Hannah was groggy and grumpy going to work the next morning. Walking among Dalen's streets, she thought to herself how noisy and sunny the day was, which she couldn't really enjoy with Alyssa's and Stefan's going away. She had tried to be brave for Macks, telling him they would be fine, but deep down, she was just as disappointed as he was. When it came right down to it, they weren't so different after all, were they?

"Hannah?"

She blinked, thinking she'd misheard. It was just carts and wives and workmen all around here. She didn't know any of these people.

Someone appeared in front of her, a man with a face she found familiar. "Hannah Iver," he said, beaming a smile. "Is that really you?

"Um ... "

"It's me. David Trent. Or have you forgotten all us Chell folk already?"

"No, no," she said, her mind clearing of its little haze. "David, gosh. It's good to see you."

"And you. I didn't think I'd actually run into you. There are so many people here in Dalen." He cleared his throat, gesturing behind him to an older woman who shared some of his features. "My aunt. She lives in the Copperside area."

"By the old mine."

"That's right." The older woman nodded, and David looked impressed.

"Spoken like a Dalener," he commented.

"So, you're here visiting?" Hannah asked him.

"Just for a few days. But I have been coming more and more lately. My aunt keeps encouraging us to come to Dalen to make a living for ourselves. Like you and your brother."

"I never meant to come here. My brother made that choice. I simply followed."

"But you seem to be doing well."

"I suppose," she said slowly.

"How long has it been now since you came to Dalen?"

"I suppose a year." A year! Had it really been that long?

"Any thoughts of coming back? Do you miss Chell? Your friends?"

"Of course. But I see them every once in a while. How is everyone? Do you have any news from the village? Have Kurt and Melanie had their baby?"

He paused, his eyes flickering. "Yes, but ... "

"But what?"

"Something happened."

Hannah went still, seeming not to hear all the noise around her anymore as she waited for him to go on.

"They lost the child about a week ago."

Lost. Like it were a toy or a piece of clothing, misplaced. "That can't be," she whispered.

"I'm afraid it's true."

"What happened?" she asked, her voice small and strained.

"I don't really know. I'm not close to the family, so I haven't heard very much."

"Why did no one tell me?" Hannah went, clenching her hands. "I have to get back to Chell, right away." She started to turn back, but then remembered Christopher. She'd have to go and tell him first.

"Hannah, if you like, I can go with you. I was meaning to head back soon."

"Alright," she said fuzzily. "But I want to leave this afternoon. Can you meet me by the bridge outside the city in an hour or so?"

He took a short glance at his aunt, then nodded. "Yes. I can."

"I must go. I'll see if I can get my brother along as well." She waved hastily to them, running ahead towards the tailor's.

This is so horrible, she thought as she raced through the streets. Poor Kurt. He must be devastated, he had been so happy about the child. Even she, who had lost her parents, couldn't imagine what grief it was to lose a child. She was worried about what kind of a state Kurt and Melanie must be in, but it didn't matter. She had to find them, and do whatever she could to help.

Within minutes, Hannah was at the tailor's. There were a few customers already in the store, a mother and her daughters being tended to by the women. No sign of Christopher though.

Hannah headed upstairs, knocking on the office door. "Come in," she heard his voice, and pushed her way inside.

Christopher and Judy were seated side-by-side at the small desk, discussing something, and for a moment, Hannah was struck. Even though there was no actual resemblance, they reminded her of Alyssa and Stefan.

"Hannah." Christopher cleared his throat, leaning aside in his chair. "Something the matter?"

She stopped, knowing how flustered she must look. "I'm sorry, Christopher. But if you remember, I once asked if I might return to Chell in order to visit some friends."

"Yes, I remember."

"I just received some bad news. I need to go back immediately - today if you would let me."

He stood up, and Judy looked concerned. "Is it serious?" she asked.

Hannah nodded stiffly. "I would rather not explain it now. I need to find my brother and start packing ... "

"Of course, Hannah," Christopher said kindly. "But is there anything we can do to help? Do you need any money?"

"No, no."

"You're sure?"

She nodded. "I promise I will be back soon."

"Three days," Christopher told her. "I believe that's fair."

"Yes. Of course. Thank you." With that, she turned on her heel, shutting the door and heading out of the tailor's. She didn't stop to explain what had happened to anyone else, including Ginia. Had she been too hasty, she wondered? Well, it didn't matter now. All she cared about was getting back to the village as soon as possible.

She walked briskly to the guard's station next, but she wasn't allowed inside. She gave her message to the men on guard, and went back to Magda's to gather her things together. It was now mid-morning, she saw, the sun beginning to scorch white.

She set a bag on her shoulder, walking downstairs. She was surprised to see her old friend Shelby standing in the main hall, arranging a boxful of books.

"Shelby," she called.

"Hannah!" the smaller girl gushed, coming to meet her. "I haven't seen you in ages. How are you?"

She did a grimace and a shrug. This was just not the time for chit-chat.

"Where are you off to with that?" Shelby asked, pointing at her pack.

"I'm going back to Chell."

Shelby's eyes leapt, until Hannah added, "For a visit."

"Oh. Are you alone?"

"I'm supposed to meet Rio on the bridge."

"Are you alright, Hannah? You seem a little ... out of sorts. I thought you'd be happy to be going home and seeing everyone."

"I would be, but I've heard that something bad has happened in the village."

"Oh, I'm sorry to hear that. Is someone ill?"

"Worse, from what I hear," she murmured.

"Someone has passed away?"

Hannah breathed in quietly, doing a nod.

"Someone you knew?"

She jolted at that. It should have been an ordinary question, but instead made Hannah realize even more the unfairness of it. No, she didn't know the lost child. But she should have. She regretted ever refusing to be godmother for Kurt and Melanie. Could this be some sort of punishment, to guilt her? She cleared her throat, nodding towards the door. "I'm sorry, I really need to be going."

"Wait, I have this errand to take care of," Shelby said, picking up her box. "We could walk out together."

Hannah said nothing, heading forward and holding the door open for Shelby.

"How long will you be away?" Shelby asked, as they stepped out into the sunlight. The itchy heat of it made her almost miss winter.

"Just a few days. I still have work."

"I suppose I won't be seeing Rio these few days then."

Hannah glanced over at the young girl. "No, I suppose not." She paused, just a moment. "Do you still see him?"

"Now and then."

"What do you two usually talk about?"

Shelby tilted her head, looking curious about her curiosity. "Lots of things. Mostly, he talks about the guard, and I talk about the church."

Hannah did a dry smile. "What different lives you two have."

"Indeed, but we get along, and that's what's most important, isn't it? If things were ... a little different, I think Rio and I could be very close."

Hannah kept quiet at first, knowing what she meant, and feeling sorry for her brother. "That doesn't seem very fair."

"Well, things are the way they are for a reason."

"Really? What about when people die? When children die?"

Shelby slowed and looked up at her, no doubt surprised. "Everyone dies, Hannah. Which only makes what we do with our lives even more important, even more precious."

Hannah frowned, running over the words in her head. What was she to do with her life then?

They came to the edge of the city, and Hannah nodded at the other girl. "I must go now. But thank you for walking with me."

"I will pray for you, Hannah. And your brother. Take care." She walked away, small but strong, and Hannah wondered if she ever felt lonely, if she ever regretted the life she'd chosen.

She headed in the opposite direction, coming out of Dalen's gates and stepping onto the broad, wooden bridge leading onto the mainland. It had been over an hour, and David Trent stood along the rail, gazing at the waves and rocks. But her brother was nowhere to be seen.

"Ready to go?" David asked as she approached.

"Have you not seen Rio?"

"No. Will he be coming?"

"I left a message for him at the station to come."

"Perhaps he's late. We'll wait awhile."

Hannah nodded, grateful for his patience. Unfortunately, the day was growing hotter and hotter, and after a quarter hour, Rio still hadn't shown.

Disappointed, Hannah suggested they start ahead without her brother. "He knows the way," she said, more for herself than for David. "I'm sure he'll turn up sooner or later."

David nodded without comment, taking the lead. He was quiet as they entered the trees, leaving her alone with her thoughts.

Hannah could still remember the day Kurt had asked her to be the child's godmother. And even though she had said no, she still had an awful sense of waste and loss. They could always try again, for sure, but it seemed such a stupid thought after all their patience and work had burned to nothing. It made her wonder - what if had been her? What if she were to ever lose a child? Could she survive something like that? "David?"

"Hmm?"

"Do you know how the Averys are coping after ... ?"

"They've mostly kept to themselves."

"Has anything like this ever happened before in our village?"

"Not that young, no."

"I don't know how I can be of help in something like this. I just feel like ... I have to be with them."

"You are very good, Hannah. Even though you are no longer in Chell, you still care about everyone, don't you?"

"Of course."

"You are a village girl at heart," he said, but the words made her frown. A village girl. She could never be anything more, no matter how long she stayed in Dalen, or any other city. She must not forget that.

They spotted Chell's gate, walking in together. Passing the river, they were spotted by some women and children, and Hannah instantly stiffened, remembering the very old rumors about her and David. She had just gone and revived them again for sure. But then, this was not the time to be worrying about such things.

She came to a stop not far from the Averys' house, nodding at her companion. "Thank you, David. I'm going to go see Tom Avery now."

"Alright," he said, giving her an encouraging nod before turning away.

Hannah went ahead by herself, glancing towards her old house, which looked mostly the same, except the windows and step were dirtier than she remembered. She held down her thoughts, focusing on getting to the Averys'.

She could see her father's old friend standing in the field, tying some tools together. She raised a hand to him, and he stopped in surprise. "Hannah."

"I just came into the village."

"By yourself? Where's Rio?"

"He should be on his way," she said, hoping it was true.

"Well. Well, that's good. It's good that you're here." He dropped the tools, a little heavily, coming round to meet her. "Come inside then."

He opened the door to the house, and she stepped inside, brushing the hair from her face. She could smell something from the kitchen - a strong, salty stew. She spotted Mrs. Avery in the kitchen, though her back was to Hannah.

"Look who's here," Tom called to his wife. "It's Hannah. Would you bring her some water?"

"Thank you," Hannah said, although the politeness made her uncomfortable.

"Here. Why don't you put your things down and sit?"

She lay her bag in a corner, but kept standing. She felt too tense to rest right now. She was waiting for Tom Avery to tell her the news, rather than she blurting out that she already knew.

Mrs. Avery appeared, handing out a glass a bit too jerkily that water sloshed onto their carpet. Neither she nor her husband seemed to notice.

"Thank you," Hannah said, accepting the drink.

"Excuse me," Mrs. Avery whispered, retreating into the kitchen.

Hannah stood still, not drinking. She raised her eyes slowly to the face of her father's old friend. "I've come at a bad time, haven't I?"

He stared at the floor, his expression beginning to break. "Sit down, Hannah," he said again.

"No. Please tell me what's wrong."

He blinked, and for a moment, she thought he was tearing. "It's Kurt and Melanie. The child - it ... it's gone."

Hannah said nothing, feeling cold all over again at the words. Now, she felt how real they were.

"I'm sorry, Hannah. Everything's just been all wrong."

"Kurt - is he alright?"

"He keeps to the house with Melanie. They haven't seen anyone in days."

"Then I can't see him?"

"He wouldn't talk to either his mother or me. So I do not think it a good idea."

Hannah cupped her mouth, her thoughts doing a wild dance. What could she do? How could she help?

"But I want you to stay with us all the same. It might be good for us to have some company."

She stopped, looking out the doors towards her old home. "I have to go over there," she decided.

"Hannah - "

"I have to try and talk to them at least." She set down her glass, moving past him. She half-expected him to stop her, but he didn't, hovering behind her in a hopeless daze.

Hannah marched across the ground, her heart pounding for not knowing what to expect. Tears? Anger? Silence? At once, she felt terrible for all the unkind thoughts she'd ever had towards Melanie. Even she must have loved that baby girl. She had carried that child for months only to lose her before she'd even gotten a year old.

Hannah's old house seemed like a fortress to her now, a slanting white place of refuge and protection, meant to keep people away. She walked past the posts, slowing at the familiar scent of soil. She thought of her father's grave in the back, where she used to hang the washing, and hoped it had been decently looked after. She walked up to the door, glancing at the windows. No sign of anything or anyone. She raised a hand, hesitating a moment, before doing a gentle knock.

She waited. No answer. No sound. Should she try again?

She stepped back, checking the windows once more. Nothing. She rounded the house, spotting the stones that marked her father's grave. Now however, there was a fresh set of stones next to it, laid with flowers and small toys. Hannah stopped, staring at the sight, while a breeze wrapped around the tree, seeming to whisper sad words among the leaves.

She stepped forward slightly, and noticed someone on her left, resting on the step with an eye on her. "Kurt," she murmured in surprise.

He stared up at her without speaking, his hands tucked inside his chest even though it was warm. His eyes looked lost, distant. She'd never seen him like that.

"Where's Melanie?"

"Inside."

"How ... is she?"

Slowly, he shook his head.

Hannah went over, crouching down in front of him. She found his hands, feeling their coldness, and pressed her fingers around his. "Please tell me what I can do for you."

"Nothing."

She thought for a while, a little unsure about her next question. "Will you let me inside?"

He pursed his lips together, considering. "Yes."

"Come then." She stood, gently coaxing him with her. She opened the back door, urging him inside.

She was saddened, but not surprised, to find the inside of the house a mess. The floors needed sweeping, there were dishes to be washed, and who knew what else. "Go," she told Kurt. "Stay with Melanie. Let her know I'm here. I don't want to scare her."

He nodded mutely, disappearing into one of the rooms - the one which had been her parents'. Hannah sighed, going into the hall. Much had been changed - Kurt had put in new shelves, carrying little ornaments and now-dead flowers, the furniture had been moved around, the curtains and cushions traded for new patterns. But at least her father's old rocking chair was still there. She touched the arm, struck by memories of him in it. Too much death in this house.

She spent the rest of the day cleaning and clearing, that it made her feel like a young girl again, like she'd never given up the house at all. It was only the occasional murmur or rustle from the main bedroom that reminded her, sobered her up again.

Unfortunately there wasn't much for food. The store had some dried fish, so she used that, steaming some porridge to go with it. At dusk, she knocked for Kurt and Melanie, asking them to come out for dinner. Kurt appeared, alone, saying that Melanie would only eat in her room.

"Alright." Hannah went along with it, pouring two bowls and handing them over.

"Thank you," he murmured to her, before slipping back inside. The door shut, and Hannah stared at the old wood, feeling quite alone right then. Why had her brother not come?

She ate some of her porridge, then went over to the Averys to check if he had come. But he had not.

"Hannah," Mrs. Avery came to speak to her, seeming anxious compared to that afternoon. "What's been going on?"

"Nothing. They're fine," she assured her. "Kurt's fine."

"They didn't say anything? Didn't ask for us?"

"No. They've been mostly in their room. They've not really spoken much to me."

"They must have said something."

"Come on," Tom Avery rested his hands on his wife's shoulders. "Let her go. Hannah knows what to do."

Quietly, Hannah picked up her bag, nodding at Fadden who sat grimly nearby. She returned to the house without anymore trouble, going to sleep in her old room. Except, it wasn't really her room anymore. The bed coverings were different and there were disgustingly pretty, hand-sewn curtains on the window. She took a step, feeling a ratty rug under her feet that she'd never seen before. There was also an unfamiliar chest along the far wall, brimming with some kind of junk - clothes, wooden blocks, dolls ...

This was to be the baby's room.

Hannah breathed in sharply, disturbed by the thought. Of course, it made sense. Her room was bigger and nearer to theirs.

She sank down into bed, trying to become comfortable. However strange this all was to her, she could not compare it to what Kurt and Melanie must be feeling. She only wished she could do more for them.