When Dorian and Maya were in Reading last April, Dave Griffith, a neighbor and friend, took several pictures of the children and the three of us together. The picture of Dorian, Maya, and myself on my balcony overlooking the Reading Abbey ruins is especially dear to me. Having had no contact with the children for months, as they would not respond to anything I would send them, I had the picture of the three of us enlarged, and I sent it to them in a cardboard tube. I added a letter to the effect that I could hardly wait to see them again this April, when they would be exactly a year older than in the picture. This was nearly a month ago, but I have not yet heard from Dorian and Maya. I cannot but feel that Lauren is behind this. Either she is not actively encouraging the children to keep in touch with me, which is perhaps necessary at their age, or she is actively discouraging any contact between us. One way or another, I now feel I have lost them. It will take years for them to realize what has happened and to make an effort to get in touch with me with or without their mother’s knowledge. As Dorian will be eleven in June, and Maya eight in October, we are talking about five years at least and ten at most. But we will be reunited, no matter what Lauren does or does not do. That I feel sure about. I must.