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[center][h3]Wild at Heart, Loved by Papa. Always.[/h3]
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[hider=Somewhere You Feel Free][youtube]https://youtu.be/Kw8vBDk880k[/youtube][/hider]

The bundle lay atop Penelope’s stripped bed, still bound in its brown parcel paper by the twine. She had notions on opening it after she deposited her sheets for washing, not wanting to sleep with leaves another night, but here she sat twirling the loose end of the string between her thumb and forefinger. If she left it, even until after they departed, she wouldn’t be tempted to go back. Only thing that had led her there was that little rainbow pill. Wasn’t it?

It wasn’t that she didn’t want to see her father. Quite the opposite, in fact. That pill had certainly lowered her inhibitions - the whole point was to keep him, Helen, and the twins safe. Hafez had kept her sole-survivor status a secret, had sent her away under a fake name to keep it that way. But she never could burn her idents. That pull to go home, to get it over with. The half-baked plan to turn herself in…

It hadn’t triggered an Alliance alert, even when she registered as pilot of the China Doll. Hafez had said he was delighted to see her, not surprised. She hummed as she puzzled, reasoning out the figuring she was doing while she twirled that little string. It slipped the knot looser just so. 

All this unknown just because she hadn’t allowed herself to be curious. The fake ID Cal had made for her must’ve expunged her records for any alerts coming into Greenleaf, but something picked up her name for Hafez to not be surprised. Or, he was just being the model unflappable business minded man she knew he could present. 

But what mattered now was that her father knew she was alive. Knew she was on the planet. Knew not to take Abby up on the offer to come aboard. Penelope blinked back the tears, only noticing them as they misted along her skin. Her love for her father was so incredibly overwhelming that it was painful; the release of it breaking her resolve to leave the package unopened. 

[i]My Penelope,
I can’t express in words how it felt to discover you standing on our overgrown trail last night. I don’t think I would’ve if you hadn’t run. There’s been so many nights I find myself watching the foliage, hoping you’ll come through but then remembering that is impossible. But that isn’t the case. I’m sorry I reacted on instinct and chased after you. I didn’t believe it was you. Thought I’d missed a little too much sleep or had a little too much in my nightcap. After I made it home, I couldn’t sleep without knowing. Barely did even then, once I saw you were indeed a registered pilot for a ship docked on Greenleaf. You’re alive, and that is all that matters. Before I missed my chance since I don’t know how else to contact you, I wanted to let you know that you’ll always be able to come home. Not to stay, not if you don't want - but always if you want. Look at me, I'm rambling on my sixth attempt at writing this. I know you belong somewhere you feel free, so... No questions asked until you’re ready, if you’re ever ready. Being the selfish man I am, I just want to see my little girl’s face again. Love you forever and back again, Pen-nut.
-Dad[/i]

Warmth radiated from the silent tears streaming down her cheeks, a few droplets splashing the letter and causing the ink to blur, but Penelope was smiling. Pain and happiness combated within and had her near as giddy as the drug last night. It bubbled within and she was laughing, wiping away the tears as more spilled. 

Once she recovered, she looked at the items mentioned in the [i]PS: If you don’t make it home this time, I’ve brought a few things so you can take home with you.[/i] The wrapping of all the other items was Helen’s beautiful sarong she’d accidentally burned a hole through and caught hell for, even after she patched it (unsatisfactorily) and thus used it as her bedroom curtain. It had made her laugh when she’d first seen it, before she opened the letter. Pushing it aside, the massive dreamcatcher whose core was made from the forest lay atop the photo of her with her twin brothers - all three making silly faces up at the capturing lens above as they lay with their heads together for the shot. The frame itself was a joint effort of her brothers’ - cardboard and tape. Helen had said it was an eyesore, so it fit right in with the rest of Penelope’s room, but she loved it. The final piece had been the journal of pressed flowers her mother had kept. 

“Thank you, papa.” She said as she ran her hand over the stitched cover, swallowing back another bout of tears. It truly was like having her family and home right here in the room with her. He knew she wouldn’t stay if she did come home, but he did want her to have home with her where-ever she was, just like he’d said.