I at writing forewords, so I'll just insert some scenes from the story here.

When we were little, you dreamed of growing up and moving there.

I never told you, but I dreamed of going with you.

A little house by the sea.

A goat in the backyard.

Two little kids. One boy, one girl.

He’d pick on his little sister, and you’d run to the rescue, wrapping them up in your arms.

At night we would tuck them into their beds, and then go sit out on the porch.

Now that dream doesn’t belong to me.