Rebecca is baking bread in the kitchen when he son bursts through the door. He's carrying someone – a girl – and she's whimpering and sobbing and clutching at him.
'Thomas, who is this?'
'Her name's Meg.' He takes the girl through to his bedroom, lays her on his bed. He has to prise her fingers from around his neck.
Rebecca sees her face. It's her –the girl she saw by the willow tree. The young woman curls up on the bed, clutching the cover between her fingers and sobbing.
'I have to go and get her father – look after her, mother.' Thomas kisses his mum quickly on the cheek, then races out the door.
Rebecca's head is pounding.
She tentatively approaches the bed, sit on the end. Her fingers are covered with dough, and her hair is coming out of the bun she's woven it into, and she feels numb.
Slowly, she touches the girl's shoulder.
In a flash, the girl brings herself up, wraps her arms around the woman's neck, clutches her and sobs into her dress. Pocahontas wraps her arms around the girl – around Meg – and feels their hearts beat.
'Shh. Shhh.' She whispers it in her ear