The warmth and cheer of the house were a welcome relief to the cold outside. We ate sandwiches and finger foods as we played games, laughing long into the night. Casimir joined us eventually, smiling politely but not speaking except when spoken to. I focused my attention on the other members of the party, happy for the distraction from the disappointment I felt over our conversation.

Is it wrong of me to want to know these things? I wondered briefly.

"Oh man, I am loving whatever you did to this mayo Casimir," Zola commented, finishing the last bite of her sandwich.

"Thanks," he replied with a soft smile.

"Is it time for presents?" Maayan asked, jumping up from their spot on the floor.

"Sure!" I responded, placing my plate on the table. Sunita went to grab it, but Azar beat her to it, picking up everyone's trash and carrying it to the kitchen. I was quickly surrounded by a small pile of gift bags and boxes, so I set myself to open them. Azar and Maayan had chipped in to get me some new paints and brushes. Sunita, always practical, gave me a gift certificate to my local bookstore since she knew I loved the place. I laughed when she told me they had to search very hard to find a gift certificate since not many people bought them. Zola's gift was the dress I had been admiring in her closet, which was deep green with kimono sleeves and tiny pleats on the skirt. I was shocked she remembered me admiring it.

"I saw you looking at it," she answered. "So I found one in your size, which wasn't easy since that dress is from two seasons ago."

"Thank you, I love it," I said, giving her a half hug. "I love all my gifts, thanks, guys."

"You didn't open Casimir's," Maayan said, pushing the heavy, flat box towards me.

"Oh, you're right," I said, glancing over at the young man. His eyes stayed firmly on the coffee table, a grim smile on his face. I reached over, pulling the box towards me, wondering what he could have possibly bought me. I opened it, pushing aside the layers of tissue paper protecting the object inside. It was a book, thick and heavy, bound in brown leather. It looked old, with faded gold scrollwork decorating the spine and edges. It reminded me of a book my parents would have had in their collection. I placed it carefully into my lap, examining the front cover. It was thick and indented in a square pattern. The center had a small stone, half white and half black, it almost appeared like a phase of the moon. The book seemed a little beat up with the edges with scuff marks on parts of the leather. I glanced up at Casimir, confused by his gift.

"What is it?" Zola asked, breaking the silence. I looked over at her, grateful for her question. As I did I caught sight of both Azar and Maayan's faces, which seemed slightly bewildered.

"It's a book," Casimir answered and I heard Zola scoff.

"No, really?" she replied sarcastically. "I mean, what kind of book?"

"It's beautiful," Sunita said, reaching out to gently touch the cover. "Is it some sort of religious text?"

"That, or a story of fables," Casimir answered. "It was from the culture Diana's parents were researching before they passed away."

I was shocked, my head whipping back to stare down at the book before me. "My parents?"

"I probably should have given this to you in private," he reasoned, gripping his hands together nervously.

"No, it's fine," I replied. "Everyone here knows about them." At some point or another, I told everyone a variation of what happened to my parents. Although the details of that day had long since faded from my memory, I was still sad when I thought about them. It was my blood that killed them, I thought darkly. I shook my head, willing myself to think of happier times.

"It seems very old," Sunita reasoned, her voice pulling me from my thoughts. "How did you find it?"

"Uncle George mentioned it to me," Casimir explained. "It was listed as a valuable in their will but unfortunately was one of the items your Aunt, er, stole after the accident."

I laughed bitterly at the thought of my Great Aunt Mary, who had only looked after me for a few weeks before dumping me in the foster care system. Which was just long enough to steal all of my parent's valuables before disappearing. My anger with my Aunt was replaced by a rush of affection for my adopted grandfather and everything he had done to help me.

"Please tell me she was super upset when you took this back from her," I begged, hugging the book closer to me.

Casimir still barely looked at me but he smiled as he replied. "Oh yeah, she was not happy."

"How did you get it back?" Zola asked, intrigued by the story now. She always loved a good tale of comeuppance. "I need to know if there were tears."

Azar and I chuckled at her words, I hoped there were tears as well.

"Well, I tried asking nicely," he began, pausing as he remembered. "Uncle George tried speaking to her as well. She claimed she didn't have it for a while."

"But she was lying?" Sunita chimed in, also curious.

"Oh yes, she was."

"Shocking," I said, snickering slightly.

"I can't believe she stole your book!" Maayan cried out.

"She stole a lot of things, Maya," I replied. "Well, anything she thought was valuable."

Maayan made a face, puffing out their cheeks in frustration. "That's just mean."

"So go on," Zola urged, staring at Casimir intently.

"Well, she tried to put it up for sale, but wasn't very smart about it," Casimir recalled. "We just had to prove it was the same book that was listed in the will and luckily not many exist so it wasn't hard."

"Ooooh," Zola cried out, laughing evilly. "How much trouble did she get in?"

"She was forced to return it after we proved it was the same item in question," he said, smiling. "She claimed she had no idea this wasn't her book."

"How far did that get her?" I asked, secretly hoping she had gone to jail.

"Well, we couldn't prove she stole it so once we got the book back she went on her way."

"Disappointing!" Zola cried out, slumping backward on the couch.

"Sorry," Casimir replied.

"At least she didn't get the money," Sunita reasoned.

"How much is this book worth?" I wondered, cracking open the cover. "Should I even be touching it with my bare hands?"

"Probably not," Zola said bluntly, "especially since you still have sandwich leftovers on your fingers."

I scoffed at her but still grabbed a paper napkin from the table to clean my hands a little more thoroughly.

"It's not that fragile," Casimir told us. "It seems like a more recent copy of an older text based on the glue binding and the age of the leather."

"Still, it's a nice memento," Sunita piped in.

"Thank you," I said simply, smiling shyly at Casimir. It meant a lot to me that he went to such trouble to get this piece of my parents' lives back to me.

"I didn't do that much," he replied, still staring down at the book. "But I'm glad I could get it back for you."

"Well, it makes our gifts look lame in comparison!" Zola grumbled. "Even if it is a book you can't even read. What is that writing?"

I focused my attention on the page I had randomly flipped open. The writing looked less like words and more like pictograms. There were drawings as well, simple thick stylistic lines depicting a woman floating above a crowd of people, their arms raised up in worship. I turned the page, wishing I could indeed read the text so I could get a better grasp on the story. After flipping through a few more pages I decided to close the book, not wanting to be rude to my party guests by reading.

"Sorry, I'll look at this later," I said, gently placing the book back in the box of tissues it came from. "Thanks again, it was really thoughtful of you."

Casimir nodded, seemingly embarrassed by my praise. The presents were carried into my room and we all got comfortable as we put on a movie to end the night. Grandpa returned as the credits were rolling, grabbing a few treats from the snack table before heading to bed. The rest of us decided to clean up and turn in, Sunita, Maayan, and Zola went to sleep in my room while Azar went to bunk with Casimir. As I lay in my bed, surrounded by my friend's love and affection I felt at peace. I only hoped my dreams would be peaceful ones that night.