The sunlight streamed in the window, distorted and mixed by the wavy glass. Jacqueline rolled away from the light, trying to catch a few extra minutes of precious sleep. At least she didn't have three little boys in her bed like yesterday morning.
"Jacques, time to get up!" D'Artagnan called, banging on her door.
"I'm up, I'm up - D'Artagnan?" Jacqueline dressed quickly, not believing what she had heard. He sounded - normal this morning.
"Whoa, what's the big rush Jacques?" Siroc asked, righting the young woman who had run from her room. She had nearly tripped over him in her excitement and urgency to discover the truth.
"Siroc, is that really you? You're not a child anymore?" Jacqueline now stood eye to eye with the blond inventor.
"Well, I should hope I'm not a child anymore. Are you all right?" Siroc gave her a confused look. "Your voice is kind of - high. Are you coming down with something?"
Jacqueline's face gained a faint blush. In her excitement, she had forgotten to lower her voice. But, Siroc knew her secret, or at least, he had, as a child.
'Was it a dream?' She pondered. Obviously, Siroc didn't remember, and Ramon wore a similar face to Siroc's confused one.
"Maybe you should go back to bed," Ramon suggested.
"Just a second. Where is D'Artagnan?" Jacqueline took off, searching for her other comrade. She found him sitting in the dining hall, about to set out for his daily patrol
"Hello Jacques? What's up?" D'Artagnan gave her a slightly flirtatious smile. Jacqueline could care less, things were back to normal.
That night as she was going to bed, Jacqueline discovered a piece of paper on her bedside table. It simply read: We love you, your 'sons'.