Still attempting to lighten the mood?  I can't blame you for trying, but honestly Theo, you could ask me anything, and this is what you come up with? The month is almost half over.

I have hair like my mother's; I have my father's eyes; I have a scar on my left arm—but you've heard this all before.  What more do you want to know? I'm not sure how this is relevant or why you should care.

I wrote the above before really giving it any thought and after sulking here for a few minutes, I realize I owe you an apology. I've been telling you about my family for the past several days.  The thought of what they went through—it's difficult for me to switch to sunnier thoughts so suddenly. I feel like I survived a tsunami only to have you ask me the very next morning if I want to go hang out at the beach. 

Maybe you meant for your question to make me feel better, but you didn't really ask it lightly did you?  You have ice cream, you have tailored clothes, and you have a library filled with more books than one person could read in a lifetime. However, you have no friends; you aren't allowed to interact with people your own age—certainly not with girls!

It's natural to be curious. I know what you look like, after all. I'm not referring to when you were a ten year-old boy attending your first public event—I know what you look like now.  Or nearly now.  It's been over a year since my visits with Francesca ended, and only a little longer than that since I last saw you.  

I'd heard so much about you over the years, Theo. You were your mother's darling: smart, quiet, thoughtful.  I begged Francesca to let me meet you; she would never allow it.  It was far too dangerous, too much of a risk for all of us.  By rights of the childhood pact our mothers made, we belonged together—I felt it, and your mother felt it, too. What could we do, though?  Your father was always nearby, casting a shadow over us larger than the Tower's.

One afternoon, just after I had arrived for tea, your mother pulled me aside, her face pale. 

"I just found out Theo's teacher has gone home ill. He'll be coming through the courtyard and back to the family wing any minute." She grabbed my arm with her sweaty fingers and pulled me into a stairwell. "If my husband finds out how close you are to running into him, I don't know what he'll do."

She ushered me up the stairs and down a long hall. "Hide here!" She opened a door, and then pushed me into an ornately decorated sitting room. Brushing past a purple and silver plush settee, we moved into an equally lavish bedroom. "This is my sister-in-law's suite for her yearly visits.  Stay here until I come for you."

Without another word, Francesca slipped away, closing the door behind her. Even with its gaudy décor, the room was cheerless, bright daylight barely able to penetrate the heavy curtain.  I brushed the drapes aside and found myself looking out onto the courtyard.  A tingle of nerves shot up my spine and I snatched my hand away, letting the curtain fall back into place. 

Her words echoed in my head:  "He'll be coming through the courtyard." 

Was I too late?  Had you already passed through?  What if you'd seen me and wondered who that strange girl was silhouetted in the window?

Tentatively, I reached for the curtain again, this time creating the tiniest sliver of an opening.  There you were, having just arrived from the opposite side of the courtyard.  You sat down on the edge of the reflecting pool, disturbing its shimmering surface with a wave of your hand.

I watched you, hesitant to move from the window, unable to take my eyes off of the ripples you created in the pool.  I stood motionless until your mother appeared in the courtyard to walk you inside.  I hid in your aunt's suite until after you'd gone to bed; lingering thoughts of your handsome face filled the time until your mother's servant came and unceremoniously hurried me away from the family wing and from you.

We should have met the day we were born.  Yet, here we are, seventeen, and I've had little more than a glimpse of you, while you've not even had that much.

I know I didn't answer your question.  For now, I'll just have to look like whatever you imagine me to.