21 YEARS AGO

"I heard that you're leaving, going to London."

"What do you want, Hamish?" I responded to the familiar voice located below my perch in the mulberry tree at school. I had received many a detention for being caught sitting here.

"Why do you call me that?" he asked annoyed.

"Why do I call you Hamish? Because it's your name."

"I'm John, John Watson!" he exclaimed, annoyed by my teasing.

"Yeah, John Hamish Watson."

"Whatever," John rolled his eyes before asking, "Are the rumors true?"

"Yes and no. I'm going to Haverfordwest, not London"

"But why? Why are you going? I thought that you were happy here." I arched an eyebrow at him and he quickly added, "Relatively happy."

"I was, until my home was lit on fire and my second cousins - whom were also my adoptive family - were killed," I glared bitterly.

He hesitated before saying, "But why can't you stay here? Why Haverfordwest? It's so far away."

"Haverfordwest is not that far away, only about a four-hour drive away. It's not like I'm moving to New York."

"You'll have to learn Welsh," Hamish said.

"Do you think I want to go? I'm going to live with another family. It'll be my third one!"

"You, get down from that tree this instant!" a very cross voice shouted, causing me to flinch and slide out of the tree. I spot one of the teachers storming over to where John and I now stood - with all feet firmly planted on solid ground.

"I hope you have a good explanation for this," the teacher stormed at me.

"I'm sorry Mrs. Mortisan. It won't happen again. I promise," I say, knowing full well that was a promise I could and would keep.

"Oh, you're Esme Smith, aren't you," Mrs. Mortisan said softly after seeing my face. Mrs. Mortisan had never been my teacher, but she was the triplets' teacher.

"Yes," I nodded.

"I'll let you off the hook this time. Um... I'm sorry for your loss... Your brothers, they were good kids, mischievous, but overall good kids," Mrs. Mortisan said sympathetically. I hated when people did that. I mean, I'm sure Mrs. Mortisan was sincere in what she said, but I didn't want to talk about the family I had just lost. I'm almost glad I was only four the last time this happened.

"Yes, ma'am," I say as she begins to leave.

"What are they going to do about not knowing Welsh?" John asked.

"I have no clue," I respond as the school bell rings, alerting us that it was time to go back to class.

"Well, see you Monday," John said as we headed back to the school building.

"I wish. I'm leaving tomorrow."

"Oh, I guess this is goodbye then. Don't be a stranger around here."

"I'll try," I smile a bit, the first time since that terrible night.