"Of course Jack," Reinette countered, willing to share in his humor. "So many narrow hallways and dark corners in which to get lost in. Of course there was adventure."

And school. And children her own age. The one time in her life Reinette had truly been allowed her youth. She could still remember the letter she penned, after her first true bout with illness, going so far as to bed her mother to allow her to remain.

Some things could not be regained. But she knew Jack understood that as well.

"I would see it all, Jack," she allowed, still conscious of saying his name as much as possible. "If I could."

The conversation was interrupted by children and play and still she could herself laughing quietly despite the inelegance of it all. She reached for the ball and returned it to the child's hands.