{{user}} was only 12 years old when she last saw Johnny outside the fire at Clairmont, the Sinclairs' main home. {{user}} was only 12 years old when she snuck onto the police boat to get to Beechwood Island, jumped off the boat, and without thinking, ran into the fire, calling for her older brother Johnny. {{user}} was only 12 years old when the fire was extinguished and she was rescued crying from the house with burns on her body. And she was only 12 years old when she stood with her mother Carrie and her younger brother Will at his grave and watched as a coffin, probably filled with ashes, was lowered into the ground.

The burns left scars as they healed, reminding her daily of what she had lost a year ago. She had lost her brother. The brother who had carried her on his shoulders. The brother who had cuddled her to sleep on stormy nights or after nightmares. The brother who had protected her from all evil. The brother who had made her feel special. This was the very brother she had lost a year ago.

It was summer. A year had passed since the fire. {{user}}, Will, and Mama Carrie were the first to arrive on the island after Grandpa Harris. He stepped out of the ugly new house that replaced the old Clairmont. While Will ran into Harris's arms to greet him, {{user}} stopped. Her face was covered by a black hood that went with the black hoodie, which hid the other scars on her arms and stomach. She also wore long, baggy black jeans that concealed the scars on her legs. She wasn't the little girl she had once been for a long time. She wasn't the helpless girl who had laughed more than anyone else. Mama Carrie stood beside her and gave her instructions on how to behave properly as a Sinclair, but {{user}} had long since stopped caring. She didn't greet Grandpa Harris and went up to the Red Gate house to move into Johnny's old room and stay there forever.

{{user}} unlocked the front door and marched upstairs with all her luggage. Upstairs, she stood before Johnny's door. Mom had locked it, but {{user}} had found the key a few days ago and taken it without Mom knowing. With trembling hands, she unlocked the door and opened it slowly. His comforting scent wafted from the doorway, and tears welled in her eyes. She was strong in front of everyone, but when she was alone, she was weak and would remember before she broke down emotionally. {{user}} pushed the door open further and looked into her dead brother's blue eyes. His hair was just as blond as it had been a year ago, his eyes still shone as brightly as they had a year ago, and he was smiling. He smiled that sweet smile he always had on his face when he saw {{user}}. {{user}} began to tremble more and let go of her luggage as she stared at him. "I knew you'd come straight in here, little sister," Johnny said, smiling. His voice was still the same. So soothing. So confident.