The day was as bright as it was long. The little girl with red curls refused to let up. She wanted to get into everything. The picnic that was set up was only the start. The backyard was new and it needed exploring. Her hair was pulled back too tightly, in an attempt to keep her presentable for photo opportunities that would come. The usual and simple joys of having families meet up together and enjoy the other's company.

A bright dress was ignored by her, as everyone else gave their compliments. Little Sonja did not care. She wanted to get out and play. That's what days like this were meant for. Why did the adults not see things this way?

As everything was set up and taken into account, she hid in corners, ran around the house, and picked at what snacks she could reach. Her hair tie tugged at and tugged at until she was free of it. The pain would subside once it was all gone. The remains of it left under a table, hidden in the grass that no one would find. A war that had been won before she was found and taken for pictures.

Held in her mother's arms, the woman smiled, no longer caring what happened with her hair. It would not be tamed, no more than Sonja would be. Not a smile, but an odd look given to the man with the camera. He stood there trying to capture her attention more than the picture. Regardless of the situation, she just was not amused.

At the age of seventeen, it would be a photo she would hold onto. A life that she couldn't always remember but wanted to. Her mother had been someone she loved, much like the rest of her family. Her father, two younger brothers, and a life that she could only hold dreams of and imagine turning out differently. She would dream and pretend that they were able to attend her high school graduation. That her mother would cry and her brothers would call out her name when she walked across the stage. Her father wouldn't care for her joining the police force, but he would subside his issues and tell her how proud he was of his baby girl.

She was the soul survivor in an attack that should never have happened. Lives lost, stolen, in ways that she knew others would never be able to comprehend. It was a dark time and she needed hope, something to guide her through it all. Her own strength became her guiding light, as she had little to nothing to fall back upon.

Today, she is able to look upon this picture with a smile on her face. To believe that the woman there was where she drew her strength from. Not the sort that men believed in, but strength of heart and character. The ability to stand tall and show compassion and mercy where it was needed. To not turn the other cheek in face of your adversary. To show kindness and that sometimes hope will find a way.

Love was never her strong suit after losing her family. It felt more like a painful reminder of what she had lost, rather than what she could gain. But that was part of the grieving process and she still had so much left to learn, as well as feelings to explore.

Where others had failed, this was her closest friend. The one true confidant she knew that she could be herself around. There was no judgments, no worries, no questions. This was her sanctuary to be a woman, without feeling as if she were simply trapped in some man's world. Wine could flow, laughs could be had about anything and everything under the sun. Like-minded and the not so like-minded beliefs could be shared and sculpted into other ideals.

She felt like what she wanted to say was written all over her face. The way her thoughts so easily turned towards him, even in her presence. As if he hadn't been on her mind at work. Always during the little things. She felt as if she were back in grade school or maybe high school. A time where she did not always benefit or allow herself these sort of thoughts.

The conversations they had, everything held a flow. It felt like one of those moments she would have always believed to be unrealistic. As if she had known him from another time or place. That he just understood her and accepted her, feeling the same as she did. It didn't matter how she joked about looking like something out of a crime scene.

His ideas and thoughts led her to believe that their similarities and differences were something to hold onto. The sweetness in his comments, making her feel like she was floating on air. For as much as she wanted to, believed she needed to, she found herself trusting a perfect stranger. A man she had yet to have actually met outside of one dinner. Everything had moved so fast, and yet, he was the perfect gentleman. It felt as if words failed her, and when he kissed her cheek, something ignited in her.

Lips were on his in a heartbeat. That memory burned in her brain, craving a touch that was already there. One that gripped her heart and she wasn't entirely sure of why or how. He was the epitome of a nice guy. The kind that are always taken. She may not have had the words for it, but a blush crept across her face that had little to do with the wine.

Sonja wanted to know about everything there was to know about Edward. To learn about him in a way that one couldn't find hidden behind files and interrogations. She just had to figure out how to do that on her own. If only she could get beyond the way her cheeks hurt from smiling when they spoke or the way he made her legs feel like jelly over compliments. And the way her heart skipped at hearing him laugh. She was not some young college girl. She was a strong, fierce, thirty-two year old redheaded woman that could take on some of the worst of them. Yet, here she was acting like a school girl over a man. She was doomed.