm so sorry, I...I didn't know what else to do, I...my little baby girl..." the woman looked on the verge of tears. And Harper felt bad for a second. But then she felt all the anger inside her from all those broken and damaged years and she didn't feel so bad anymore.

She dropped her sleeve and sat up straight, her expression firm. Unyielding. "I never wanted any of this to happen," June explained, almost pleadingly so. "I was so scared—I couldn't raise a child on my own. We'd have both been living in a dumpster somewhere! I thought I was doing the right thing, giving you to someone that could care for you the way you deserved."

"And you never once wondered about me?" Harper questioned.

"I thought about you every day. There was not a moment when I didn't wonder what happened to you," June corrected.

Harper fiddled with her hands in her lap, not knowing what else to do with them. She felt naked. Vulnerable. There was no hiding anymore. There was nothing to put in between herself and this situation. All she could do was get her answers. "Why didn't you come get me?" Harper's voice cracked. "When you started a new family- why didn't you find me?"

June loosened her shoulders, eyes full of water. "I thought...I thought maybe you'd found a home. And if I'd found you, I would've ruined that for you. I didn't want to be the reason you weren't happy."

"Don't you get it? You were the reason I wasn't happy," Harper was fuming through the tears starting to roll off her cheeks.

"Yes, I...I understand that now," June nodded a little, her voice quiet. "Please know that I- I am truly sorry for all of the horrible things I put you through. It was the last thing I wanted. I understand that I made a mistake. Trust me, dear, I know what I've done. But if you can find it in your heart to accept my apology...or at least, for my sake, pretend you forgive me...I will never bother you again."

Harper paused. "What do you mean?"

"I'm dying, sweetheart. I don't have much time left. Even if you don't forgive me, lying to me will do just fine. Once I have that...I can die in peace."

"You..." Harper sat back, her eyebrows knitting together in confusion. "You wanted to get my forgiveness so you can die? But, Layla said-"

"I'm afraid Layla was ill informed. I didn't want her to be too upset had she not found you. But I've been ready to leave this earth for a long while," June explained, calmly. It didn't seem to faze the woman. Like dying was something she'd made peace with. But dying without seeing her, Harper assumed, had not been dealt with yet. "I only kept up treatment on the chance I might get to see you."

A confusing mess of bittersweet emotions tangled in a ball in Harper's stomach. Now she just felt sad. So deeply saddened. "But, I...I just met you," Harper sounded hopeless.

"Well, I'd still like to get to know you, if that would be alright."

Harper nodded, swiping at her under eye with her sleeve. "Okay. What do you want to know?"

"Where do you live? Is it nice there?"

"Hawaii, and yeah it's pretty nice. I, um, I surf," Harper answered. June perked up at that, sitting forward in her seat as she continued, "Yeah, I worked at this little beach shack right next to the ocean. Right now I'm trying to get a job taking photos."

June's lips curled up. "You're a photographer?"

"A little, I guess," Harper nodded.

"Do you have any pets? Friends?" June inquired. She seemed too enlightened to stop asking questions. She'd wanted to know for so long. It was too hard to hold herself back once she got a taste. June was finally getting to know the child she'd wanted to hold since the moment she'd let her go. "I have a dog—Darcy," Harper answered. "And, I have a few friends. They're mostly just my boyfriend's co-workers, though."

"A boyfriend?"

"Yeah, uh, he's a cop of sorts. He runs a special task force, Five-0."

June looked overjoyed. "What's this young man's name?"

"Steve McGarrett," Harper replied.

"What's he like?" Just sat back, crossing a leg over her knee. Only drawing to attention the thin, frail state of her body. Harper tried to ignore it and just answer the question, but it tugged at her the whole time. "Well, he was a Navy Seal, big military guy—so he's pretty fit. And he's tall, with dark hair. He's guarded about a lot of things. But he's got a big heart," Harper described.

"Do you think there's a wedding in the near future?" June prodded, with a light smile.

Harper chuckled a little. "Uh, well, I don't know about that."

"But you love him? And you're happy?"

"Yeah...I'm happy," Harper nodded a little. Happy in the way June meant it, yes. Happy in other ways would be a stretch.