Alone with nothing to distract me, my denial seems like a safe place to reside. Maybe this is some kind of sick joke, and I'll walk into the house, and there will be a big party. My dad and Nonna miss me so much, and they wanted to do something crazy. They'll be standing in the kitchen laughing at me. I'll call them jerks and pull Nonna into my arms for the tightest hug ever. It will be her way of teaching me how important she is to me.

But my loved ones know how much she means to me, and they'd never do something like that.

The truth hits me hard—Nonna is gone.

How did I not know something was wrong? Our bond is so tight; I should feel that she's no longer on this earth. Why did I let Dad send me away for the summer? I gave up my last chances to be with her. I still had so much to learn. How am I ever going to figure out life without her and her confusing words of wisdom? She's my compass. How will I find my way without her? Each question racing through my mind leaves me with a gaping hole that vastly grows by the second.

Four hours later, I stumble into the house, dropping my carry-on bag next to Nicky's on the floor. The only light comes from the kitchen where male voices murmur.

Dad and Nicky sit on their bar stools at the counter with cups of coffee in their hands. It's a picture I've seen hundreds of times, but it's not right. The bright mustard paint on the walls is dull, and the welcoming feeling is missing. The planets are not aligned to the sun correctly, and the earth's axis has shifted, turning north to south and south to north. This is a bad dream that I need to wake up from.

Even my dad doesn't look the same. There's a distraught look in his eyes—the same look he used to wear, but it faded over the years. It's the emptiness left when the one person who filled a vacant space in your soul vanishes from this life. There's a hole that sits wide open never to be occupied the same way again. We will try to minimize the gap with the hope of one day being together again, but our faith is tested when we can't prove it to be an absolute truth. It's the emptiness that consumed my dad the day my mom died.

Dad pulls me into his arms, and it is too much. The longing for this to be just a dream comes crashing to a halt inside his real embrace, and the anguish I've smothered for the past hours roars to life. I hold him tight and my tears soak into his shirt. My hands ball into fists as I contain the overwhelming need to yell, fight, and break something.

We stand in the middle of the kitchen for what feels like hours. Nicky remains in his seat with his hands around his coffee mug; his knuckles turning white from his hard grip on it, and his disheveled hair falls across his forehead as he looks into the depths of his cold drink. I keep my eyes on the back door, waiting for Nonna to walk in and offer to make us a late dinner. It doesn't happen.

When I have myself somewhat composed, I pour a cup of coffee and add too much sugar and creamer before sitting on the third stool at the counter.

"What happened?" I ask with a shaky voice.

"She's been sick for a while, A.J.," Dad says, his hoarse voice laced with regret.

"What do you mean she's been sick for a while?" I glance at Nicky who's hunched over his cup with tears streaming down his face before turning back to Dad.

He doesn't meet my gaze as he says, "She didn't want you guys to know, so she made me promise not to say anything. She wanted you both to live your lives and not worry about her."

My fury wins the emotional battle raging inside of me. I stand and kick the chair, knocking it over. "She shouldn't have made that call, and you shouldn't have let her!"

"A.J.," my brother warns.

"No, Nicky." My voice echoes through the kitchen at a high pitch screech. "You let her talk you into sending me away for the summer. I didn't get to say goodbye. There were things she was supposed to help me sort through, and you and she denied me that."

Dad's face contorts with the most profound pain, and I can't stand it; I don't want to hurt him. Yet, I feel so robbed like I'm grasping at nothing more than thin air for any small piece of her I can get. I need out of this house. Grabbing the spare set of keys to her cottage off the hook by the back door, I run out.

"Ariella, wait!" Dad yells.

The trees in the woods pass by in a blur, and my feet are unsteady jumping over branches and rocks along the path. I trip over a root, slamming to the ground and skinning my palms, but it doesn't slow me down. My need to be close to her has me scrambling to my feet.

I run up the front porch, swing open the screen door, and stop. Something isn't right, but I'm unable to figure it out. I insert the key into the lock, push the door open, and turn on the light.

Everything is different.

The entire house is no longer decorated in the well-worn furnishings which make it Nonna's. There are a plush gray couch and a flat-screen television over the fireplace. Large black and white paintings of exotic flowers hang from the walls. The cottage looks like a gimmicky interior designer attacked it. I hate it! Grabbing a vase filled with white flowers from an accent table, I throw it to the ground.

I charge down the hall and open her bedroom; nothing's the same here either. Rushing toward the kitchen, I come to a stop and scream. The appliances have changed to stainless steel, but the color scheme is the same. It flows with the rest of the house but maintains an Italian feel. I sweep my arm over the countertop and an array of cooking utensils crash to the floor.

She's gone.

I sink to the ground and lean back on the cabinets. Nicky and Dad walk into the room, worry written all over their faces.

Tears stream down my cheeks as I ask, "What did you guys do? It's like you've erased her, like she never existed here."

My brother picks an envelope up from the floor and hands it to me. Nonna's handwriting has beautifully addressed the letter inside to Mia Nipotina, Ariella. I press it to my chest and stand.

I don't want to be here, and I most definitely don't want to see my dad right now. It's not fair to him, but there's no way he feels even a fraction of the pain I do. He got to say his goodbye; he got to keep her final secret.

"I just need some time to myself," I say in a monotone.

I'm numb walking to the front door and leaving them behind. Cutting through the thick foliage of trees and shrubs, I travel back to the hammock hanging between two Redwood trees. My tears make everything hazy, but this has been my safe haven for the last four years. I could find my way on the darkest of nights.

I sit sideways in the hammock, rocking back and forth. The moon has found its way to an opening in the tree canopy and shines on me. It sheds just enough light so I can read the envelope in my hands. I feel like it's her way of guiding me to her final words—the last piece of guidance from the woman who's been here for me through my darkest hours.

I want to make it last and not let her go just yet, but I also need to know why she didn't allow me to share her last days with her. My hands shake while lifting the flap, and I ease out the paper inside. I smile at her slanted cursive and read.

My dearest Ariella James,

I know you must feel very alone and robbed of time with me. This was never my intention. Since the day you were born, I have loved you more than life itself. There has never been a limit to the things I would do for you. This is why I did not selfishly keep you with me as I diminished from this life. Although you may disagree, the time we had together was enough. It was just as it was meant to be.

Even if you do not believe it is true, I have given you all you need for your journey through life. There is no more for me to teach you. All the life lessons I know I have passed on for you to approve upon and make your own. I pray one day you will realize this when you are confused and lost, and the answer clearly comes to you in my voice.

I have left you with my home, our home. The place we have cooked meals for our loved ones, spent countless hours getting to know each other, and grown to love one another more and more every day. Do not be angry at me for the changes I have made. This is your home now. It is a place for you to remember me but not to mourn me. You must make your own treasured memories here with new stories to pass on to your granddaughter one day.

Your life has been filled with some of the worst heartaches, but I promise you the best moments are yet to come. You are destined for a great love of your life. A better love story than mine and that of your parents. Yours will be a love story which is meant to be recounted in books and envied by all who hear it.

No moment in this life is for naught, my sweet nipotina. Every second, of every day, is just as it is supposed to be.

Live your life with the reassurance that I have been reunited with the love of my life. I celebrate the life I lived with your grandfather and your mother. I have missed them both deeply, and I am at peace knowing at the end of your long journey you will join us for eternity.

No distance, not land or sea, not sun or moon, and not this realm or the next can cease the love I have for you.

Forever and ever I love you, mia nipotina.

Nonna

I lie back on the hammock, clenching the letter to my heart as endless tears flow down my face. All-knowing is what she was until the end. She planned everything just the way she wanted. I can't find it in me to be mad at her. This was her dying wish. She wanted to leave me with beautiful memories and not the anguish of watching her die. I didn't need to be there to hold her hand or brush the hair from her face as she took her last breath; it would have brought her more pain than happiness. I don't know if I'll ever understand why she wanted it to be like this, but I love her for keeping me at the forefront of her thoughts, even as she wished this world farewell.

Looking up at the stars, I'm sure she sits right above me looking down. The brightest one must be her; there's no way anyone else could shine like that. I keep my tear-filled eyes on her until they grow heavy and sleep comes to claim me.