When all was said and done, we'd lost seven members of our family. The terrain had proved tough for the settlers to fight in. The dust, the mud, the heat. They were not used to it. It took away their senses, their sight. As more of them fell, those that remained realized that this fight was not a definite win and they began to retreat.

We buried our dead and theirs while we tended to our wounded. It was only in the days after the attack that I realized it was a stray bullet, not a rock, that had cut through my leg.

My father had been severely injured and would probably never fully regain use of his left leg. But he was alive. We were alive.

Jakoby's mother had bled out, her wound irreparable. Edward was devastated. I was inconsolable. Jakoby was strangely the most calm of all of us. He told us that he understood that his mother made a sacrifice. That we should not mourn her, but celebrate what her sacrifice has given the village. What they'd all given us. A bit of themselves. We all had. And their sacrifices were not in vain. Although we knew that we would most likely face many more conflicts with the settlers, we had defended ourselves. We had fought. We had won.

The village was not without damage. It took us several weeks to rebuild, to regain our supplies. As time passed, we began to move on. Father made the decision to stay with us, although he began to venture back to the settlement after the dust had settled to meet with the people. He seemed optimistic about the future, about peace. I applauded him for his efforts and hoped one day I could see it with my own eyes. For now, I had decided to stay away from the settlement.

Edward recovered from his injuries and quickly went to work nursing others back to health. We were married in the village in a small ceremony underneath the stars and welcomed our son during one of the hottest days of the summer.

Edward and I vowed to teach him about the world and about nature. He would not see color, not black and white. He would see kindness. He would see compassion and humor and life. He would see it. The Africa that I used to dream about as a girl. And God, what a beautiful slice of heaven it was.

A/N: That's all she wrote. I did want to leave the epilogue a little generalized just in case I have time to do outtakes or something in the future.

I want to thank you for reading and coming along with me on this. There were a few bumps in the road, but this story held a special place in my heart and I'm so glad that you decided to keep it in yours too. I in no way shape or form claim to know all there is about Africa or pretend like I wrote a comprehensive tell all about what happened during the colonization of the continent. I write about things that I see as strong and beautiful and even a little broken and this was something that encompasses all that and more to me.

From here, I will be finishing The Girl in the Creek and then turning all of my efforts towards the publishing of my OF. If you'd like to stay up to date on that, visit my blog amandaleighbooks . wordpress . com

Have a wonderful night and thank you again!