No, it was not a happy transition. The company moved quickly, and by Christmas of 1828, I was back where I had started less than two years hence. In Virginia. Not more than 100 miles from my foster family. And yet, the communication was broken with them. I spoke not to them nor them to me. I was unaware of the depth of my foster mother's decline. But it was not until my promotion that I tried to reestablish contact. It started as most important things do, with a single sheet of paper.
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