I have so much I want to tell you, and nowhere to begin - JD Salinger; Seymour - An Introduction

Chapter 3: Harrowing Good Intentions

Of his more recent regrets, not wearing insulated leggings was Ben Solo's most aggravating one. Behind him, the squad three of the Assembly— the official title of the Sith artifact collection force— waded in silence, blasters raised out of the murky green water of the planet Tof. Above them, shrikes screamed at each other in greeting, searching for landing in the miles of open water. A grey wind picked up, showering Ben's face in a thousand green droplets.

They had received word two hours ago that the information regarding the Bracers of Najus was accurate. His mother apologized for waking him up so early in the morning, and he felt inclined to not tell her that he had spent another night without sleep. She informed him of the mission: the planet, the potential artifact, and the squad he'd be leading. Captain Bethane, of course, was among the troops assigned to the task. Ben's mouth quirked to the side for a moment when his mother told him that.

"I didn't get to choose. The leading officers are assigned at random," she said over the com, by way of apology.

"And it's going to be my fault if some sea creature happens to take a bite out of him."

"That's why you're going, Ben," her voice hummed through the static. "To minimize casualties, should anything happen."

Minimize casualties. The thought was a strange one, but his mother had spoken it without any hesitation, without any pause. She believed in him, wholly.

It would have to be enough for the both of them.

"What are we looking for?" Captain Bethane barked from behind, stirring Ben from his reverie. Hastily, the captain added, "sir."

"The ground will turn from soil to metal when we're close to the Temple," Ben responded. He locked his spine to prevent a shiver from being made visible. The wind splashed him again. Lined legging from now on, he made a note in his head.

"Temple?" One of the men, Ludgate, asked from the back. "We're looking for a Sith Temple?"

"Sorry, gentlemen, we might get our blasters dirty on this one," Ben replied. Beneath the water, his foot hit something round, like a hatch handle. He didn't need to look back to feel the frown on Ludgate's face.

He was about to reach down to see what he had bumped into, when he sensed something move on the edges of the Force. Something big.

Ben lifted a hand to stop Captain Bethane as he approached. The captain's face darkened at the command.

"What? Snagged your dress on something?"

The big thing was traveling, fast, right towards them, but he couldn't pinpoint the location.

"Shut up," Ben muttered. Standing up right, he rapidly scanned the horizon, searching for movement in the water. "There's something coming."

A few men in the back froze, horror on their faces, but Bethane rolled his eyes. "Yeah, Jedi? What have you got for us? Aggressive turtle makin' a path for us?"

Without warning, a tentacle two feet in diameter and sixteen in height, launched out of the water. It grabbed Ludgate around the waist, and launched him into the grey. Five more tentacles appeared and knocked several of the men under.

"You tell me," Ben's finger trailed across the trigger of the blaster on his hip. The weapon felt heavy in his hand. "Does that look like an aggressive turtle to you?"

"OPEN FIRE!" Bethane screamed and blasted the arms of the giant creature. The remaining men joined in. Beneath the water, the monster shrieked.

The whirling tentacles slowed. Every droplet of fear was detailed on the men's faces. Their blasters made a deep, echoing booming noise with each release. Their screams were hollow.

Ben Solo was concentrating.

He could hear the drum beat of his heart in his ears, feel it in his chest. The hand on the trigger wavered. He tunneled the Force, scanning the giant creature for weak points in its incredible strength. But the deeper he dove, the harder he looked, the more the darkness stirred.

His own breath was harsh in his ears.

Minimize casualties, minimize casualties, minimize casualties.

When he raised the weapon, despite a terrible but weak and distant echo nagging that his fist should be clenched around a weapon made for powerful kings (not fools), he was glad for the security of the recoil.

He fired into the knuckle of the massive creature and it released its grip on Bethane.

The darkness receded.

"I can hear you not concentrating from four sectors up."

Rey drove her nails into her palms, Luke's voice the final crack in her focus, and the levitating book, several stones, and a plant came crashing to the ground. Her eyes snapped open and she huffed. She glared at the smirking Jedi who leaned in the doorway. She stood up from her cross-legged position and angrily snatched up the meditation stones.

"I'm concentrating just fine," Rey scowled. Which they both knew was a lie. Her skin was too tight on her bones, her muscles tense. The meditation stones weren't working, and of course, the two hours of sleep only added to the litany of frustrations.

Valiant was so thrilled to house the Champions and the Organa family, they had eagerly converted a bedroom near the local garden as a temporary meditation chamber. Rey had wandered down there shortly after dawn when the parades began again and the noise was forcing her to reread the same sentence of Obi Wan's third year as a padawan— only a few pages into the journal.

At night, when the Jakku wind was cool, and the panicked starving was momentarily at bay, Rey nestled down in her cockpit with scratchy blankets and reed matting and absorbed technician manuals, old star charts, and ironically herbology texts— whatever she could get her hands on without anything bigger chasing her down for it. Thick tomes, to pamphlets, to posters, they all became ties to a larger world, an ever-expanding galaxy in which her family, somewhere, resided. Years and tastes evolved, and there were times she went with nothing to read, and exhaustion from cracking open the skeletons of old Empire ships overtook her more and more frequently. But still Rey secretly considered herself an excellent reader.

Which was why Rey was ready to scream.

The damn thing was in code.

The syntax was rough and bumpy. In some places it made no sense whatsoever. In her hands, she held her first link, her only link, to her family, and she was reading it slower than hippabore.

"It doesn't make any damn sense!" Rey snapped and she roughly snatched up the meditation stones. "The journal keeps talking about systems that don't exist, and events that never happened! It's just rambling about forms and practices that you never even mentioned, Master, and the Jedi Council—what a bunch of loons!"

Luke smirked and picked up the journal, smiling into its pages as if sharing some secret.

"After the Fall of the Jedi and the rise of the Empire, Obi Wan recognized that the information in this book could be potentially very dangerous for the remaining survivors of the council. So he went back through and changed everything that could lead to someone being found and killed."

"So it is a code!" Rey exclaimed, standing up right and throwing her loose hair into a wiry halo around her head. She locked away the single thought had been slowly building in the back of her mind. It was a thought that scaled her through, like a saber to the chest. No matter how hard she tried, how ardently she read, Obi Wan felt nothing familiar, certainly nothing like what she imagined a grandfather would feel like, sound like. But Luke always had a way of knowing things, even things she tried to keep hidden. He watched her joy fade, replaced by a block of fear.

Rey pulled a strand of hair behind her ear, afraid to make eye contact.

"I don't know him, Master Luke," she said, quietly. "I mean, obviously . . . but he is still such a stranger. This is his handwriting, his thoughts, but I—he—"

"He doesn't feel like family."

Her master nodded and crossed his arms over the journal.

"Yes, Rey, it is code. But I don't have the key. I got this journal from one of Obi Wan's oldest friends, Dax, with specific instructions to help Obi Wan's lost granddaughter."

Rey's mouth went dry. "How did you know it was me?"

Luke sighed, his forehead creasing for a moment. "Dax knew. I don't know how but he knew your name and that you were abandoned as a child."

Something flared from within Rey. "Remind me again, why you didn't tell me this when we first met?"

"Please understand, Rey, when Obi Wan first met me, he told me my father had been murdered by Darth Vader, and he had been a pilot. Technically, both lies. I never intended to do the same to you, but I didn't know your father, or your mother. To be truthful, I wasn't sure how you would take it. What would you have done if some old guy on a rock told he knew your grandfather from forty years ago?"

Rey exhaled, her anger depleting to a frustrated confusion once more. He was right. She never would have trusted information like that; it would have been too good to be true. Luke smiled his bright smile, one Rey had come to recognize as the one he used to get out of trouble with Leia.

"Do you know what happened to them, my family?" Rey asked.

Luke sadly shook his head, the charming smile evaporating. "I was hoping this book could give us some answers."

Rey's throat constricted. "Me too."

"But this was never my story. I wish I could hand you the truth, but that's not my place as your friend, or even your Master. You must search your feelings and find it for yourself. And," he added, the mysterious smirk back on his face, "the library here on Christophsis has a port to the Jedi Archives on Coruscant. We keep records of all the Jedi there, including personal recordings. For now, it can be a place to start."

Her eyes grew big and she lunged for the book, but Luke easily pulled it out of her reach.

"Ah, ah, you have to have the proper access codes to get into the archives. And I don't have them."

Rey frowned. "Okay, then who does!"

She trotted up the crystalline staircases, skipping up the last two with a jump. Narrowly avoiding a pack of Ortolan monks, Rey yelped an apology, ignoring several glares, before bounding towards the large plated doors that led to the medical wing of the capital building. The door was propped open, and inside, several medical droids bustled back and forth between soldiers prone and groaning on beds.

Rey slowed her speed. She recognized the insignia on their arm bands. It was the same that Leia had personally delivered to her, Finn, and Poe: the mark of the Assembly. These men had recently gotten back from a recovery mission, and something didn't want the artifact taken. Some were missing their arms, one was profusely bleeding. Rey almost stopped: one's face was blurred purple, with giant welts covering his nose and lips.

"Sit back, sir, and we'll get you taken care of," the med droid chirped.

She had no idea the missions had already begun. The satchel that held Obi Wan's journal knocked against her hip, heavy. Did this mean Poe and Finn were out there too?

Across the wing, Rey caught sight of Leia's light hair, pulled back in her usual braid. She was talking to someone with concern. As she approached, she noticed the large red cord of welts and bruises across the soldier's bare back. Though his torso was wide, the wounds wrapped across his shoulder and down to his opposite hip. Whatever had grabbed him, it held on— hard.

"Are you certain?" Leia asked, her brow furrowed.

The soldier nodded. "I know what I saw. It was a Kraken that attacked us, but the Temple itself was unlocked. Someone had been there before. But they didn't have a deep enough knowledge of the Dark to steal the artifact."

His broad back was littered with white scars, some having never properly healed. Rey recognized them instantly, sharing many of the same kind: saber scars. He had been at the mercy of someone with no restraint. The visible freckles were nearly lost in the small white lattices and mud.

Leia's frown grew darker. "Well, this is alarming."

Rey reached out with the Force to sense the cause of Organa's distress— and bumped into something solid. The soldier turned and Ben Solo was staring at her.

Rey blinked, her neck warming. She suddenly felt as though she had walked into something extremely private.

"Rey," Organa said, her face breaking into a smile.

Ben quickly stood up and slipped a Preter jacket over his chest wound that matched the one across his back. The scar running across his rigid right shoulder up through his forehead was momentarily visible before the jacket covered him fully. Rey focused on Organa. Only on Organa.

"How can I help you?" Leia asked.

"I hope I'm not interrupting," Rey replied. "The men . . . what happened?"

Leia glanced behind her and sighed. "Assembly's first mission went as well as we could have hoped— which is saying a lot. We retrieved the Sith artifact from its location, but at some personal cost. It's locked up tight in an underground vault."

"Are Finn and Poe out on a mission?" Rey was unable to keep the worry from her voice. Leia's eyes widened momentarily.

"No, no, our intel isn't good enough for a full mission anywhere else." Leia continued to frown. "I didn't call on you for this one because Luke told me what he gave you, and I figured you would want some time alone."

"Is this about your family?" Ben suddenly asked.

This was the first time in recent memory that Ben Solo had addressed her directly. He must have done it some other time, asked something, commented on some statement, but as he towered before her, his dark eyes rimmed with what felt like legitimate concern, Rey could remember no such instance.

"Yes," she replied, "Luke is helping me find my family."

Kylo Ren had been built of searing shadows and scarlet light— and anger, so much anger. Ben, Ben Solo, was blue and silence, strenuous silence. She had forcibly knocked against his concentration, this impenetrable wall that looped his psyche like a wrought iron gate. While she quietly disagreed with Finn that Kylo Ren still lurked beneath a passive façade, there was not a chance in Hoth that she would trust Solo, even for a second.

Rey shot him a defiant glare as if to confirm this.

"And what have you found?" Leia asked.

Ben's eyes may have narrowed for a second, but the movement was lost when he looked at his mother. Rey thought darkly of what a rematch between the old Sith and herself as a new, trained Jedi would be like. How quickly she would make all thoughts of betraying Leia evaporate from that stupid head—

Stop, her thoughts scolded her, you can't think like that. He's one of us, if only for Leia's sake.

Rey swallowed and straightened up. "Nothing, m'lady. Obi Wan— my grandfather— he wrote everything in code and I can't seem to understand it."

"I can help. If you would like." Ben intruded again. "I was very good at decoding in the Academy."

Rey felt the satchel's weight on her hip again and her fingers clenched around the strap. She would have rather dropped her pants to her ankles in front of the entire Assembly before handing over this family secret.

"No, I'd rather figure this out on my own." Poe would be proud of the ass you're making of yourself. "General, I was actually hoping I could have the login code to the Jedi Archives on Coruscant. Luke said all Jedi leave recordings of their progress there, and maybe there's a clue."

Leia nodded. "Use my code on one of the data computers in the Great Library. It should give you complete access."

Rey smiled, but it didn't reach her eyes. The smell of bacta was overpowering and it made her stomach churn. And, despite her hostility, Ben still watched her with a look of concern.

The Great Library on Christophsis was a marvel all its own, even in comparison to the Jedi Archives. The crystalline walls here were a gentle green, wrapping up into a brilliant spiked point hundreds of feet in the air. Up high, the crystal structure was thinner so soft gold light poured down onto the rows and rows of records. Vibrating in their cases, the electric data twinkled, racing along the ports. Rey got the distinct impression that she was hovering deep inside a blade of grass on a sunny day.

In the center of the room, access terminals allowed viewers to peruse their specified information on large screens, for either copying or scanning later on. A large knot rising in her throat, Rey waved briefly to the librarian making her rounds, before sliding into one of the access terminals on the far end of the row.

As a child, she imagined her parents in every way possible. Tall and skinny, short and fat— full of food, and drink, and joy— with blonde or brown hair. Her father with glasses and a beard, or with a long narrow face. Maybe he had her knack for tech, for constructing gadgets, playing with widgets to make something new, useful. Or maybe that was from— her mother always smiling, always smelling nice, warm, and a fierce pilot (maybe?)

Was from her mother that she got her penchant for spicy flavors? Did her father's hair always release into frizzy curls in the slightest drop of humidity? Who loved the sound of the rain at night? Who would have comforted her during the sandstorms at night? Who sang better? Which one snored? Who preferred caf to tea in the morning?

A mother and father who could have been queens and kings, politicians, smugglers, guards, artisans, servers in CoCo Town diners— all possibilities—

But a grandfather?

Rey had never considered, never dreamed of what that might have meant. That a galaxy that contained her parents would extend further still into something that resembled a lineage, a legacy. A family name. Instead of home being an isolated incident, she was the heir to a line of warriors.

She swallowed and vaguely wondered if she should have brought the rest of Finn's fox beer.

Her hands shaking, Rey entered Leia's codes, connected to the Jedi Archives on Coruscant and waited. The Archives opened up in front of her, and with a slow hand, Rey searched the name of her grandfather: Obi Wan Kenobi.

Several articles from the Holonet immediately returned.

GENERAL KENOBI'S AGGRESSIVE FRONT AT THE BATTLE OF KAMINO SUCCESSFUL

General Obi Wan Kenobi and his former apprentice Anakin Skywalker have given the Republic an astounding victory against the droid army on the Clone home world of Kamino. Separatist leader General Grievous had been forced to run after such a defeat . . .

CAMPAIGN AT RYLOTH A SURE VICTORY

General Anakin Skywalker and his padawan, Commander Ahsoka Tano, brought first relief to the sieged city of Ryloth by breaking the Separatist blockade. With the help of General Obi Wan Kenobi, Commander Cody, and the brave troopers of the Ghost Company, have successfully taken a necessary landing at the nearby city of Nabat . . .

RELIC OF THE PAST OR HOPE FOR A NEW AGE: WHO SURVIVED ORDER 66?

Witness reports claim to have seen the Clone War General Obi Wan Kenobi return to his home world of Stewjon. But how is this possible, readers may ask. The Jedi religion was wiped out by His Greatness, Emperor Palpatine, and the galaxy was assured the old days of mind-control and manipulation in the seat of the government were gone. And yet, there are those who claim some Jedi managed to survive, and one of those might be Kenobi . . .

A media clip from the Holonet sprung up to fill the screen. It was a parade. The text at the bottom read: BATTLE OF NABOO WON BY THE GUNGAN GRAND ARMY. The droid capturing the footage shot a long-ranged view of dancers, banthas, sparklers, and marching gungan. An inspiring melody rang out clear at the front, as the crowd on either side of the wide market street cheered. The parade stopped and the recording droid focused its lens on the steps of the great palace of Naboo. The King was raising something in the air, an electric, glittering orb, high above his head. The crowd cheered louder and the beat rained on. The droid's focus turned to the small entourage surrounding the King.

Rey quickly entered a scanning program and with each face the droid focused on, the Archives information on the person appeared on the screen next to them. The gungan the droid first focused on had wide face, dribbling lips, with a smile that stretched across his entire waxy face.

Boss Rugor Nass:

-Species: Gungan

-Affiliation: Gungan High Council, Trade Federation, Galactic Senate

-Leader of Gungan army during the battle of Naboo

On the screen, the clip continued to play, the droid's lens again scanning the crowd. Gungan dancers were twirling at the foot of the palace and the crowd was cheering them on. Something white and bright caught the eye of the droid.

The camera slid down and slowed again as a wall of text appeared to the right of a young woman's powdered face. She was smiling.

Queen Padme Amidala of Naboo

-Species: human female

-Affiliations: Royal house of Naboo, Loyalist Committee, Imperial Senate

-Born: 14 years before the Invasion of Naboo

-Died: 19 years before the Invasion of Yavin

-Method of Death: Childbirth, resulting in Galactic icons General Leia Organa (former Alderaan Princess) and Jedi Master Luke Skywalker

Rey sat up straighter, and froze the clip, watching the white-faced Queen smile jovially at the roaring crowd. From the very little she knew about the royal family, slowing gathered from drunken arguments, to detailed discussions about the pre-Empire galaxy with Poe and Finn, Rey understood this to be Ben Solo's grandmother— and Darth Vader's former wife. In a word, she was beautiful, a young girl very much fit to lead a people, and undoubtedly a planet. Dressed completely in full Naboo royal robes, she looked no older than fourteen, but encapsulating the very essence of regality. This was years before her husband fell and before the birth of her children. She beamed with the joy of victory, at the success of military leadership. What was going through her head? Did she have the slightest clue of how her life would progress? Of what she would lose in the name of love? Not once, never, since the beginnings of her crash course into this new world of power and battles and life and death, never had she heard Ben Solo mention the name of his grandmother. What would she have said, had she known what her grandson became? Would things have gone differently?

The Girl Queen grinned warmly at the gungan before casting her eyes down to a small, blonde boy near the front of the entourage.

Dirty, his blue eyes squinting in the bright sun and sandy streets, and dressed in little more than slave rags, the boy was enjoying himself. Above him a sparkler exploded into a flurry of bright colors and he pointed excitedly. Queen Amidala laughed and ran a gentle hand through his hair. The boy caught the attention of someone behind him and made the motion of the explosion.

The lens turned to the young man on the other side of the Queen, and Rey's heart erupted into her throat. She jerked the clip to a complete stop and leaned forward.

He was shorter than the gungan, his hair light and cut short, with a thin braid trailing down the back of his neck. His face was young, clean-shaven, and free of scars. His blue eyes were alight, happy. The clip had him paused just as he was replying to the little boy, his mouth open and pulled back. He was making a joke, a very funny one at that.

The program scanned the image and to the right of his face, the information dropped open.

General Obi Wan Kenobi

-Species: human male

-Former apprentice: Jedi Master Qui-Gon Jinn

-Former apprentice: Jedi Knight Anakin Skywalker

-Born: 57 BBY

-Died: 0 BBY

-Method of Death: Murder – Sith Lord Darth Vader (previously Anakin Skywalker)

Here, in a crowd of victory, was her grandfather, not yet a Jedi, not yet fully trained, twenty-five, only slightly older than she was now— and not a care in the world. This was before the Clone Wars, before Order 66, long before Luke and Leia and the Galactic Empire. Long before he was a General, long before he was respected and loved, long before ...

Her grandmother.

She had not yet reached the Battle of Naboo in the journal. Back then, he was still practicing forms, and techniques, not saving entire planets, or running around with queens.

Suddenly, Rey felt a sharp prick behind her eyes and she looked down from the screen, the image almost too painful to consider any longer. But behind her closed eyes, the image of her grandfather's face burned hotly.

I have so many questions . . .

The seats to her left and right shuddered, as the pain her chest swelled. All those years, all of those lonely, terrible, fearsome years on that forsaken desolate planet— did he know? Did he care?

As much as she wanted to pull away from the terminal, stomp back to her training room, and shatter practice droids into space, she owed to herself to learn the truth. She breathed harshly, her mouth and eyes wet. Her hand shaking, she smeared the tears from her cheeks with the palms of her hands. Then she retrieved the journal from her bag, and opened it to where she left off.

Rey went back to the Archives, looking deeper into the former Jedi Council's own personal records of their members.

Three hours later, flipping through old battle plans of the second year of the Clone Wars, she stumbled across a private file. Immediately, the bioscanner flickered to life and a blue light erupted from the small hole, engulfing her. The light stinging her eyes, Rey threw up a hand to keep herself from being blinded.

"Detection complete. DNA accurate. Access to personal files granted."

There came a soft whirring from the terminal and the file opened without hesitation.

Painful tears running out the corner of her eyes, Rey blinked to dull the burning sensation in her retinas.

"Welcome back, General Kenobi."

Rey tried to focus on the screen, her vision blurry, and attempted to reconcile what exactly she had found. Thousands audio and video files came spilling out across the screen. They reached back twenty years, one recorded at least every other day for more than five years.

Her heart swelling, Rey clicked on one at random.

On the holopad next to the terminal, a blue light shimmered and the same young Kenobi appeared, but entirely distraught. He was leaning on something, as though the recording device was set up on a table in front of him. It was clear he had been crying. His soft eyes were red and his nose was wet. He had one hand holding up his forehead and his eyes stared off camera.

Rey's throat tightened, looking around to be sure no one else was around. She wished she was viewing this alone in her apartment. Then she leaned forward just as he began to speak.

"This is for the Galactic Record, on the behalf of section 3.4D of the Jedi Code, when a Jedi has fallen in the line of duty." His voice broke and he leaned back in his chair, sniffing slightly. "Jedi Master Qui Gon Jinn has been brutally murdered by the Sith Lord Darth Maul on the planet Naboo. He is succeeded by his apprentice Obi Wan Kenobi. The Order feels its loss in the heart of the Force."

At that young Kenobi crossed his arms, his fingers rubbing the fresh tears from his eyes.

After a moment, Kenobi cleared his throat and sat up a little straighter, still not looking directly at the camera.

"Again for the record, Darth Maul has been brought to justice by Jinn's apprentice. He was executed for his crimes against the Order, for his crimes of treason, murder, and the use of the Dark Side of the Force. He will never hurt anyone again."

Kenobi swallowed, his hands holding his elbows to his chest. A small figure, floating silently in the dying light of the Great Library, he looked so alone.

"His dying wish was for me to train Anakin." His voice had lost the formal tone, even despite his tears. Rey wondered if he cared that the camera was still recording. "He believed that Anakin is going to be our Savior, that he would bring balance to the entire galaxy. He seemed to think that one pod race was enough to prove it to everyone—," Kenobi snorted derisively, "he can be incredibly stubborn like that— he was incredibly stubborn . . . But Anakin is just a child. He's never even seen anything other than that terrible desert wasteland. He's been a slave his entire life, and somehow, he is going to be this, this extraordinary force for good?"

Kenobi sniffed again, his arms still crossed, and looked at his feet. "He's still just a child . . . But Qui Gon saw something in him that everyone else has missed. And if that's not good enough for me, then . . . then I don't deserve to be called his apprentice."

Kenobi wiped his eyes using the back of his hand and swallowed, clearing his throat again. "I'll begin training Anakin Skywalker as my apprentice first thing tomorrow morning."

Then he reached forward and the projection faded.

The terminal whirred again and a purple light tumbled from the bottom of the screen. The corner of Kenobi's journal was caught in the light. On the very top of the page, a white streak appeared where the light illuminated.

With a trembling hand, Rey reached forward and brought the rest of the book underneath the purple light. Written in between the margins were white words, only visible when the light struck the page. Her heart hammering painfully, Rey leaned forward and noticed that some of the dark words had been crossed out in white streaks, and a new word hovered in the margin above. With the addition of the new word, the syntax flowed. The sentences made sense.

For the first time since the book came into her possession, she heard someone else read the words. The same firm voice as in the projections, young at heart but of a clear determined mind, began to read words in her head that had been dead for decades.

The Great Library had closed, Rey knew that, and by the increasingly darkening light outside, it was well into the evening. By the stars, the librarian had left her there, allowing her to work. She thanked the stars and the kind woman— then she reached into her bag and pulled out a new pen.

She set the clips to autoplay and starting from page one, she wrote down the hidden white words into the margins of the journal, carefully retracing each elegant line and dot. She sat there all night, copying each word as gently as possible, her grandfather's words at long last ringing in her ears.

*A/N: I apologize for the lateness! I'll post two chapters tonight!