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Farewell had been forced between them, the distance unbearable, neither knowing how the other was going through.
One was assumed dead.
The other could only hope that his childhood best friend was doing well, that she had been successful in her escaping and now was free to find Minerva and help all the cattle kids escaping the awful fate they had ahead.
They both wished their future would be as easy as the paper cups they built when younger.
They both wished that the string of the cups was infinitive and even surpassed the mortal realm so that not even death could break the bond that Norman and Emma shared.
Emma still taught the younger kids how to do the small toy that consisted of only two cups and one string but every time she was reminded of the original idea and the way that she couldn't communicate with Norman anymore.
No matter how many paper cups she did.
No matter how many greetings she sent to one cup.
She never once got his reply again.
On another plantation, to where Norman had been transferred, the story was similar.
He had been kept under extreme supervision, never once being able to free himself enough time to build one of the items that connected him to Emma, the last one he had seen being left on his luggage that Isabella had kept, his precious articles being burnt down with the house as he had later on known.
In the end, he had never the chance of confessing his feelings for the wild Emma, so many lost opportunities, so many untold words that would forever only be told to his side of the cups, the new one he had made after hiding himself under Minerva's name.
It was at the few times that he allowed himself to act as Norman, and not as William Minerva, the ultimate savior and guardian of all the defenseless children, that he would recall more vividly the moments he spent with Emma and Ray, occasionally whispering sweet nothings to the paper cup, to try to not lose his mind.
Then a miracle happened.
Even if Norman hoped and prayed that he would be able to see Emma once again, the feeling when seeing her finally in front of him made him forget all the time they had been apart.
They sat down on the floor, their back against the bed, as they watched the kids around them, play around. That was when Norman felt the string of the cup sitting next to him (one that Emma showed that she had done) being pulled.
"Moshi Mosh?" He could perfectly hear the girl sitting next to him whispering to the cup of the other side of the string, smiling gently as he picked up his own cup "Norman, are you there?"
"Yes, I'm here Emma."
"Welcome home." The sentence stated by the girl made Norman try his best to hold back his tears, instead, his free hand interlocked their fingers with the ginger-haired, feeling her grip tightening as well and the message was clear.
They reunited once again, connected by two paper cups and a string.