"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry," Elliot kept on repeating as he ate the bread that Imedla prepared. "I never thought about going back here. I was so selfish. I'm sorry."
"Don't beat yourself up over it, my child," Imelda wrapped her arms around the boy. "You are our child after all."
Elliot nodded. "When my mother passed away, there was no one else that took me in because I was so weak. You made me work because I didn't want to owe you anything. Yet after everything, I forgot about you."
Imelda was silent. She sighed, "Elliot, I understood how busy you were. You were always in missions and sent in dangerous places. Don't worry about it, my dear."
"What if I didn't?" Ellio sniffed. "What if I just forgot about you because I'm a sad person?"
Imedla chuckled and took a book that has clippings of paper on each page. Some of the pages had newspaper headlines with Elliot's name on it, some had sketch of Elliot and his battle.
