For Isabel, news of her grandfathers death was less of a shock than discovering that, up until that point, he had still been alive in the first place. Quiet sobs gave way to grievous weeping as she realized her last living relative, who could of come for her at any time, was now gone.

June held her dutifully while assuring her everything would be alright and carried the small girl up the stairs to lay her down in bed. She stroked Isabel's blond curly hair from her red, wet cheeks and examined the girls face. Her lips quivered with a sigh of sadness and Isabel's eyes held a hopeless stare. June felt a pity deep in her gut, as if being pulled from the inside away from the girl.

Isabel was orphaned two years past and her only remaining relative appeared to be her maternal grandfather whom she'd never met. In fact, no one in town, her parents included has seen Joseph Coolan in ten years. There were doubts that he was even still alive but her mother assured her that her grandfather always got around and was probably perfectly healthy and likely responsible for the destabilized government of what ever country happened to be on the news that day.

Memories of her parents funeral were blurred by hot tears. She had stood by her fathers casket where his body rest, clad in a suit and cold to the touch. Her mothers casket was behind her with a picture and reef in front of it. The fire wasn't kind to her beauty and so her casket was closed. The faces of strangers passed by and offered their condolences for the little girl. Some of them wept while others only stared somberly, imagining themselves seated in their very own coffin some day.

June met Isabel that day as she was issued to take her into foster care until her grandfather could be contacted. Not it seemed that day would never come.

In the time she'd spent taking care of Isabel, June had grown accustom to her modest presences in the house so when it was time for her to go into a foster home, she petitioned to have custody instead. Knowing the ins and outs of social work, and the county clerks who handled the proceedings would make the legal process simple. The difficult part was asking Isabel if that was what she would want.

Isabel had lived with her for two years already but all the while she had looked for the shadows of her parents. Under her bed was a binder with newspaper clippings she had gotten from the library archives. One of them read:

Patrica Coolan and Andrew Portsman of Winter, Wisconsin were married Oct. 17, 1999 at Wedding Canyon, Illinois with Kyle Herbert officiating.

The bride is the daughter of Joseph and Mary Coolan of Breesaw, Minnesota, and the groom is the son of Michale and Susan Portsman of Birchwood, Wisconsin..

A reception was held at The Livery of Eau Claire.

A smudged black hand and foot print on another sheet of paper flanked her parents signatures. Another clipping was a police report about a one car accident. The name of the driver was omitted but Isabel remembers visiting her father the next day at the hospital, his arm in a cast and one eye highlighted black and purple.

(Well crap, I ran out of time for now. Maybe I'll be able to get back to it and actually make it to the part of the prompt XD).