He had offered to come with me to pick up Dana's headstone and it touched me deeply. I knew he hated the thought that I was conceding defeat, admitting that my daughter was gone, but he wouldn't let me face this alone. We had never met until the night Dana disappeared. In the terrible weeks that followed, my daughter's partner and I had come to rely on one another in a way that neither of us could have ever expected. He had been such an integral part of Dana's life that being with him was like getting back a part of her. I knew he sought me out for the same reason. In each other's company, we were somehow closer to Dana.

It was hot that morning and hazy in the wake of the previous night's storms, but there was an aching sweetness in the air. The green scent of late summer. This was Dana's favorite time of year when she was a child. By the end of summer she was always eager for fall and the start of school, counting down the days in the same way that other children looked forward to Christmas or their birthdays. A love of learning, a passion to *know*, had always driven her. Something she had in common with the sad young man who stood by my side.

They had had many things in common, but their differences were what made them special to each other. They balanced one another and filled in each other's hollow places in a way that defied classification. Partners, friends, soul mates... lovers? Probably not in any physical sense. Not then. But the bond between them was undeniable.

I had wanted to help him accept what my heart was telling me, that Dana was not coming back. The pain of clinging to hope was eating him alive. Dana would not have wanted him to suffer and I was determined to save him in her stead.

But when the headstone was placed before us on the counter, I realized there was nothing I could do for him. I had chosen the epitaph with him in mind. He of course was the friend it referred to, and he knew it. I could see it in his eyes as he turned quickly away. I believe that I heard his heart break.

I had never realized how much Fox needed my belief until I saw the aftermath of its absence. In letting go of my daughter, I had severed his last connection to her and he began to retreat inside himself to a place I could no longer reach. When she was found a few weeks later, I broke his heart again with my decision to withdraw life support. It was what Dana had wanted and he knew it, but the look of betrayal in his eyes haunts me. Especially now.

I never even knew Fox was missing until Walter Skinner called me from Fox's apartment last night and asked me to come to her. I found her huddled on the couch clutching Fox's leather jacket to her chest, her expression so reminiscent of the one Fox had worn that morning so long ago that it tore my heart. After she had cried herself to sleep in my arms, Walter took me aside and told me what had happened. All of it. He broke his promise to her by telling me about the baby, but he felt that keeping her secret would endanger both of their lives. He and I are the only ones who know and we will watch over her. For Fox. I know he would be pleased.

As I stand at my daughter's side, my gaze falls upon the cold granite marker that bears his name and I know that I can't allow myself to destroy her hope as I did his. Whatever it takes, I will keep her hope alive. For him and for the miracle their faith and love created.

I owe him that.

***

end