A memory sparks of about two years ago, a year before she had passed. Nana sitting in Gigi’s chair, staring out the window at the rain. I was in town visiting her, and she looked so sad. “What's wrong, Nana? You feeling okay?” “Yeah, baby, I’m fine. Nanas just tired.” “Why don t you lay down and rest?” A small, sad smile graced her lips. “Not that kind of tired, my love. But you’re right. I'll go lay down for a bit.” Another memory replaces that one of when I was about twelve years old. I was coloring at the kitchen island when I had asked her a seemingly innocent and random question. “Nana, if you won a million dollars, what would you buy?” “No money in the world could buy me what I truly want,” Nana says, a teasing grin on her face. “Well, what do you want?” Her smile drops, just for a second, too quick for my twelve-year-old brain to think much of it. “Peace, baby. All I want is peace.’ I I go to bed that night just a little drunk and even sadder. I miss Zade. He’s off doing something dangerous tonight—some dinner party. I know he's there to save a little girl, but there's still that selfish part of me that wishes he