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Jesse P.O.V.

It's been years. Years since I've seen Winnie. Years of hoping, dreaming, wondering, if Winnie had drank from the Spring. Now I drove through Treegap, to the graveyard. I browsed through the many headstones, hoping I wouldn't see a particular one. There it was.

Winnifred Foster

1850-1867

A Good Daughter.

That's all they could write for Winnie? She was so much more than a Good Daughter. What the hell was that?

My anger melted into sadness as I read and reread the gravestone with my soul mate's name on it. 17. That was the year she was supposed to wait for me. I fumbled around my pockets until I found the small box I was looking for. I dug a little hole and buried the box in it. There was no use for that now.

"Jesse?"

A sweet, familiar voice called out to me.

"Winnie?" I choked.

"Jesse!" she cried," I knew you'd come for me!"

"I promised, didn't I?" I smiled.

She ran over and threw her arms around me.

"I missed you." she whispered against my chest.

"I missed you too."

She looked up at me and I pressed my lips to hers.