Everything blurred together, rain, light and sound melded into a roaring torrent of… silence. Except for those few images that appeared occasionally in his blinded vision. The most important ones. The ravishing waters and stone daggers over the side of the cliff. Harrison's golden gun lying uselessly on the ground. Harrison's look of complete anger and triumph.

A bloody, unconscious face, broken beneath the pounding of his fists. Hugh yelling at him, his strong arms around him to pull him away. Police cars pulling up on the road to the lighthouse. Phryne's flowing scarf discarded near her car in her haste to catch a killer…

Jack closed his eyes and swallowed hard to regain his composure, forcing the images and memories away. Tears had begun to well in his eyes at the thought of her but he couldn't afford to cry any more. He settled for letting Dot do so for the both of them. The girl was curled up in Hugh's arms, sobbing uncontrollably and soaking his jacket through but the constable didn't seem to mind, softly stroking her hair.

None of them had been the same since Phryne's death. She wouldn't have wanted it that way but… it was how things came to be those days. She meant an awful lot. She did mean an awful lot.

Craig Harrison was dead after having lost his footing near the edge of the cliff and falling off. His body was found among the rocks, his face damaged beyond compare and his lifeless body now no longer to do any harm. Jack absent mildly rubbed his bandaged knuckles, wincing slightly as he accidentally flexed one of his fingers.

In his broken state, he'd tripped and horribly scraped his hands against a hidden outcrop of rocks on the ground. The cliff had been more life-threatening and dangerous than anyone had been led to believe. That was what Constable Hugh said to his other authorities however when they'd arrived too late. It was their story and too many people were gone that night, not just Harrison and Phryne.

Two weeks had passed since that night and no one was fairing any better. Dot was still crying, Mr Butler looked lost, Mac dove into her work crazily, Hugh was upset and constantly comforted Dot and… Jack?

He'd told Phryne once that when he thought she'd died in that car accident, life became suddenly unbearable. He was so wrong. He'd underestimated it entirely. Life was unimaginable now. He loved her. He always would and it had taken him a bloody long, stupid time to realise it. Now, his opportunity was lost forever. She was gone and she was never coming back. That beautiful, reckless woman.

"Detective? Doctor Macmillian just called. The funeral will begin in an hour. I suggest that you should be moving soon." Mr Butler advised, tentatively walking into the room.

"Thank you Mr Butler. We'll be going shortly." Jack heard himself say and then Hugh looked at him. He could tell that the constable had sensed something in his voice and he couldn't take it anymore. Standing up, he half ran out of the house, unable to bear any of the memories any more. It wasn't fair. None of it was. None of it should have ever happened.

But it did and now they were going to Phryne Fisher's funeral. Jack was a man of few emotions but standing there on the Melbourne street in front of her house, surrounded by everything of her except for her... people walking past would see a devastated man, cursing the skies as tears slowly dripped down to splash on the ground. Just like that night.