Dear Agni: This is your first trip home in many years. We hear you've gone into business for yourself, and both your father and I are delighted to hear it. But you left in such a hurry, and so much was left unsaid. Since you decided to pack so light, I went ahead and sent you your old things. I wrote what I wanted to say on the item list here. [Half a box of matches] You were three years old, trying to light a match the way the grown-ups do. You stuck the matchstick between your fingers. Your father rushed over, but you just giggled, waving your chubby little fists at him, and then the flame went out. [Worn-out lighter] Someone gave this to you one summer before the start of school. It was broken, but you managed to actually fix it in time for the new term. Your father tried to take it several times, but seeing the excited look on your face as you spun it between your fingertips, he couldn't bring himself to do it. [High-end lighter] You got it from Ashe before she went into the mines for the first time. You were about to go to high school in the city, and you didn't talk much with us anymore. We thought it was just a phase. But it wasn't until you came home for your eighteenth birthday that we learned Ashe had died in a mine accident and we realized we were wrong. You had a big fight with your father, and we knew things were more complicated than we'd thought. It's been over a decade since then. At first, your father thought he should pass you the family business, so even if you didn't connect with us, you could still manage it in your own way, do as you would... you could even sell it! More than a business, we wanted to be able to have a heart-to-heart talk with our daughter. But every time you two talked about it, you ended up fighting. And by the time you finished university, you'd lost all interest in talking to us. [Portable fire extinguisher] This was supposed to be your eighteenth birthday present. We felt something like a sense of surrender when we settled on it. You liked playing with fire, and were pretty good at it. We accepted that, and hoped you'd always remember to quench the flames. Now it seems like we had nothing to worry about there. When you came home this time, we could see you'd grown a lot. No longer the young girl full of thoughts she couldn't express. But when we asked about your business and whether you needed help... you just smiled and said everything was fine. Agni, we know how stubborn you are, and how persistent, but... at least tell us about your troubles, let us offer some advice. Even if we'd just sigh and cry together, it's still better than the way things are. We don't even know what you've been through. Your father can only smoke on the deck, and I'm stuck here... writing this letter. The reason I'm giving you this belated birthday gift is that I want to tell you that we respect your thoughts and wishes, and I hope you might... open up to us, every once in a while, won't you? Please write back. It would make me and your father so very happy, honest and truly. Love, Your Mother