We’re watching the funeral from the car, parked far enough away that no one notices us. Seth sits beside me in silence, jaw clenched, eyes locked on the crowd. Elise is in the backseat next to Ryan, both of them quiet, both of them staring out the window like they don’t know how to be here either. Krueger’s head is in Ryan’s lap. Luna’s curled against Elise’s arm.
It’s Samantha’s friends and coworkers who organized the service. Her old nursing colleagues, a neighbor, the friend who briefly took in the kids when the cops showed up. They’re the ones who gave her this moment. A proper goodbye.
The drive back to the house feels off. Seth keeps his eyes on the road. One hand on the wheel, the other resting against his thigh, knuckles pale from how tight he’s holding himself together. His silence says more than anything he could say out loud.
I glance back.
Elise leans her forehead against the window, face turned away, her jaw clenched like she’s trying not to cry again. Ryan sits next to her, staring at nothing. It looks like no one’s blinked in twenty minutes.
I lean back against the seat and let the road pass.
My mind drifts to Travis. He’s finally stable. He woke up two days ago, still in pain, still hooked up to enough machines to terrify me, but he’s alive.
He’s not out of the woods. His body’s healing, but his soul’s been through the wringer with the rest of us. He can talk and sit up for short stretches. He cracked a joke yesterday about how he’s two and 0 for stabbings. I told him it wasn’t funny. He said it kind of was.
Travis isn’t just my friend. He’s my brother in every way that matters. The only family I had when I had nothing. The one person who never gave up on me, even when I didn’t know who I was anymore. Even when I didn’t want to be found. He’s the one person who made me believe there are still good people in this fucked up world.
And I’m not ready to lose him. Not now, not ever.
When we pull into the driveway, the kids are quiet. No one moves until Seth kills the engine.
Elise gets out first. Her cheeks are still streaked with dried tears, but she doesn’t wipe them away. Ryan follows, slower. He didn’t speak, didn’t look up. They pass us without saying a word.
Then Elise stops and turns.
Her mouth opens like she wants to say something, but no words come out. Instead, she walks straight up to Seth, and then throws her arms around him.
Sobs break loose like they’ve been waiting in her throat for hours. She buries her face in his chest and cries like it’s the only thing left she knows how to do.
Seth freezes. His eyes flick to me like he’s asking for instructions. I’m sure he’s never had to deal with a grieving teenage girl. I understood her pain more than she knows.
I nod.
He wraps his arms around her, slow and careful. He holds his little sister like she might shatter if he squeezes too tight.
From where I stand, I see it shift in him. His face tightens, his jaw locking as he looks down at her, and then the control cracks just enough. Tears slide down his face. He doesn’t wipe them away.
He just holds her tighter.
Ryan steps closer and wraps his arms around both of them. His head drops against Seth’s side. He doesn’t say anything, but I see the tears.
Three of them, tangled in a grief they didn’t choose, mourning the same woman from different lifetimes.
They didn’t grow up together, but they have each other now. None of them say it out loud. But they all lost their mother. They all gained a sibling. Maybe something like peace is possible.
Inside the house, Beau’s waiting with a laptop and a half-finished beer.
He looks up. “We need to talk.”
Seth and I drop onto the couch, the weight of the last few weeks hanging off our shoulders like soaked clothes.
“It’s never gonna be safe for you two unless we fake your deaths,” Beau says. “Right now, the government presumes you’re both dead. That’s good. Let’s make it official.”
Seth doesn’t speak. He just nods once.
“I got people,” Beau continues. “Family ties. They’ve got access to morgues. All we need are bodies close enough to pass for you, add some DNA, burn it in a car or a house. Fire’s the most efficient way to erase identity.”
Seth nods slowly. “Okay. Let’s do it.”
