Aunt Tillie is gone, passed away in her sleep. Mark, Cole, Billie, and I stand at her bedside that morning. Her hair is ghostly white, eyes closed, skin wrinkled and pale, lips purple, but she lies in bed like an elderly sleeping princess. According to Philip Lexington, her husband, she's had cancer for years. I still thought she'd live a long time. The highly opinionated, plenty of spunk, Aunt Tillie, I couldn't see anyone or anything defeating her.

There was a shift in the house the moment she died. Mark, her son, is affected the most. He cries, never seen that burly guy break down like that before. Cole is sad and disappointed. He thought his aunt would never leave him. I'm heartbroken. After living with her for a year, I came to respect her and appreciate her opinions on life. She believed in living with and making do with what we had. Small things made the day worth getting up for: a ripe tomato, Billie's smile, the sun rising, the nonstop movement of the ocean. Without her, I know living in this house is going to be hard. Everything about this place is very much Aunt Tillie.

Mark walks out of the room first. Cole covers her head with the sheet. Don't know why that's done. Just because we can't see her doesn't mean she isn't there.

"We have to bury her today," Cole says as he stares at the bed.

"She liked the rose garden," Billie remarks. "We can bury her there."

Cole nods in agreement and walks out. I want to console him, but I have a feeling he will not be so willing for me to touch him. Instead, I wait until Billie is ready instead of making her leave.

"Are you going to be okay?" I ask.

Billie wipes at the tears on her moistened cheeks. I know she will be okay, but it's a question I have to ask. She is very young, and she has a long life ahead. This is going to be one of those moments that remain in her memories, but she'll forget how Aunt Tillie sounds. She'll become a distant figure in the back of Billie's mind, along with our mother and our puppies, Miss Kiki and King.

After a few minutes, we finally say our good-byes, and we close the door to Aunt Tillie's room. The death of loved ones is something I hate the most. Billie and I already lost way too much, and Aunt Tillie's passing isn't something we are neither prepared nor willing to accept.

I find Cole outside digging a hole near the rose garden. I'm not going to let him do it alone. The shed on the side of the house is open, and I grab a shovel out of it. Thick leather gloves hang on the back of the door. I shake them out, ensuring spiders and other unsavory bugs hasn't made their homes in them. I slowly walk over to Cole and stand in front of him. He is focused as he shoves the blade into the ground and tosses the dirt onto a growing mound. He knows I'm here, but he will not look up at me.

"Sorry about your aunt," I softly say.

Cole keeps on working, as if I said nothing. My heart is breaking for him. He not only lost his dad a year ago, but now his aunt is gone. His cousin, Mark, is still here. While that isn't really a consolation, he is family. Cole is lucky to have him, at least.

I want to give Cole a hug, but he has been distant lately. Sometimes, I think he is avoiding me on purpose. He goes to the woods every single day, an hour or two he's gone, acting like he's checking on the fence, when he's really trying to stay away from me. I'm not stupid. I know when something is wrong with him, but he will not talk to me. I don't know why.

I try to shovel out a little patch, but Cole reaches over and takes the shovel from me.

"Your hand never really healed. You'll hurt yourself again." He sounds angry and dead at the same time.

"I don't mind helping."

"I'll do it, Phoebe. It's fine."

I put my hands in my pockets. One of our tense moments again, and I just want to run into the house to get away from him. But I stay and watch because I do not want Cole to be alone. I want to show him that I care and love him.

Not even a minute goes by, and Mark slumbers out to us. His eyes were red. He looks exhausted and pitiful.

"You might as well stop what you're doing," he says.

"We can't let her stay in the house," Cole remarks, dumping more dirt on the pile.

"The Enlightened is on the way, and they're taking the body to Providence."

The new city, Providence, once known as Orlando, Florida, is where Philip Lexington works and lives. Aunt Tillie used to tell us about the city's progress, how fast it's being built. For a while, I thought she was going to move there, and we'd have no choice but to go with her. But she never mentioned it. She seemed satisfied where she was.

"They can't have her body," Cole says through clenched teeth.

"And how are you going to stop them? They're coming, and there's nothing you can do about it." Mark turns to walk away, but he stops. "There's one more thing. When they leave, we're all going with them."

"Why do we have to go?" I ask. My heart sinks to my stomach.

"Because they won't continue to take care of us out here," Mark coldly answers. "Either we join the society, or we die."

He walks back towards the house, and Cole throws the shovel into the rose garden. A branch breaks, leaves floats to the ground.

"What are we going to do?" I ask Cole.

He shakes his head and turns his back to me. He doesn't want to talk about it. That's what Cole does when he doesn't want to deal or talk to me, and it's all the time now. Usually, I let him get away with it, but now isn't the time.

"I don't want to go to Providence," I remark, grabbing his arms, making him face me.

"Phoebe, we might not have a choice."

"We always have a choice. We need to leave, Cole. We need to leave now. Go on our own."

"To where? We can't go back to the cove. That's been gone for over a year."

"Any place," I plead. "We can make a home anywhere."

"Phoebe-"

"We can do this, Cole. We've made it this far."

"We've only made it this far because we were living in a house provided by my aunt and eating food provided by the Enlightened." He snatches out of my grip. He is aggravated, hurt. "When they come, I'm going with them."

"What if I refuse?" I say with a heavy heart.

So badly I want Cole to say that he will go with me, and I wait. He shakes his head, not saying the words.

"Don't you want to try?" I ask.

"Phoebe, where will we go? It's not like we have a thousand options. We live on an island. People that are still here are barely getting by, and they'll kill you any chance they get. And if we could make it to the mainland, which I doubt because we have no boat, almost every major town and city is destroyed. Our only chance is with the Enlightened."

"We can try."

"Phoebe," he says, losing his patience. "I'm done talking about this."

Cole takes wide, quick steps away from me, clearly an attempt to avoid whatever else I have to say. The last thing I want to do is tick him off even more, especially with the loss of his aunt, but the Enlightened is on their way.

Perhaps, I can convince Cole another way.