His father in the breach had been fierce and certain, careful and gentle. But part of him expressed his own happiness less easily, always looking over his shoulder, always a little guilty for what he had been part of in a life he doesn't remember. He had loved Edwin so deeply, but he'd never felt entirely sure he had any right to keep what he'd stolen.

This Jedao has no such hesitation; and for him, it's been a few months, not two years. He doesn't have hours of existing in public, hearing Dad in the grocery store, at school, at bedtime, to make the impossible treasure also something normal. He breaks out into an irrepressible beaming smile.

"Hello, Sunshine."