For a moment, she didn't know what to do with herself. The school year was over, finished, completed.

For as long as she could remember, school had always been Hope's safe place. It was the one constant in her life that she could count on. She could wake up one morning and be unsure of the weather or what she was going to do with her life. But one thing was always for certain, and that was that she'd go to school.

Hope could only remember one day in the history of her life that the school was closed. She was in the seventh grade. It was December. They were in the middle of one of the worst snow storms that Meadow had ever experienced. There was ten inches of snow on the ground and a blizzard outside so bad you couldn't see more than five feet in front of you. The roads were terrible and accidents were happening everywhere. Hope woke up that morning and she knew: school would be cancelled. And that was the only time it ever was.

Aside from the fact that school was her only constant, Hope genuinely enjoyed school. She enjoyed the atmosphere, the people, the subjects. She was friendly with all of her teachers and everybody adored her. There was simply nothing to complain about. She looked forward to school, the everyday routine of it all. It was like a second home for her, and she felt the anxiety in her chest when she thought about the prospect of finishing. Now that she had completed the eleventh grade, there was only one year left. The thought alone was enough to put a damper on her day.

For a brief moment, sitting there in her room, Hope Chamberlain did not know what to do with herself. She had no homework to check off her to-do list, no assignments to brainstorm. No meetings with teachers after class, no volunteering in the art room. It was summertime now.

Fortunately for Hope, that moment of unrecognizable confusion was only temporarily. For as soon as the thought of finishing the school year was out of her mind, a new one had arisen: Church Camp.

Ah, yet another thing to keep Hope occupied at all hours of the day. Hope had been attending Meadow's Church Camp since she was a little girl. And then, two years ago, she became a counselor. At the end of last summer, she was promoted to Chief Counselor, which came with much more responsibilities, something that Hope thrived at. It meant planning every single meal, event, and campfire song. She would be in charge of choosing which bible verses' to read each morning. She would be able to sit in the kitchen and consult on which meals should be served on which days. She would be able to plan everything, right down to the nitty gritty details. She couldn't have been more excited.

For a girl that was always keeping herself busy, Hope didn't have many hobbies. Of course she enjoyed writing. And playing the piano from time to time. But when it came down to it, she couldn't think of an activity that she enjoyed with great passion and enthusiasm. She enjoyed everything, she would say. Swimming, biking, reading, quantum physics. Everything appealed to her. But was that ordinary? Everyone had passions. Everyone had that one thing that they were devoted to above all else. So what was hers?

Helping people. That was the only thing that Hope could think of. She loved helping people and devoted her life to it. She helped people every single day, in any way that she could. Whether it was helping someone with a small task, or organizing yet another fundraiser at the church, Hope was always brainstorming ways to make herself useful. She was, after all, going to be a doctor. What profession would be better suited for her? From a young age she was introduced to anatomy textbooks and acquainted with after-school tutors. Her parents wanted the best for their only daughter, so the best is what she got. Their dreams and aspirations for her were infinite. Shoot for the stars, her mother would say. You can do anything your heart desires.

Sometimes Hope questioned herself. Was this what she truly wanted? A life of constantly helping people, always seeking to please others. What about herself? What about what she wanted? But as soon as the thought entered her mind, she instantly regretted it. That was selfish of her. Of course this was what she wanted. She absolutely adored helping people. It was her calling. She wouldn't do it if she didn't truly enjoy it. And being a doctor would be wonderful. Yes, it was her parents dream, but it became her dream as well. And Hope would never disappoint her parents. Ever.

Matthew never once entertained the idea that this life might be too much for her. He never consulted with her, asking her what she wanted. He simply went with it, encouraging her along through life just as her parents did. But Hope couldn't blame him. She loved him – more than anything. He was just being a good boyfriend, supporting her in every way that he could. She longed for the day when they would wed and became husband and wife. Matthew would be a great husband. And a great father.

She wanted three children, Hope had decided. Two girls and a boy. Or maybe two boys and a girl. Perhaps four children would be better, that way she could have two boys and two girls. Nice and equal. But that wasn't how procreation worked. You couldn't just plan the sex of your baby. Either way, Hope wanted lots of children. Babies galore. More than anything, she wanted to be a mother.

Hope couldn't pinpoint the exact reasoning behind her strong desire to become a mother. Perhaps it was due to the fact that she had been raised by two great parents, and she simply wanted to have her turn to show the world just how amazing she could be as a parent. Maybe she was just inherently motherly and wanted a baby, like most women. Or perhaps it was because she was an only child, sole daughter to two people who had their fair share of loss. Baby number three to a womb that simply couldn't sustain. That was the trouble with childrearing, wasn't it? The uncertainty of it all. Hannah, Harper, and then finally, Hope. The light at the end of their tunnel. The shining certainty that for once, did not fail them. She was their hope and their Hope. The one that made it. Third time's a charm, her mother had said.

She possessed this subconscious need to live up to a certain expectation, to fulfil this role of the third daughter; the daughter who made it. Because who knows what Hannah and Harper could have been. They would forever remain a certain image in her parents mind. They would never grow or become anything other than a memory. But Hope could. She could do a whole lot more than grow. She could thrive. She could become something useful. And it was because of this expectation to be something – to never disappoint – that fueled her desire to help others and never let her parents down. It was a genetic predisposition that came without choice, imprinted on her for the rest of her life. She would always be this way.

But she didn't mind. In fact, Hope liked it. She liked it quite a lot.