Author's Note: This story takes place directly after the events of Castaway Children.
The kitchen of Crabapple Farm is abuzz with people- the Bob-Whites, the Dodges, police officers taking statement-s- and Dan suddenly feels suffocated. He weaves through the clusters of people and slips out the door to take in some fresh air. Mart catches his eye and throws him a concerned glance, but Dan waves him off.
Dan chooses the back patio over the front porch- he doesn't want to see the half dozen cars flung around the driveway, barricading him in.
The summer air is growing cooler, and he can see the fiery sun disappearing behind the Catskills in the distance. The breeze glides through the evening air, singing through the grass and sending waves of cold to tingle against his skin.
Though he can hear the activity in the house behind him, a sudden feeling of isolation envelopes Dan as he simply stands and watches the darkening sky. The moon is slowly emerging, and the stars will soon follow- light from a million years past, traveling through time and distance to lend their brightness to Earth's darkness.
The night would be barren and empty without the moon and stars- but the moon and stars would never be noticed without the inky blackness of night.
No stars without night; no good without evil. Light cannot be seen without darkness to shine through.
He doesn't know how long he stays there, listening to the breeze hiss, ruffling the grass, and gazing at the fading sunset in the west. Dusk is only a brief time, but it heightens the minutes as well as the shadows.
A shift in color out of the corner of his eye, and then Regan is striding toward him. Before Dan can so much as move, Regan grasps his shoulders, standing before him, holding him there, as though trying to comprehend that Dan is tangible, Dan is safe.
Stunned into silence, Dan can't even find his voice when Regan abruptly wraps him in a rib-crushing hug.
Regan seems to understand, and they embrace wordlessly as night falls.