• Delphine Emilia Chevalier was born on a bitterly cold night in November, birthed by her grandmother and a midwife who lived on a neighboring farm. There is no way for Emilia to remember the handful of precious months she spent under the careful and loving care of her mother, a young American ex-patriate, or her father, a French nationalist, in anything other than photographs. By the time the summer had begun to settle in, her parents had gone -- off to fight one social problem or another. Instead, her paternal grandparents, Marie and Emil, took up the mantle of raising her.
• Frustratingly curious about every aspect of the world, the little girl followed her grandparents -- and the miscellaneous strangers who seemed to flow in and out of their lives (and the family farm, converted to accomodate communal living) -- everywhere they went. Emil taught her to ride horses shortly after taking her first tottering steps, chasing after chickens. Delphine was six weeks past her fourth birthday, when her mother returned to the family farm, her belly swollen with a little boy -- a baby brother and a New Year were celebrated simultaneously.
• Looking back, the eight months Emilia was able to spend with her mother, prior to and after her little brother's birth, would impact her development more than anyone could have predicted at the time. It was during this time that she would learn, perhaps instinctually, that she and her brother, whom she was allowed to name David (DA-veed), were not something planned, or even wanted by their parents -- but, rather, they were side effects, living by-products of their parents' passion. The seeds of resentment were planted that summer, though Delphine learned quickly to adore the little boy who was left behind.
• She had learned at an early age to mask certain feelings from her grandparents; resentment and sorrow were swallowed down, and she soon found ways to expel or exorcise the emotions. It was her grandfather who first gave her a set of paint brushes and assorted paints. He created canvases for her, large and small, from cloth grain sacks and scrap lumber. Most of her compositions were abstract, swirling, sometimes jarring, fields of colour and motion -- given away as gifts or in exchange for something. It was the first time that she associated art with emotion and something greater than something asthetic.
• In the summer of her seventh year, Delphine watched as her grandfather collapsed in a field they were plowing. Suffering from a massive stroke, and subsequent heart attack, Emil was beyond help even as his granddaughter screamed herself hoarse for someone to help them. Refusing to leave him, even as his body grew cold, the little girl was found later in the evening after Delphine and Emil had not come to supper. It was the first time in her life that she experienced the concept most call 'grief'. While she had understood the general concept of death, this was the first time she had lost someone so close.
• Marie did her best to help her granddaughter through her grief, allowing her to isolate herself in her room, where she would paint, write, or read. David slept beside her most nights, the two of them curled up like seedlings in the soil. Delphine remained silent for several months, speaking only when absolutely necessary. It was simply a matter of having nothing to say that could convey her thoughts and feelings adequately; she had lost her father, her best friend, her soul mate. There were not words in her vocabulary to express the loss.
• The next several years was spent doing the best they could. Marie, Emilia, and David grew closer, and they opened the farm up to anyone willing to pull their own weight. They grew into a true community, working and living together much like their ancestors must have done. Emilia and David continued to receive their schooling in Saint-Etienne, each finding their respective places in their studies. Emilia was drawn to science and literature, while her brother did well with maths and enjoyed exploring nature. Eventually acheiving above-average marks on her baccalaureat exams, Emilia was most interested in the social sciences -- in learning how and why people did the things they do.
• The decision to attend university in England was a difficult one. Emilia's grandmother loathed the idea of her girl being so far away, as did her little brother. David was devestated by the decision, steeping himself in a weeks-long sulk over the summer before Em left for London. In the end, he softened and they spent her remaining time at home together. The move to London shook Emilia to her bones, in more ways than one. Enrolling into the Psychology programme at University College of London, she quickly adapted to academic life while navigating a brand new social scene.
• If asked, Emilia would cite meeting Callum Johnston as one of the milestones of her young life. A friend of a friend, Cal was handsome and charming, possessing a rakish quality which excited and intrigued Emilia in equal measure. In turn, Callum found her beautiful, intelligent and charming in her own right. The attraction was immediate and mutual, something neither could explain. The more they knew of one another, the more they wanted to know, the more they wanted to be together -- and by her second year at university, the pair had moved in together. Being young and in love, they were invincible -- nothing would part them.
• The first pregnancy caught them off guard; Emilia was barely eighteen, and they were both students. But it was clear that they both longed for a big, boisterous family, and decided that if fate was going to gift them with their first child, then they would find a way to make it work. When Emilia miscarried at fourteen weeks, the pair were devastated, but knew that they were young -- there would be time yet for babies. Six months later, they realised they were expecting once more -- the summer months allowing Emilia to rest and take her pregnancy in stride. Unfortunately, she barely made it into her second trimester before she miscarried for a second time. Em decided to spend the rest of her summer in France with her grandmother and brother, coaxing Callum into coming with her -- promising the fresh air and sunshine would do wonders for their broken hearts. By the following spring, she was pregnant for a third time, and everything seemed to be going well. Though it interferred with her studies, Emilia agreed to see an obstetrics specialist, who ran tests and monitored her pregnancy closely. The third time was not a charm, as it happened, and it was enough to break her irreversably.
• Callum did his best to reassure her that, if they simply took some time to focus on school and each other, they would focus sincerely on creating their family in a year or two. But he couldn't know that Emilia was already creating an exit plan; she couldn't shake the feeling that something was seriously, deeply wrong with her. It would take another six months before she considered seeing a fertility specialist. She went to multiple consultations, but ultimately chickened out -- wasn't it better not to know? In the spring, she finally mustered the courage to keep an appointment, and found out the truth -- for reasons beyond the specialist's comprehension, Emilia was not able to successfully carry a fetus to term. There were apologies, and half-hearted assurances that, perhaps, in time science might be able to give her some answers.
• Returning to her everyday life, Emilia felt as though she were a shell of the woman she'd been only a handful of weeks before. There would be no babies, perhaps ever, and she did her best to accept the realisation and bury those dreams somewhere deep within her. But she would soon realise that this was the least of her troubles. Emilia's mother tracked her down only a few weeks later, as if the last time she'd seen her daughter hadn't been nearly sixteen years prior. She explained that she'd been staying with Emilia's grandmother and brother, that she wanted Emilia to come home in the summer, so they could spend time together as a family. But it was too little, too late for a young woman who had essentially grown up without her mother. The poisionous words flowed out of Emilia easily, and she cursed her mother for the presumption that she wanted anything to do with her now. The older woman left, visably devestated, but Em couldn't find it inside herself to care.
• Three days later, a phone call came in the night -- Emilia's mother was dead. The specifics of her death were kept purposefully vague from anyone but immediate family, but the guilt Emilia felt was nearly palatable. She left Callum with little information, begging him not to come with her. The return to the Chevalier homestead was tepid at best, and Em was met with an angry teenager of a brother -- one who seemed to see into the core of the truth, blaming his older sister for their mother's untimely death. Returning to London, she allowed herself to draw inward, seeking solitude away from her friends and Callum. Her final year of university loomed in the immediate future, and the walls seemed to close in. Breaking up with Callum was sudden and a clean break. While wounded, he didn't stop her from leaving him, only asking that she write from time to time. She would remember his parting words like a curse: no one would ever love her like he did. Emilia decided that she was willing to take that chance.
• The last year of university seemed to pass by in a blur, though she earned top marks in her courses. Emilia began seeking psychiatric help to deal with the guilt and depression which followed her mother's death, and made plans to move to the United States for graduate school. Upon her acceptance to Columbia University, Emilia moved to New York