"So according to your mom and dad's will, you'll be staying in Paris with you mother's mother." He said. He was my parents' lawyer and even though it was more than a week after my mama and Papa's death, I wasn't ready to face the possibilities of leaving Provence. "I know this is hard for you, but is a chance for new life in Paris! Chin up, girl! The plane leaves in 12 hours, plenty of time to get your valuables packed and ready for the heart of France!" He exclaimed. I stared blankly at him, blinked, and stood. He stood to and led me into the lobby. "Get ready to meet your grandmother! I heard she is a famous tailor and designer, almost on the level of Gabriel Agreste ! Must be pretty exciting, eh?" He continued. Inside, I didn't want to meet my fashionista granny, I wanted to curl up like a fetus and hurl my sorrows in to my pillow. 

         12 hours later....

     On the plane, the lawyer, Sanjay, continued to blab about crap I didn't care about , like his wife and the last time he was in Paris. The plane food traveled down my throat like a snake, but something in me still felt ....hollow. Like a tree, beautiful and thick on the outside, but hollow and filled with darkness on the inside. Or at least, a dead tree. While Sanjay talked, opened the blinds of the window and stared at the fluffy white clouds outside. I could just eat them......

       When we reached the the house, Grandma(can I even call her that?) stood outside of it. Well, calling it a house is an understatement. It was more like a small mansion. It was minimalistic to a T and had greenery surrounding it. Fountains spewed water from there bows and hands, staring at me like I was the statue. It was as unnerving as it was entrancing. "Hello Rosaline." she said, and embraced me. I stiffened at her strong arms. I forgot what it was like to have an un-awkward hug with someone.  It felt.....ok. "Let's get inside, I already have chamomile on the stove. I hope you like tea!"she exclaimed. 

    THE NEXT WEEK...

     "Rosie darling, get up. School is starting and being fashionably late is not a good look for a new kid. I need to be heading to the workshop, but I made breakfast. It's on the table. " Grandma said. It still amazed me how much I had recovered since....well..... you know. Grandma healed me with her chamomile tea and bakery pastries. It saved me, you know. Now I actually normal, like I could get better. But for now, I'm not going to focus on the hollowness inside me. It was time for school.

      As I walked to school, I people watched. One skater chick, a girl waiting for the morning bus, an old man about to get hit by a car, an ice cream truck.... Wait a second. I look back and saw the short Chinese man in a floral red shirt reach for his cane in the middle of the street. "Dang it." I whispered. 

     I lunged into the street and time seemed to slow. But I didn't. My hands grasped the wooden cane and pushed it into the feeble hands of the man. I hoisted him up and felt the bright screech of the car attempting to stop. "NOOOOOO-"