Dragons? [she asks with a laugh. This is a fun exercise. Keeps her on her toes. She zaps that pinecone and realizes he does not at all mean dragons. His mother is alive. Which necessarily means his mother was not there for his upbringing, his formative years, his life. Everything that was important. She sobers quickly.]

I...used to say they didn't have a choice. But they did. And meeting them and then leaving was always torture. They loved me, but not as much as they loved...whatever it was that kept us apart. Tradition, the system, whatever it is. They had greater respect for that than for the sacred bond of parent and child. But I don't think they knew they had any other choice. I don't really know. Maybe I never forgave anything. I just started blaming something else. Myself, most of all.