"It must be nice to be so young," Reva O'Neil whispered looking down at her sleeping baby boy. "There's so much pain in the world...so much loss. Lucky for him, he'll grow up and this whole year won't even be a memory."

Josh poured a generous amount of amber liquid into a glass and handed it to her. From the moment he'd opened his eyes this morning, the moments of this day had seemed to creep by. Each hour going by slower than the last. "It's been a tough day for everyone," he sighed.

She turned, staring at him. Sometimes her own sadness could be so overwhelming that she forgot other people were hurting too. "I'm sorry," she whispered. "I know how much you'll miss him. This whole thing just seems like a nightmare."

"I wish it was darlin," he whispered, raising his own glass in the air. "This one's for you Billy," he managed before bringing the glass
to his lips and downing the contents in one quick gulp.

Lizzie paced nervously around the room. She'd always been uncomfortable with silence. In the Spaulding mansion, there was always something going on. When it got too quiet, something was wrong. Today was no different, she thought to herself as she glanced over at her mother-in-law sitting on the sofa.

Vanessa carefully smoothed the fringe on the throw pillow beside her. At least she could bring some semblance of order to one thing today. Nothing else made sense anymore. Her whole life she'd spent doing the things the right way, making the right choices. After her marriage to Matt ended, she wasn't sure she'd ever find love again. When she did, with Billy Lewis of all people, she'd been afraid to risk it. She was waiting for the right moment. She spent so much time waiting that she let almost all of them pass her by.

Bill allowed the door to swing shut behind him as he stepped quietly into the room. He hadn't known quite what to expect. Reva had told him the basics, but nothing really prepared him for this.

"Who is it? Who's there?" Jonathan Randall pushed himself up in the bed, turning his head in the direction of the noise. He hadn't been expecting visitors today.

"It's Bill...Bill Lewis," Bill replied, his voice halting awkwardly as he realized he had no idea what to say next. He reached over to pull the
small stool closer to the bed.

"Oh," Jonathan nodded, sitting silently before continuing, "I Uh...I didn't expect to see you today. I mean...I know the...the Uh..."

"Yeah...it was," Bill confirmed nodding his head out of habit. "It was today. It was good. It was nice. I wish you could have been
there."

"Me too," Jonathan replied sadly, reaching up to touch the gauze on his face. "I would have liked to say goodbye. He gave me a chance and that meant a lot to me. I hope he knew how much I appreciated that."

"I'm sure he did. He was good at that...knowing what people really thought...even without them having to say it."

Jonathan nodded. "Good," he whispered.

"Look" Bill began slowly. There was no good way o ask this. No way that sounded less insensitive. It was a terrible question and he knew it, but Jonathan was the only person that might be able to give him the answers he needed. If a few moments of awkward, painful conversation could tell him how his father spent the last few moments of his life, it was well worth it. "I came here today because I've been thinking a lot about the accident.". He stopped looking up at Jonathan.

His face was completely covered in gauze. There was no way to gauge his reaction. Bill took a deep breath and continued. "When the explosion happened, you were with him, right?"

Now it was Jonathan's turn to take a deep breath. He'd replayed those moments in his head hundreds of times. Maybe it was because it was so traumatic, maybe it was because everything happened so fast, or maybe, he realized finally letting the air escape his lungs, it was because those images might be the last things he would ever see.