[There is a long silence. Pel is good at silence, at letting time pass before she knows what to say. But it's especially hard now, when it's not something she did that stood out, but something she was. A person learning, a person thinking.

Her voice is choked when she finally replies. Her inhale is hard.]

I remembered the acorn when I decided you would deliver my baby. I thought...the way your hands treasured such a tiny bit of life, it made me realize I'd judged you at first. When I'd learned you were Anders, I judged you. I'd thought the choices you'd made must have been easier for you than they would have been for me. That was just arrogance. And it was arrogance to think I knew you just because of a thing you did. I had to think...I had to wonder whether that reverence for a sprouted acorn came before or after what you did. And I had to realize it didn't really matter because it's here now. When people judge you...when they judge you, it's them that has to grow and learn, not you.

You can visit your niece whenever you like. Hold her and take care of her and be with her, so she knows you and loves you the way I do.