“This is it.  Today is the day!  A whole new start…again.  A whole new me!  Again…”  Her reflection smiled weakly back at her, almost as though the words travelling between her and her creator were somewhat frightening.  No matter how many times she whispered those words to her beautifully innocent reflection—a body-length replica that preserved her most striking features: her gorgeous hazel eyes and her genuine carefree smile—she could never believe those words.

            This whole process was getting a little old.  It wasn’t new to her at all…and she knew from quite a lot of experience that Hollywood lied about a lot of things, particularly acclimation to a new school.  In reality, the sick and cruel joke of “fitting in” never really happens until you are about to leave.

            “Rose!  Are you ready yet?  Let’s go!  This is a big day for you!”  Rose took her eyes off the beautiful reflection and took her mind off her fears.

            “Just a second, Mom,” she half-yelled, half-grumbled to herself.  “I’ll be down in a minute.”  She stood in front of the mirror still longer and ran her fingers through her long, thick hair.  The slightly wavy locks reached her thighs, and the beautiful golden brown shine reminded her of the sun.

            With one hand she smoothed out her shirt, taking care to rid it of wrinkles—taboo for the new-comer, you understand—and with the other hand she absently traced the design on her skirt, a lovely floral pattern that reminded her of where she used to live…

            After running through her mental checklist—notebook, pencil, pens, and her two-pound portfolio—she decided to grab an elastic hair band and snap it onto her wrist, just in case it was hot or something.  The last thing she wanted was frizzy, thigh-length, thick hair…ugh…

            She grabbed her cute little book bag and darted down the spiral staircase, which was probably just about the only thing she really liked about this new house.  It was big and roomy, but it held no joy for her.  She liked their first home, back in North Carolina, their little log cabin on the beach.  It had been the perfect size for her, with a loft and everything, but her mother got a job.  And that was the end of that.

            The house she lived in now, for a total of two days, seven hours, and forty-two minutes to date, was too prim for her.  The fancy furniture didn’t bring her happiness like it did her mother. 

            The spiral staircase was all she had in this house, the never-ending spiral that went both up and down forever, never straight and angular.  It gave the house its character, since all the pomp and circumstance took that away.

            “Mom?” she asked as she hit the bottom of the stairs.  “Mom, I’m ready!”

            She looked around for her mother, but the house was deserted.  The only sound came from the dishwasher in the kitchen.

            Just as Rose opened her mouth to call out again, she heard a car horn beeping.  A little yellow bug car horn…  “Yep, there she is,” Rose grumbled as she walked out the front door.

            She took out her front door key and locked up the humongous house and climbed into the little car.

            As she sat down, she turned down the dial on the radio and said, “You know, I could’ve driven myself like I did for all the rest of the fifty schools I’ve transferred to in the past five years.”

            She’d thought her mother would pick up on the sarcasm, but her mother smiled clueless back at her.

            “Why, then what kind of mother would I be?” she asked.  Rose groaned and turned to stare out the window.

            My mother, she thought.

            The rest of the drive went in silence, with Rose’s mother concentrating on the road, and Rose examining the new neighborhoods, a routine she was all too familiar with.

            Rose began to chew her perfectly manicured nails, courtesy of her mother’s friend who just happened to own a beauty parlor in almost every city they chose to live in.  Within five seconds, a hand reached out to smack Rose, and her hand fell into her lap in disgust.

            “Rose, do not bite your nails.  Bad habits must be stopped.  Now remember, dear, good posture, polite answers, and—”

            “—And don’t settle for anything less than my best.  Yeah, Mom, I know,” she interrupted.  “You kind of gave this exact speech less than a month ago.  Did you think I would forget it?”

            Rose could feel her patience wearing thin with her mother.  Nothing she did was ever good enough for her, and the feeling of inadequacy that was haunting Rose’s dreams was starting to eat away at her calmness.

            To make matters worse, Rose and her mother were never this close to each other and completely alone.  So the awkwardness of Rose freaking out just got ten times worse considering the fact that she was alone.

            Her mother’s face changed into a hard, emotionless mask, as she said, “Good girl.”

            Scowling out the window, Rose saw her new high school approaching.  Apparently Woodbrooke High School was supposed to be one of the most prestigious private schools in the nation.  Or so said her mother, anyway.

            Her mother.  Where to even start with a subject as complex as the female creature who brought life to her…

            The woman was so complex, so focused on the material parts of life that she continually missed out on her own daughter, who was just short of turning sixteen.  She lived her job like it was her life—which it tended to be most of the time, anyway—and her excessive skill at computer programming had her moving around constantly, dragging her innocent daughter along with her.

            If Lily Turnblast couldn’t do it…Well hell…Nobody could.

            Rose blinked in surprise when the car came to a stop.  She wanted to get up and run away in the other direction, but her muscles had her frozen in her seat.

            Come on, she told herself.  You’ve done this so many times already.  Just go.

            She determinedly picked up all her things and got out of the car quickly, darting to the main office building.  A grunt of annoyance left her mouth when she saw Lily walking no less than three feet behind her in her stiff business suit.

            “Mom, I can sign myself in, you know.  I’ll be fine on my own.  You should get back to work.”  She crossed her fingers, hoping her mother would realize the reality of the situation: that her daughter was in high school and needed to be left alone to acclimate to people her age.  Unfortunately, such was not the case.

            Her mother followed behind her without reacting in anyway, almost as though Rose had said nothing at all.

            In efforts to keep her mind off the images of herself strangling her mother, Rose looked around.  School hadn’t started yet, so there were several cliques of high school kids hanging out on the grounds.  There was a particular group that seemed to stand out t her.

            A group of guys was loitering near the soda machines, tossing a football back and forth.  Or at least they were trying to toss the football.  It kept hitting the dewy grass and kept taking out clods of school property.  One of the guys threw the ball and it finally got some air.  The only problem was…the unsuspecting target was Rose’s mother.

            Rose reacted quickly, lifting her arm effortlessly to catch the ball in her left hand.  The group of guys stared at her with open mouths.  Rose felt herself smile when one of them lost his gum.

            She felt her smile dissipate, however, when she remembered her mother was still standing behind her.  She didn’t even have to look to see the disapproving look on her mother’s face.  But instead of feeling guilty, she turned toward her mother boldly and said, “You know, you could use some more upper body strength.  Sitting at a computer all day has started to turn you into one.”

            Her mother’s answering look of shock made Rose smile as she turned back to the boys and threw the football back to them in a perfect spiral, letting it land with a soft “plop” on one of the boys’ bags in the grass.  She could still see their mouths ajar from her peripheral vision, which caused her smirk to grow even wider.

            She continued walking, but only made it a few steps when her smile disappeared.  There, sitting on a wooden bench with an open notebook in his lap and his faithful laptop by his side, was the most beautiful boy she’d ever seen.  He had so many things to do, but he wasn’t occupied with any of it.  He was busy looking at her with his soft brown eyes, so full of understanding and wisdom that Rose found herself unable to look away.

            “Come along, Rose,” her mother’s reedy voice pulled Rose’s gaze unwillingly away from the boy.  “We need to set up your classes.  Let’s go.”

            Rose followed against her will, and could not get the image of the brown-eyed boy out of her mind.  His face, the expression, the emotions that he had shown her in the two seconds she’d made eye contact with him…

            Something whispered to her, deep within her…a sensuous voice that she could not explain…and it was calling her to him.  A whisper in the dark, a deep rhythm that bound them together...Something that could not be explained, only accepted as true, until it was explained in due time…

            Her eyes fluttered when she thought of his brown eyes, the calming, down-to-earth personality he resonated from him like a prism refracting light.  As she endured the short wait in the office, she could not stop thinking about him.  Completely irrational thoughts coursed through her, emotions she could not explain were beginning to materialize inside her, and they kept her occupied while her mother waited beside her in the office.

            She finally took a minute to look around the office, and saw that there was a showcase off to the side of the secretary’s desk.  Inside the showcase were thousands of academic and athletic awards, from valedictorian to MVP.  She saw the valedictorian award and something about it seemed to call out to her, such an annoying concept that it drove her mad.

            Still off in her daze and visual exploration of the room, she hadn’t registered the fact that the man was talking to her.

            Now she knew why they had gone to this school out of the four in the area—why her mother thought it was the best…

            She felt another groan coming on when the man addressed her mother with one of the widest smiles ad shook her hand so hard it could have probably fallen off.

            “Well if it isn’t my own little Miss Turnblast!” he said enthusiastically.  “After all these years, you have come back to visit us again?!”  He was a fairly short man, with a lot of gut that hung over the belt at his waist that was about to break.  His hair made Rose want to die of laughter; his comb over made him look like one of those people who think they look cool, when in reality they look completely stupid.

            Rose chuckled when she looked at him, but he was listening to her mother and the words coming from her greedy little mouth.

            “Oh no,” Lily answered just as happily.  “Not to visit,” she corrected.  She put her hand on my shoulder and added, “I have come to enroll my daughter in your school.  Our school.  Rose, would you introduce yourself to your new principle?”

            The look her mother gave her was one of caution, one of appraisal, and one that just about devoured all that Rose had left of her patience deposit.

            Rose stood stock-still, her eyes gazing emotionlessly at her mother.  Her thoughts were running wild, and her mind was racing against itself in an endless circle that was gradually getting smaller and smaller until her mind just gave up.  She held out her hand and said, “Hw do you do?” but said no more.

            The man introduced himself as Mr. Harrison, and babbled on and on about the Honors Program, and this, that, and the other thing, and a bunch of pointless topics that Rose didn’t have the endurance to listen to.

            “Looks like we’re going to have another Turnblast valedictorian!”

            Lily smiled greedily and replied almost instantaneously, “I sure hope so.”

            Finally, the secretary interrupted them, giving Rose her schedule.  “Miss?  Rose Turnblast?  Yes, I have your schedule ready for you.”  Rose smiled grimly at her, and the secretary gave her a piteous, sympathetic look, almost like she could feel Rose’s pain and irritation.

            “Thanks so much,” she murmured to the secretary, and then she left without a backward glance, leaving her mother with the principal so she could gloat in peace.

            Homeroom was the first thing she needed to tackle on her list.  She pulled it out and held it in front of her like a badly disguised tourist and said, “Room 238…Mrs. Hancock…Oh, this should be fun…”

            She continued mumbling to herself until she reached the room.  She stopped hesitantly in front of the door, her hand just inches from the door knob.

            It didn’t help that she was late thanks to her chatty-Kathy mother and fat, plump principal; not to mention the fact that she was naked of a late pass because she had practically sprinted out of there to get away from her mother’s annoying voice.  She walked in without knocking at all, her shoulders squared with confidence.

            Every pair of eyes zoomed straight to her when she entered, but she ignored every pair…except one.  There was one pair of brown eyes that she didn’t mind having on her as she walked up to the teacher’s desk with timid, crimson cheeks.

            “Ummm, excuse me,” she said politely.  The teacher turned to look at her with a smile.

            “Yes, dearie?” she asked in a kind voice.  She had a deep Southern accent, and her blond hair was pulled into a tight bun near the top of her head.

            “Are you Mrs. Hancock?” Rose asked, her timid attitude evaporating quickly.

            “Yes, I am she,” the woman answered, absently touching her wedding ring.  Rose looked at her desk for a moment, and noticed that she had several pictures of a beautiful young boy scattered all over her desk.  Her mother had not even one picture of her, and the ones Rose took of them suddenly would disappear a few weeks later, never to be seen again.  “And you must be Rose,” Mrs. Hancock continued.  “God bless you child.  You’re mother did well.  We always thought your mother was too self-centered to care for a child, but here you are, living proof that we were mistaken.”

            Rose smiled, closing her eyes in happiness.  At least her efforts in life meant something to someone.

            “Well, welcome to my class, sweetie,” she said, and Rose looked at her again with a smile.  “You can have that empty seat right next to Gregory.  Greg, please make some sort of noise or something, so this young lady can recognize you.”

            Rose looked at all the guys in the classroom until her eyes came to the guy with an empty desk beside him.  His soft brown eye made her want to melt, and his laptop—sure enough—was sitting in an open PC bag on the floor.

            Before Rose could sit down, Greg stood up politely and said, “You’re that girl who threw the football.”

            It wasn’t a question, but Rose felt the need to acknowledge and answer him.

            “Why, yes.  Yes, I am.  And you are the boy with the laptop I saw this morning,” she answered back with a smile.

            He was reading her schedule over her shoulder when he froze, moving his eyes to look into hers.

            “You…you noticed…me?” he asked.

            Rose nodded and smiled again, finding it impossible to concentrate on her next class while she was in his presence.

            “Do you know where this room is?” she asked suddenly.  “I have that next period, and I’m totally lost.”

            Greg chuckled.  “I was looking at your schedule earlier.  I’m in all your classes except your study hall.  I have art that period, but all our other classes are the same.  You can stick with me.  No one will bother you.  So if you get lost…”

            There it was.  Another statement.  This boy just didn’t know how to ask questions.

            Rose sighed, but found herself smiling again as she said, “I’m not that new to this whole thing.”

            “Oh, really?” Greg asked in interest.

            “Yeah.  My mom’s job has me switching schools at least three times per school year,” she replied dismally.  At this piece of news Greg’s face fell.

            “Oh, I see,” he replied.

            “Hopefully this is our last move, though,” Rose said in efforts to perk him up.  “My mom got a really good job offer here that’s paying amazingly well.  So hopefully this is the last time.”

            He looked over at her, his brown eyes kind and gentle.

            “I hope so, too,” he said quietly.

            The hallways were packed with people, which was a little detail that Rose’s mother had conveniently forgotten to mention.  Some kid with acne and big glasses got shoved into a locker by one of the football players, and a group of girls started screaming like idiots when that same football player lifted a girl’s skirt above her waist.

            “Wow,” Rose spat.  “Talk about immaturity.”

            Greg laughed.  “You haven’t seen it at it’s finest until you’ve been to Woodbrooke.”

            Rose smiled mockingly back at him, the sarcasm thick like poison on her lips.

            “I’ve never seen this many people,” Rose said as they took a left turn into a slightly less populated hallway.  “All my other schools were legit private schools, so they had like maybe fifty in the senior class.”

            Greg looked at her with that same heart-freezing smirk on his face.  “You haven’t seen the half of it,” he muttered.  He took her hand and pulled her into a classroom.  “Well here we are,” he said grandly, opening his arms like a master of ceremonies, “Room 156.  Calculus.  There’s only seven people in this class—well, eight now, but you get the point—Most people in this school only make it to Pre-calc…if they’re lucky.  Sometimes we get some really big losers who are still stuck in Geometry their senior year.”

            “Eww,” Rose said.  “So does this mean we can sit wherever we want?”

            Greg smiled.  “That’s exactly what it means.”

            Rose picked the seat beside him and set down her books.  Since the school year was already halfway through, Rose found it quite easy to catch on.  She was already ahead of her Calculus class by three chapters, so she concentrated more on getting to know the school’s map.

            After she finished memorizing the layout of the school, she spent the last ten or so minutes of class staring out the window at a beautiful mountain.  It was actually rather close to the school, only about fifty miles or so.  Greg leaned over to her when he saw where her eyes were gazing.

            “You know, that mountain used to have snow on it.  But in the past couple years it’s kinda melted away.  But the news stations claimed nothing’s going to happen.  It’s supposedly dormant, but I’m too skeptical to believe that.”

            Rose made no motion or noise to acknowledge Greg, though se had heard him perfectly well and understood exactly what he had said.  An uneasy feeling was starting to fill her stomach, and a terror she had never felt before was chilling her bones.

            The rest of the school day passed like any day would.  Last period arrived, English III.  Rose came from her study hall and Greg from his art class.

            The two of them ran into each other in the crowded area of the school called the Triangle, which connected the three sections of the school together and formed a triangular courtyard in between them.  Greg was walking toward her, in the completely opposite direction of the rest of the traffic, holding a rose in his hand.

            They continued walking toward the English hallway until they reached the room, which was still deserted.  Only one other person was near their room, and it was just the creepy janitor, so they weren’t worried about anything.

            “I got something for you,” Greg said.  “You moved here just in time; it’s Valentine’s Day.”  He smiled.  “The school always sells teddy bears, and sweetheart candies, and roses.  So, here is a rose for my precious Rose.”

            Rose smiled at him and accepted the beautiful flower.

            “Well, I have to say you’ve done a good job,” she said commending him, “Because I hate teddy bears, and I despise those disgusting sweetheart candies.”  She giggled when Greg started laughing.  “But I did hear that you are a sucker for chocolates from Mrs. Hancock.  So…” she paused as she perused through her bag for something, “Here is a Hershey’s bar, just for helping me out today.”

            She laughed, but suddenly stopped, and the terrified feeling suddenly began to creep back into her, filling every crevice and niche of her soul and mind until she was all but paralyzed with fear.

            “What’s wrong?” she forced the words out.  “I’m sorry.  Did I say something?”

            She waited and waited, but Greg said nothing.  He was gazing down the long hallway and out the huge wall-length windows that looked out at the mountain.

            “Speak to me!” she cried, and tears began to pour from her eyes.  Greg said nothing; he merely grabbed Rose by the shoulders and spun her around toward the windows.  Rose felt the blood drain from her face, felt every feeling but the need to run from here and never turn back leave her body.

            She looked at the volcano and the rich stream of lava that was flowing down its sides and felt her joints lock in place.

            “Oh, my God…” she murmured, and she still felt Greg’s arms on her shoulders.  She turned to face him and said, “We need to get out of here.  Now.”

            Greg nodded without saying anything, his face a hard, emotionless mask.  Greg and Rose ran as fast as their legs could carry them until they made it back to the Triangle, where thousands of students were running around like wild animals.  Some were screaming and yelling, but most were praying out loud and wishing they could just go home.

            Mr. Harrison’s voice suddenly came on the loud speaker and said in a voice that sounded way too calm considering the situation, “Attention, students and staff.  This school is currently on lock down.  Please proceed to the safest areas of the school and await further instruction.”

            Greg flipped over a desk in irritation and anger.

            “Are you stupid?!  Don’t lock us in here!  We need to get out!  The lava’s gonna get in here!”

            Rose watched as he screamed, terrified.  She could do nothing save grasp the rose Greg had given her in her hand.  The thorns ripped at her skin and tore her hand apart as her fingers clutched harder and harder for the only thing she knew held true at that moment.  She needed to get out.  She needed to save Greg…He had been the one to accept her here for who she was.  She wasn’t about to let him die…

            The beautiful color of her scarlet blood seemed to mesmerize her as it dripped down the sides of her wrist and down onto the floor.  It was such a beautiful thing to her…How it could bind you to someone through faith and love, and yet how it could tear you apart from someone through greed and lust.  It had always fascinated her…

            She looked around in a daze and realized that she probably wasn’t going to make it out of this.  Rose Scarlet Turnblast would breathe her last breath in the lava bed, inhaling the molten rock beside Gregory, the boy who had brought her hope.

            She felt the terror consuming her, the fear immobilizing her, when Greg held out his hand.

            “Let’s get out of here.  Me and you.  We’ll get out of here and make it to safety.”

            She gazed into his soft brown eyes and nodded, holding out her other hand to grasp his.  In her right hand she securely grasped the rose, and a trail of crimson blood followed her where she went.

            Greg led her to a fire-escape that led to a huge network of ceiling tunnels.  They crawled around for what felt like hours, scratching and scraping their skin against the rusted metal and wood.  After a series of twists and turns that caused Rose’s anxiety to grow to its peak, they finally made it to the rooftop.

            Greg pulled Rose out of the tunnels and looked at her with a slight smile on his face.

            “We’re halfway there,” he said breathlessly.  He looked down and saw the lava already flowing at a steadily deadly rate into the courtyard.  The screams of the other students penetrated Rose’s mind, piercing her heart like rusted daggers.  Greg looked at her and saw the rose clutched in her hand, the blood pouring from her palm.  “Are you okay?” he suddenly asked, picking up her hand in his.  He tried to coax her fingers to release the bloody rose, but her fingers would not loosen.

            “Yeah, I’m fine,” she replied, completely ignoring her hand.  She was looking into Greg’s eyes until she averted her gaze, tilting her head to the ground as she continued to speak.  “You know, I like you.  You’re different.  You understand me…and you’ve…you’ve made me feel so amazing…You’re the only person who looks at me like I’m an actual person…”

            “That’s because you are,” he interrupted her.  “You’re a beautiful person.  And that’s why I like you, too.  You are the first to treat me this way.”

            Rose looked up at him and smiled.  His soft lips touched her forehead, and her eyes closed slowly as she memorized the feeling, letting it consume her in its mesmerizing pleasure.

            Greg cocked his head to the side, and Rose looked to where Greg had just turned.  A wheezing sound was coming from the vents they had just emerged from.  Greg positioned himself between Rose and the vents, his hands in tight fists at his sides.

            Mr. Harrison emerged from the hole in the roof seconds later, his eyes half-crazed in madness.

            “This is all your fault!” he shouted in insanity, pointing his fingers at Rose accusingly.  “This happened because of you!  You brought this here with you!  You did this!”  He continued screaming at Rose, who stood there, completely frozen within herself.

            Was this her fault?  Had she brought bad luck upon the people here?  Since this was her first chance at fitting in, had she made an ill wish before she’d given them a chance?  Had this been her doing?

            “You’ve brought bad luck to us!” Mr. Harrison screamed.  “You’re nothing like your mother at all!”

            Greg took a step forward.  “She isn’t supposed to be!” he shouted in Rose’s defense.  “Whatever the hell caused that volcano to wake up has nothing to do with her!  Rose is who she is, and if she tried to be exactly like her mother she would lose herself.  Go to hell, Mr. Harrison!”

            Mr. Harrison stared at Greg with his angry eyes.

            “I’ll take you there with me if that’s where I’m forced to go!” he screamed.  He lunged toward them and succeeded in tackling Greg to the ground.  Rose stood there motionless, watching them in terror as her joints froze over in fear.

            Greg caught Mr. Harrison’s throat in a choke hold, and Mr. Harrison conceded, letting his muscles go limp.

            Greg shoved his body away from his principal and stood up.  He walked over to Rose, who was still standing there motionless, her eyes swimming in a sea of confusion and tears.

            The lava was started to flow into the second floor windows now, and Greg and Rose were only feet from the edge of the roof.  It was too late when Rose reached out to stop Mr. Harrison from shoving Greg over the edge.

            “What the hell are you doing?” Rose finally shrieked.  She reached for Greg, the tears pouring down her face as she missed his hand by mere centimeters.  A sharp pain erupted from within her and she felt her legs rush forward as Greg’s body fell in slow motion.

            Mr. Harrison toppled over the edge after Greg, losing his balance from fatigue.  His greedy hands reached out for Rose, who backed away manically until her heels came in contact with the other edge of the roof.

            She stood there in shock for a few moments after Greg had fallen, the tears still pouring from her eyes.

            “No…” she suddenly murmured, clutching the rose in her hands.  Her dried blood began to spill afresh again, dying her hand a beautiful scarlet.  “No…no, no, no, no, no!”  She ran over to the other edge of the roof and peered over the side.  “Come back!” she screamed insanely.  “You can’t leave…please…”

            She felt herself backing away involuntarily, and the rose fell from her fingers, landing on the concrete at her feet.  She sat there on the rooftop, her arms hugging her knees, until she heard the helicopter wings beating against the sound barrier.

            “Miss?”

            She turned her heard emotionlessly toward the sound of the voice and stood up, walking mechanically toward them.  She boarded the helicopter without speaking a word, and they levitated in the air for quite some time, searching for any more survivors.

            Rose’s stomach clenched when she realized that there were no other survivors, and she felt the tears begin pouring again.  She gazed out the window near the hills that were now crusted with drying lava.  She couldn’t believe what she saw…

            A little boy, so small and innocent, was sitting upon a rock on the hill, his arms wrapped around his legs.  There was a bundle beside him, somewhat curled into a ball, and he had his hand upon it like it was an object of value.  His eyes impossibly met hers, and he smiled at her, touching the bundle with his other hand.

            Rose opened her mouth in disbelief and put her hand against the window.

            “Sir?” she said, speaking for the first time since…since…

            “Yes?” the helicopter driver answered.

            “I think I see someone over there.  There’s a rock over there and I think I see a little boy sitting on it,” she said.

            “Okay, hold on.  I’ll adjust course.  Where is he?”

            Rose turned around.  “He’s right…”

            She stopped speaking and gazed at the empty rock in disbelief.  The boy was gone…

            The helicopter driver shrugged and drove the helicopter away, while Rose stared back at the place where the little boy had been, and the bundle that he had with him.

            She might be leaving this god-forsaken school, but her heart was still there, a pile of ashes underneath the cooled molten rock.  She might be starting over…again…but her true beginning would always be here.  She might meet other people, but her only true friend was Greg, who now was resting under the coals…

            She looked away from the school and to the limitless sky beyond, where she thought she saw a ray of sunshine peeking out from the clouds.  She remembered the soft brown eyes and the kind, genuine smile, and she felt her lips curve into a smile of their own.  Because this wasn’t the end.  This was…the beginning.