The scene is rather mundane, with the acceptation of the considerably deep depression in the ground at the base of the old oak tree; the tree like a black skeletal hand reaching from the ground to pull Lydia into the earth as it once did to Emily. The depression, Lydia has no doubt it was where Emily's murderer had buried her poorly, or if not it had been him, then the earth would have slowly claimed her body. It was here then – or err, in the Land of the Dead, Lydia isn't sure how the two worlds meet – where Emily waited for her true love to come for her. It was here, where her father had mistakenly put her mothers' wedding band on Emily's dead finger in practicing his vows.

That depression, now lush with grass and white lilies that dance in the gentle breeze coming through the surrounding timber. It's almost poetic, in a place marked by such a foul and cruel end to an innocent life as Emily's, there is life growing from the place she once lay lifeless.

Lydia sits down in the grass before the depression, reaches out and picks a single lily from its edge. She twirls its stem between her fingers, watching the petals move, she then takes the flower and nestles it between her ear and scalp.

"You know," comes a voice behind her; her fathers, "not far from here you'll find a tree with an imprint of my face in it." Victor laughs. "I ran into it so hard, mainly because of how fast I was running; running away upon seeing her for the first time."

Lydia laughs, but doesn't face her father. "And you weren't looking where you were going. Yet another skill I got from you. How did you know I was here?"

Victor gets down on one knee beside his daughter, "The town crier came by the house and told us he spotted you walking into the woods. I had a feeling you'd be here."

"So, this is where it all started?"

Victor nods, "This is the first time I've been back here since then. There's a headstone in the cemetery in her memory."

"I don't know why I came out here, it was as if something was pulling me here. Some desire to look upon this place with a newfound understanding."

"There is a different feel since I was here last. As if a shroud of sadness and turmoil has been lifted, and now the air is tranquil with serenity. No longer dark and gloomy, but bright and warm."

Victor puts his arm around Lydia and pulls her into him as they quietly watch the lilies sway.

"She's really gone then."

"No. She's still here, her spirit at least. Her soul may have left this earth, but her spirit surrounds us, she spreads her warmth through theses woods and inside us. No, she is not truly gone."

Lydia's smile is soft from her father's comforting words.

"Now," Victor says standing up, "I'm going to head back to the house, don't be far behind, your mother and I are anxious to hear what your friend said to dinner."

Victor walks off, down the same path he took many years ago.

"Dad?"

Victor stops, looking over his shoulder at Lydia, realizing that's the first time his daughter has ever addressed him as 'Dad'.

"Thank you."

A moment passes, before Victor continues to walk home with a smile on his face.

As Lydia rises to her feet to follow her father, a shimmer in the grass at the bottom of the depression catches her gaze. In her curiosity, she gets down on her knees and rests her hand on the brim of the depression to steady herself as she reaches down to grasp the object.

Now grasping the object, she pulls herself out of the depression and stands back up. In the palm of her hand rests a silver necklace, with a single vibrant green diamond pendant. Lydia imagines the fiend who murdered Emily likely dropped it upon steeling her jewels, odd how the earth hasn't claimed it and how surprisingly clean it is for having been sitting there long before she was even conceived.

Lydia turns the pendant over with her finger and finds the silver is engraved with three initials.

S.V.L.

Lydia becomes perplexed.

Who's S.V.L.?