From the Journal of Lorraine Ellis

                                    

                                          
From the Journal of Lorraine Ellis
                          
November 10, 1923
                          
 
                          
 
                          
After a day of Jesse being here...I am still not used to it.  I have barely spoken, for fear of losing it - again - and crying in front of him.  Because every time I look at him, see that scar above his brow, I think of when they pulled him out of the hole, all crumbled and broken and bloody.  
                          
But I know I must not think of him that way now.  He is all smiles and laughter and kindness and...alive.
                          
Wesley told him about what happened after they pulled him out, my reaction to his death, and what had happened after.  That was when I had lost it, hearing how sorry he was that I had to go through what I did.  I could not take it, only holding his hand, and wrapped my arms around him in a fierce hug that was not appropriate for the middle of the Harvard grounds for all to see.  After I got control over myself again, he told me what happened.
                          
He had only been unconscious when they pulled him out.  They did not realize it until they had checked him over later that night.  They found him breathing on his own, though his heart had been beating barely enough to feel.  He did not wake up until three weeks after Father and I had left Paddon Manor, believing he was gone.  
                          
I wanted to be mad at him and Wesley for lying to me, but I could not.  Not when I had him back. 
                          
He goes by Warren Taylor now, a name he is still getting used to. 
                          
But he will always be Jesse Gordon to me. 
                          
My Jesse Gordon.