As Abbie and Crane enjoyed their cinnamon rolls and thick bacon, they heard their front door being slung open.

"I'm home!"

Crane shook his head, smiling. "I don't know why Nadia refuses to ring the doorbell or knock. She's likely to give us a heart attack if she keeps doing that."

Abbie giggled. "You should be used to it by now, old man."

"Not hardly."

She shook her head. "We're in the kitchen!"

Each time she saw Nadia, she looked more and more like Crane. Nadia's hair was curly like Abbie's but brown like Crane's. She wore her light brown eyes and plump mouth while her delicate height and cream skin resembled his.

"Hello, my lovely daughter." Crane kissed her on her forehead.

"Morning, dad. Morning, mama." She pecked Abbie on the cheek before she plopped down at the table to fix herself a plate.

Abbie tapped Nadia's fingers. "Hands."

She grinned and quickly went to go wash her hands in the kitchen sink. She held her palms out for her parents to see. "Better?"

Crane nodded. "At your age, I think you'd know how to wash-up for before a meal. We've taught you better than this."

As she took her seat, Nadia stuck out her tongue. "I guess I wasn't really paying attention, dad." She stole a piece of bacon off his plate.

Crane looked offended while Abbie just laughed. Nadia was something else. She also inherited Abbie's knack for swiping bits of food off a person's plate.

"How are my parents?"

"We're good. Happy to relax. How was work at the police station?"

"Good. I'm tired. Glad to be off my shift. I kicked ass today, I'll admit."

"Language," Crane said, as he added more bacon to his plate.

"Sorry." Nadia grinned.

"Your father and his propriety."

"Can't see how you married the old man. He can be so uptight."

Abbie laughed again while Crane grumbled over his plate.

"You should have seen him when you were born. He wouldn't even let you get on the swings at the playground."

"The swings, dad? Really?"

"Your mother isn't exaggerating."

Nadia was conceived in the schoolroom in '82; she's wild and 36 now. They wanted a child a year after they married at the pale courthouse but waited before they had one. They felt it was safer that way.

Their lives were a lot calmer now than when they were younger. People treated them horribly as a couple in those days. They were spit on, threatened, followed, and even physically assaulted at one point. But they remained together despite it. They took care to go to places they were mostly welcome and avoided going out at night. But even when they were cautious, things still happened. They withstood and are still withstanding.

When Nadia was born, they were worried about how she'd be perceived and how kids would treat her. Some days, she came home crying because children teased her about her appearance and her parents, but Abbie and Crane comforted her as best they could. Mrs. Ann and Mr. Sam helped to raise Nadia. They were her godparents, and she called Corbin Uncle C. Mrs. Ann and Mr. Sam passed a few years ago, along with Corbin, but they were still with them in spirit. Photos of them in the living room served as reminders of that.

As for Eric and Sarah, they were still around. Abbie and Crane met them for weekly lunch. Eric created his own accounting firm while Sarah wrote books for a living.

The doorbell chimed again, and Nadia ran the door. She came back in the kitchen with Jenny and Joe. Their son, Simon, was with them. They said their hellos and helped themselves to breakfast, too.

Jenny and Joe finally decided to marry a couple of years after Abbie and Crane. Abbie was happy for her sister and glad she let love in. Nadia and Simon were a handful together; they were such troublemakers, but they always defended and protected the other. They were like brother and sister. Jenny opened her own restaurant, which Joe helped her manage. Eric took care of their finances.

Abbie saved enough to officially purchase the entire two-story school building her and Crane used to meet in. She made it into a women's center, a non-profit. She taught girls and their mothers self-defense for free. It also doubled as a shelter if any woman and her children needed a place to stay.

Mrs. Ann bandaged wounds and cuts as the nurse on the weekends. Mr. Sam entertained everyone and ensured they had everything they needed. Jenny stuffed women silly with her meatloafs and pies. Crane designed a library that included an impressive women's section with an array of literature and reference materials. Corbin and Joe often donated sweets to the center for women to take home for birthdays or just because; they also spread the word about her center and helped her get more funding. Abbie never became a cop, but she did help the women in her community like she's always wanted to do. The women's center still thrived. With the proper help in place, Abbie could take her hands off it and rest during the week. She only showed up on weekends, special occasions, and emergencies.

"Hey, mom, dad, I want to hear a story," Nadia said.

"Which one?" Crane said.

"The one where you two met. Tell me about the strings."

Jenny rolled her eyes. "You've heard this one a thousand times."

"You even know it by heart," Simon said.

Joe defended her. "It never gets old in my opinion. I wouldn't mind hearing it again."

Jenny and Simon groaned because they knew they'd have to sit through the story for the 100th time. But they always ended up listening to it anyway and were near tears when it was over.

"Crane?" Abbe said.

She never minded retelling their past.

"Please, dad? It's my favorite one."

Crane took Abbie's hand and began to tell their story.

As Abbie gazed at her family, she thought about how far they've come. This wouldn't have been possible years ago, but it felt right. This was her life, and she was glad she met Crane and glad that he crossed the line.