Isabella = Italics

Isabella's mum = Normal Text

"Isabella?"

"Mum? Oh my gosh, it feels so long since we've last talked. How are you?"

"Good. Good. You sound...different."

"Really?"

There was a small laugh on the other end of the line. "Yeah. But it's...it's a good different. I just...it's been a while since you've sounded so...chirpy, I guess. Especially at...what time is it where you are?"

"Six in the morning."

"Especially at six in the morning. You never were a morning person. Not that I'm complaining or anything, but why exactly are you so happy at six in the morning?"

"I...I...I've just been in a really good mood recently."

"Really? Why's that?"

"I...I...for the first time since I...since the shooting, I feel like everything is going right for once."

"Let me guess, you met a boy."

"Uh...I...what? How did you know that?"

"It's a guess. As much as I wanted you to move on from this on your own, I had a feeling you'd need a helping hand and...well...in the movies all the people who end up helping others end up falling in love."

"I am not in love with him!"

"Not yet."

"Mum." Isabella whined, very much aware that Elliot could wake up any second and overhear her conversation. She had immediately arisen at the sound of her phone ringing and had slowly removed herself from his arms, not even bothering to question how they both ended up on the bed. She trusted him that way. But, seeing how his arms looked a little bit sad without anything to hold, she replaced herself with a pillow and watched with wry amusement as he curled around the soft object. Now, as she stood in the doorway of his room, watching him, she couldn't help but see how peaceful he looked.

"Is he handsome? Oh my goodness, have you gone on a date yet?"

"Yes mum, he is very handsome. And, no we haven't gone on a date yet. We only admitted that we liked each other last night."

"So that's why you're in such a good mood. Is he sweet?"

"No mum, he's horrible, that's why I like him so much."

"You know, I like this boy."

"What...why? You haven't even met him."

"I can tell he's good for you. It's in the way you speak, you have more confidence. Some of your old sarcasm. It's like...I'm finally getting a bit of my daughter back."

"Yeah...you know what, mum? I think he is good for me."

"Has anything else interesting happened since my last call?"

"Uh...yeah, actually. A lot has."

"Well, go on then."

"I...uh...I started up a blog."

"Really? What's it on?"

"Um...it's basically me talking about what...what happened at the...at the shooting and about Clark and...and how he was before...before he...he lost it."

"...honey, that's amazing. I am so, so proud of you. That is so, so brave."

"...it...it actually turns out that quite a few people are reading it...including some of my old friends from before...before it happened. Actually, last night Josie called me saying she had read it and how it inspired her and that...that she had actually had been having some serious problems and reading my blog sort of picked her out of the funk she was in. It...it made her want to go and get help."

"What...what do you mean by serious problems?"

"She...she was self-harming."

"...oh...well, did she get the help she needed?"

"I don't know. She said...she said that me being brave enough to do something like this made her think how she could be strong as well and...and she said she was going to try to but I...I don't know yet."

"Are you going to keep in touch with her?"

"I...I'll try. More than I have."

"What do you mean?"

"At...at first I refused to talk to her because it brought back too many memories."

"Oh...well...that's understandable, I guess. That's one of the reasons you moved to England."

"...yeah. But there's something else too. A...a sort of campaigning group approached me about my blog and wanted me to like...speak for them...or like show up to their meetings and help protests against guns in America and stuff like that."

"Wow! That sounds amazing. What are you thinking of doing about it?"

"I...I haven't responded yet but I...I definitely really want to. What do you think?"

"Go for it! But you...you do realize that they're based in America, right?"

"What do you mean?"

"They're American, changing America. That probably means that if you wanted to get properly involved with them then you'd have to...you know, be in America."

"..."

"Which is totally fine, I don't want to dishearten you or anything. Actually, see what they say, but maybe that wouldn't be such a bad idea. Because I...finish my time in the Marines soon and then we can both go back to America together and kind of...start again. I mean, see what they say first. I don't want to jump to conclusions or anything but it's...it's an idea, right?"

"..."

"Isabella?"

"...right. Look, mum, I've got to go...um...I've actually got to be somewhere so...uh...can we talk about this next time you call?"

"Yeah...yeah, of course, sweetheart. Take some time to think about it, yeah?"

"Yeah, of course."

"Alright then. Bye, sweetheart. I love you."

"I...love you too."