A young woman with unmanageable curly dark hair sits at a desk in a scarcely light room and writes

‘June 24th 2012

Z, baby of mine, unknown to most and never known to any. No, I don’t hate what happened. I know you will return to me when the time is right… For now I am too young and my body simply wasn’t ready.

Just know I’ll be here when you are ready to come down and change the lives of so many.

I love you already.’

With that, she flipped the journal shut, pushed her slender frame back from the desk and wiped her eyes with the palm of her hand. She crawled into bed and her sobbing form quickly succumbed to sleep.




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