...

*deep breath*

...Hi.

Has it been three months since I last updated? Yes.

Could I have updated back in June, but I didn't because I'm a lazy piece of poo? Yes.

You all have every right to be bitter about not getting an update (if anyone is bitter at all), because the main reason behind the lack of updates is purely laziness. I know that it's a crap excuse, but it's the truth. Also, as some of you may know, this year has been very harsh on me, and I'm still trying to work it all out and lie loose ends together. Unfortunately, when my life took a turn for the worst, so did my writing.

This chapter was originally supposed to be much longer, but I cut out the parts that I couldn't (or had trouble) writing. This chapter may seem a little shorter than the others, but the upcoming chapter (56) is already in progress and I promise — I SWEAR — I'll try to get it up on time.

Also, the 3 year anniversary is coming up for this story. I want to do something special (I was originally planning on publishing the acknowledgements on the 18th but I don't think it'll happen), so hey, maybe us together will plan it out?

I haven't proofread this and I'm terrible at angst but hopefully you'll be like D: at some point in this chapter bc that's what I was aiming for, haha.

Happy reading!
-Lia


I didn't bother to check the time on the clock but it was dark outside, so I guessed it was the middle of the morning.

Mick tossed and turned every few minutes. He was either too restless to fall asleep or was trying to do so.

Eddie's eyes were closed and his chest moved up and down consistently. He was obviously asleep.

I didn't even bother to close my eyes. I knew that if I did I'd only see a screaming teenager as she died, her life pulled away from her so unfairly, then it ending.

I didn't know if Mick could hear it or not, but there was a faint wail coming from somewhere upstairs. I wasn't worried. I knew who it was. But the cries continued.

I wasn't crying. I didn't know why. Maybe I was too numb to cry. Maybe I wasn't really that upset, like Amber was upstairs, sobbing until the tears ran out.

It was over. And if I closed my eyes, I might've fallen asleep. And if I fell asleep, I'd wake up, and Nina would still be gone.



Her name was echoing through my mind, and I couldn't — wouldn't — let it escape. I didn't know when the last time I'd hear it would be, so I wanted to keep it for as long as I could, wanted to remember the sound the four letters made, especially when they were on my lips, when I was addressing her with it.

It was an old name. Most popularly used in the 1880's, she had told me. It meant "girl" in one language, and "grace" in another (She was most definitely a girl, but she was not graceful). It begin with the fourteenth letter of the alphabet and ended with the first. It was her name.

Nina was the Chosen One and she died much earlier than she was supposed to.

There was an unimaginable amount of pain and I couldn't put it into words.

"Get away from me!"

I turned at the sudden interruption, loose strands of dark hair falling in front of my eyes. I didn't even bother pushing them away, although I could see Patricia and Eddie standing a few meters away from each other in the common room.

"Patricia, you can't just shove me out like that," Eddie was saying. "I have things to say to you."

"And what if I don't want to hear them?" Patricia backfired, but with the hair in my face, I couldn't see her expression. "You don't even deserve to be listened to, much less looked at! Why should I even be making an effort with you at all? You're just...you're just rude, and uncouth, and presumptuous, and you're a killer above all!

"Patricia, stop screaming!" Eddie's voice was hushed, and I realized that maybe I should quickly slither out of the kitchen before I was seen by either one of them, so I silently opened the laundry room's door and leaned my head against the door frame from inside. I could still hear them.

"Don't touch me! If you touch me, I will scream. I will."

"Okay. I won't touch you. Just please...please listen to me. I have things I want to say, want to get off my chest, but no one will fucking listen to me in this house! I need to tell someone."

"What, that you killed Nina?"

Hearing her say it so casually like that...it almost tore my heart in half.

"See, that's what no one understands!" Eddie bellowed. I couldn't imagine the anger on his face. "I didn't kill her!"

"I saw you give Paul the elixir!" Patricia screamed, loud enough for the entire house to hear. "Don't deny it, you fucking scumbag! You killed Nina! You killed her! You! YOU!"

"I DIDN'T KILL HER!"

"I SAW YOU KILL HER!"

"I DIDN'T FUCKIN—"

Then suddenly, the screaming between the two of them suddenly came to a halt. I was tempted to peek out of the laundry room door, possibly see where they went or what happened, but their conversation continued almost as soon as it had stopped.

"You have to listen to me, Patricia. No one in this house will listen to a word I have to say."

"And why do you think that is?"

"I swear to Christ, if another person says that I killed her—"

"Eddie, just admit it," Patricia's voice was surprisingly calm. "You killed her. You gave Paul the elixir that Victor drank. He's granted immortal life now. He'll live forever and...Nina won't."

"So what?"

"So what?!" Patricia's voice suddenly rose in anger, but another few seconds of silence passed, and the calmness returned. "I just...I don't think I'll be able to look at Victor the same way ever again. He stole a life. He stole a life that you gave to him."

"Jesus, Patricia, when will you stop with the accusations?"

"I'll stop with the accusations when you admit that you killed Nina!"

I felt my stomach tie up in knots. How long it had been, I didn't know, but it still hurt. Every time I closed my eyes, I could see Nina slowly dying on the pavement, I could hear the heart-wrenching screams as the life was sucked out of her and given to Victor instead, could remember the exact moment I heard the screams stop, her eyes close, her body slump...

I was holding her the exact moment she died.

And the person who was responsible for that was standing a few feet away from the door.

"How can I admit something that isn't true?" Eddie continued to protest a very true statement.

"Eddie." Patricia's voice was somehow calmer than before, but I could sense anger hiding deep underneath, anger she didn't want to let bubble to the surface. "We were all there. We all saw, with our own eyes, you give Paul the elixir when he asked you to give him it. You betrayed us. You killed Nina."

Silence.

"...and the sooner you admit that, the better."

I could feel bitterness boiling inside of me. The moment I started to trust Eddie with our secrets and let him in, he betrayed us, just like Patricia said. He killed my girlfriend. He killed my best friend. He killed her, and she wasn't ever coming back to us, and that wasn't something easily forgivable.

I could hear a long, loud sigh. "Patricia..." Eddie began, his voice cracked, almost like he was...crying.

He continued, "I know what I did. I'm not an idiot. I'm fully aware of it. But I..." he heaved a deep sigh. "I had to.

"Amber was screaming at me this morning, telling me to get out, that I killed Nina. And yeah. I did kill Nina. I killed her."

Hearing those words, spoken by Eddie himself, made me feel like a knife was being stabbed through my chest.

"I stole the elixir from Fabian's back pocket without him even knowing. It was a plan, Patricia. It was all a plan...I knew this was going to happen weeks ago. I knew what I had to do, even if it was wrong. Even if I'd regret it for the rest of my life."

"It was a plan?" Patricia asked.

"Yeah," Eddie breathed quietly. I had trouble hearing him. "Nina figured out...she realized that because Paul's main goal was to destroy her, the only way to get rid of him was to permanently destroy her. She had to die. It was the only way to end this."

I tried not to slide against the side of the door and hide my head in my legs and stay there for the rest of the night. Nina knew she was going to die...she knew...

Her last words to me were "I'm sorry".

I didn't know what she was sorry for.

Putting us through the torture that was the dreams and subjecting us to Paul's games? Not letting me stay after school with her the day Mr. Winkler asked her to stay behind to discuss her grades? Sorry that...that she was about to die before any of us could save her?

If I didn't know what she was sorry for, how could I ever forgive her?

Despite the utter heartache I was feeling, Patricia and Eddie's conversation continued outside of the door. "No, Eddie. No, you're wrong."

"This is what I mean about no one listening to me!" Eddie's voice, still broken from the tears he shed, was completely desperate for the need to be heard. I could almost — not exactly — sympathize with him. No matter what he did or said, however, he would always be the person who killed Nina. "I just spoke to you about how it was a plan. Nina and I had been talking about it for weeks beforehand! She agreed to this. It was her choice. I wouldn't have killed her if she didn't say that it was okay."

"No," Patricia whispered.

"Yes!" Eddie protested. "Yes, yes, yes, you don't understand—"

"Oh, I understand completely. You're saying that you killed Nina because she told you that you could. You're saying it was her choice. It wasn't her choice."

There was a pause.

"It was yours. Nina may have agreed to the 'plan' that you could kill her, but in the end, Eddie, it was your choice. You made the decision to take the elixir from Fabian's pocket when you could have left it there. You made the decision to give Paul the elixir you stole, when you could have just as easily said 'No, I don't want to kill my friend, so I won't give you the elixir that will allow you to do so'. It was your choice. No one else's. Yours.

"...and you made the wrong choice."

"I don't see how it was wrong."

Another few seconds meant moments of silence, moments that I could only imagine what was going on behind the door. I couldn't actually imagine anything; it was like my mind was too numb to even think a single thought, to imagine myself feeling any emotion.

Then, suddenly, Patricia spoke again. "You don't see how it was wrong."

Her voice was anything but calm when she repeated Eddie's statement.

"Yeah," Eddie said carefully, like he was watching his words. "Like I said, it was all planned out."

"I DON'T CARE ABOUT THE GODDAMN PLAN!"

"Stop screaming!"

"NO! NO, I will not stop screaming," Patricia pushed her limits, though her most recent words weren't as loud as her previous. "I will NOT stop screaming. How can you be so motherfucking stupid?! It just blows my mind. I can't imagine being that stupid to know you killed her, as you said, but to still think it wasn't wrong. IT WAS WRONG! I DON'T CARE WHAT YOU SAY! IT WAS WRONG ON SO MANY GODDAMN LEVELS!"

I stood in silence, my ear pressed against the door, listening to Patricia's blow-out. "Oh my god. Oh my god. I just...I just can't handle this. I can't listen to you anymore. I can't even stand near you. I feel like I'm going to throw up every time I look at you."

"Why, am I really that repulsive?"

"IT'S NOT ABOUT BEING UGLY OH MY FUCK—" She intook a deep breath. "Every time I have looked at you so far in this conversation, all I see is a murderer. Not the boy who I thought I was warming up to in the past. I see a deep, cold-blooded murderer, that made the selfish choice to kill his own friend...if she was ever your friend in the first place, that is."

"How dare you suggest that Nina wasn't my friend—"

"Was she?" Patricia's voice was suddenly condescending. "Would a rational person kill their own friend?"

"...Maybe I'm not rational."

Patricia laughed, almost no humor strung into it. "Yeah, I got that much. I also got that either...either Nina wasn't your friend at all or you're just so bone-dead stupid to even realize that what you did was wrong. Because no matter how you word this, buddy, you are always going to be a murderer. Nina didn't deserve to die."

"I know she didn't."

"Then why did you kill her?"

"Because I had to," Eddie repeated, desperation reappearing into his tone. "I had to. It was the only way to get Paul off of our backs for good. We don't have to deal with him anymore, Yacker. He's gone."

At the use of the semi-sweet pet name, Patricia's voice seemed to soften. "...To be honest with you, I'd much rather deal with Paul teasing and tormenting us than knowing she was dead. I'd much rather that than anything else."

"Why?"

"Because now I can never ask her why she never sent me a dream."

The moment I heard the words come out of Patricia's mouth, I, for once, almost understood her.

I couldn't imagine the pain and betrayal she must have felt, knowing that of everyone in Anubis House — even one person that Nina didn't even know personally — Patricia was the only one to not receive a dream. She was kept out of the loop, so when everyone else was talking about how vague Nina seemed last night in their dream, Patricia could only imagine what that would feel it.

"I'd rather deal with Paul coming and threatening us than knowing I can never ask Nina why she never sent me a dream. What did she mean by it? Was she trying to teach me a lesson or something?"

"Patricia," Eddie breathed, his voice soft, "I'm sure she didn't mean anything by it—"

"You don't know that," Patricia whispered. This was the calmest I had ever heard her.

"Well, I know Nina," Eddie returned, in a respectful manner. "And I know that—"

"Eddie." Patricia interrupted him, her voice stern but peaceful. "I'm not saying that you weren't friends with Nina or that you didn't know her, but you only knew her for two months before you killed her. I knew for an entire school year and the months after that, however many there were. We may not have been best friends, but I'm fairly confident that I know her just a little bit better than you do.

"You're not Nina. You can't read her mind or get into her head. She's very secretive, and she always has been. There are probably stories of what Paul told her or did to her in Shadowland that she never told you, and now she never can."

Her statement made me think of my relationship with Nina; after she disappeared, the only times I was able to see her was after I fell asleep, in a dream deep inside my subconscious. She only told me so much in the limited time we had, but I always thought she shared the stories and tales of her time there with me.

I knew Nina the same amount of time that Patricia had, but I was always certain that I knew her.

Nina wasn't exactly predictable — she could be quite impulsive at times, in fact — but I knew her well enough to know the tone of voice she was going to use to respond to something or the way she was going to wear her hair (always down, her bangs clipped back) or her emotions on a certain subject.

Now I thought of all the stories I hadn't heard, all the secrets she might have kept from me for one reason or another, all the lies she told.

Did I ever really know her at all? Nina Anne Martin, the 16-year-old girl from Long Island, New York...curious, friendly, enthusiastic...the girl that died yesterday. Was it all just a lie she had created? Was I going to wake up in the middle of the night, haunted by the memories I had of her?

"If she was here...I could have asked her why she didn't send me a dream. Was it something I did? We didn't get along when she first arrived to Anubis House, but I was foolish and childish and I apologized for that. If she was here, I could have asked her why. I could have gotten an answer for something that had been eating at me for almost two months. And now thanks to you, I can never, ever get my answer."

"Patricia, I'm sorry, but it had to happen—"

"NO!" Patricia boomed, a tone of voice coming to light that I hadn't heard. "NO! It didn't have to happen. We could have found another way. I know we could've. We're freaking Sibuna!"

No, there was no Sibuna without Nina. I couldn't go to Sibuna meetings anymore, knowing Nina was gone and dead, and not just missing. There was no Sibuna without Nina.

"We found the broken Cup of Ankh pieces that had been missing for decades! Sibuna could have found another way. It didn't have to happen. You made the selfish choice, and you killed her to get out of a bad situation you were in, and you found the easy way out. That's not how Sibuna does it. We stick by each other, no matter what happens. No matter how hopeless the situation is, we never give up on each other.

"Nina was my friend!" Patricia exclaimed suddenly, the tears leaking into her voice. "She was my friend and now she's gone! I can't ever see her again! I can't ever apologize for the way I acted when she first came...she's gone..."

For a while, the only sound I heard from the other side of the door was Patricia's soft sniffles, caused by the loss of a friend.

It was strange, hearing Patricia "I'm-Never-Wrong" Williamson cry in front of Eddie, the person who murdered the girl whom Patricia was crying over. Patricia almost never showed emotion; the only time I'd seen her truly vulnerable was last year, when she just couldn't figure out where Joy went and no one seemed to care anymore. If you judged that Patricia, the one who poured a pitcher of water over Nina's clothes to the Patricia now, who was crying into her hands because her friend was dead, you probably wouldn't even know it was the same person.

"Patricia, I'm sorry," Eddie apologized quietly.

"Don't say you're sorry," Patricia responded, her voice weak and wet with tears.

"Patricia—"

"No. Just don't. An apology doesn't even cut it in this case." She inhaled a deep breath then moaned as if she was stretching. "Whatever. It doesn't matter."

"It matters because for the last few minutes—"

"It doesn't matter," Patricia insisted firmly. "She's dead. I can't ever see her again. Whatever, right?"

I heard footsteps, but no voices. Either Patricia and Eddie weren't talking, or she was walking away. With both choices in hand, I couldn't actually pinpoint which one I wished for her to do more, pain me with her silence or her screams.

"Patricia," Eddie breathed, his voice exasperated and tired, "do you understand that I did what I had to do?"

"Yeah, I understand."

Then, just when I thought Patricia had walked away, I heard her tell Eddie in a voice so silent I struggled to hear, "All I ever wanted was an answer, Eddie. I almost got it. But just...just as it was within reach, you had to come and take that away from me. And I don't know if I can ever forgive you."



"Fabian."

I froze in my spot. Although my back was to him, I could clearly tell who the voice belonged to, as it was quite distinguishable. Apparently, my plan of escaping out of the laundry room and into my bedroom quickly without being noticed failed miserably.

I didn't say anything in response. I figured that maybe if I ignored him, he might go away, as if I was busy with a certain task at hand.

But since there was nothing in the kitchen but empty counters, all I did was stand in one spot and look like an idiot.

"Fabian, look at me," Eddie's voice, more stern than before, commanded me. It was closer now, as if he was walking towards me. And it almost scared me to know that someone whom I'd thought I'd known, someone who betrayed my trust and killed my best friend, was only a few steps away. Almost.

Nina might be gone, but if I had learned one thing during my time with her, was that I had to be the bravest I could be. I had to be right brave now. For Nina.

"Did you hear all that?" Eddie demanded sternly. "Did you hear what I was talking about with Patricia?"

Go away! I wanted to scream, Stop talking to me, stop looking at me, go rot in a hole you dirty horrible malicious person, don't ever look at me again!

"Fabian, please," Eddie begged, his tone suddenly making a 180 to sound utterly exhausted, like he was finished trying to get answers out of people and explain his actions over and over again. How many times had he told himself, I didn't kill Nina, before he'd finally admitted it? A mindset like that wouldn't get him anywhere, since he would just be lying to himself over and over again. There would have to be a time when he'd have to face the truth of what he did.

All Eddie was going to do if I faced him was tell me that Patricia was wrong, that he didn't kill Nina, that I had to understand that Eddie 'did what he had to do' and wasn't convinced that he ended a teenager's life, that he took it away. I didn't have time for that bullshit in my life right now.

I didn't want to turn around to him, but it didn't stop Eddie from continuing. "Fabian. Okay, if you heard that, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."

I was so shocked by what he had said that I actually did turn around, and what I saw was more of a shock to me than his apology. There were tears resting on his cheeks, more spilling from his eyes by the second. Eddie was crying.

I almost felt pity for him for a second there.

"You're not sorry," I said quietly, forcing myself to make eye contact with him. However, as soon as I met his eyes, he turned and hid his face away. He might have been ashamed of the fact that he was showing emotion in front of me.

"I am sorry," Eddie pushed back, his voice clement and broken. "Why doesn't anyone ever believe me when I say I'm sorry? I'm sorry that I killed Nina. I am. I wish I didn't, but I did, and it's in the past now so all there's left to do is—"

"You're not sorry," I repeated, my voice taking on the austere manner Eddie had before. "You can't even be sorry in this situation."

"What do you mean—"

"An apology...an apology consists of a few things. First, you, um, you have to realize what you did wrong."

"Yeah, I know what I did wrong—"

"Don't interrupt. You have to realize what you did wrong, you have to address how you hurt the people around you, and you have to give an explanation of how you'd never do it again. That's an apology. But you...you're just saying sorry because you have to. You don't mean it. You don't know how you hurt us. And you certainly can't tell us how you'd never do it again because killing Nina is just unforgivable."

"So you're just going to hold a grudge against me until we graduate?"

I thought about that for a moment.

How would I feel, seeing Eddie every single day when I woke up, went to school, and ate dinner, but glowering at him instead of telling him good night? I was graduating in the spring of 2013, and it was only winter 2011 now. That was a long time to go on holding a grudge against someone...especially someone who would spent endless nights attempting to make me forgive him.

Would I ever be able to forgive Eddie for what he did?

He murdered Nina. There was no sugarcoating what he did, not in the slightest. He made the selfish choice and gave Paul the elixir, so in the end Victor would be able to live forever while Nina's life ended early, and Eddie was the cause of all that. But would I ever be able to forgive him, to let go of this grudge?

"I don't know, Eddie," I muttered honestly, running my fingers through my hair. "I don't know."

"I don't want you to."

I pursed my lips. Eddie's voice was so small and broken; it reminded me of a toddler who fell off his bike and scraped his knee, searching for his mum.

"I know you don't want me to," I said, stalling for time, "but this is...this isn't something that can blow by easily, Eddie. You didn't just break an expensive vase or something. You killed Nina. She's not here right now, and she'll never be here, because you killed her. Killing someone is much worse than a broken vase."

Eddie blinked, and stared at the floor in shame. He didn't answer for quite some time, and I never spoke up, either.

"I'm sorry," Eddie apologized once again, tears leaking out of his eyes. "And I know that you said I shouldn't apologize, and I understand. I killed her. But I did what I had to do and—"

I rolled my eyes. "Oh, enough with the 'what I had to do' bullshit, Eddie," I sneered, clenching my fist to stop it from shaking. "You didn't have to kill her. Did you hear what Patricia said in there?"

"Oh, I heard what she said loud and clear—"

"We're Sibuna," I snarled maliciously. "Sticking together is what we do. We don't leave anyone behind. Do you know how many nights I spent planning for the day we got Nina out? A lot, Eddie. I spent a lot of nights doing that. I was...I was so excited to get her back. To start Sibuna again. And now I can't. I won't. Because there is no Sibuna without Nina. No Chosen One, no club, and certainly no Osirian to eavesdrop on our conversations.

"...We could have gotten her out," I whispered, leaning against the counter, my face aimed away from Eddie's. "I know we could've."

I saw Eddie nod solemnly from the corner of my eye and say no more, but I felt no need to fill the empty spaces.

We remained like that for a while, not saying anything. My gaze was unfocused, although I mostly stared at the salt and pepper shakers, sitting on the counter with no companions.

"You don't seem," Eddie began, clearing his throat when he realized how cracked his voice sounded. "You don't seem very upset about all this."

I quickly swiveled my head to Eddie's face and glowered at him. "How could you even think I'm not upset about this? My girlfriend is dead. Do you not think I have a heart? That I don't have emotions?"

"Well, you're not crying," Eddie said, snark leaking back into his tone. "And people usually cry when they're sad."

I pursed my lips into a straight line, my gaze softening. Eddie seemed to be returning the glower I looked at him with just a minute earlier. "I am sad," I whispered, biting down on my bottom lip.

"I believe you."

"But I just...I don't know why I haven't been crying. I'm sad. I'm miserable. But I just...I haven't cried. And I don't know why."

The moment after I said that, I felt like I'd admitted something much too personal. I had a feeling that I wouldn't be talking about Nina to many people after this. though. Maybe when my future wife asked me who my first love was, I'd find the courage within myself to talk about the American girl named Nina Martin who came to Anubis House and stole my heart before Christmas only to die the next year, but as of right now, I didn't think I'd be speaking of her much.

I wasn't the only person who knew Nina, so our short affair wasn't secret in any way, but the small moments...I felt like they only belonged to me.

The way she made me feel, the small smirk she threw me every time Mr. Winkler mentioned Egypt, that time on October 6th (which was only a week and a half before she was kidnapped) when I was freaking out over a test I wasn't positive I would ace, so she planted a kiss on my forehead and told me "Even if you don't do well, I'll still love you and believe in you, and you won't be any less intelligent than you are".

The things that were directed to me, the words, the smiles, the kisses, the touches, the things that were all but a memory now...I wasn't going to share them with anyone. They were mine.

"Everyone deals with things differently, Fabian," Eddie was saying. "You're still grieving her death, and not crying doesn't change that."

"But I've known her for more than a year than you have, and just before you were—"

"Cut it, Fabian," Eddie snapped, his tension growing. "Leave me out of this."

I felt too exhausted to laugh at all, but I released an odd, short breath of air out of my mouth. "Leave you out of this. Okay. Coming from the boy who killed her."

"I didn't fucki—" Right then, Eddie's eyes filled with anger and hatred, something I had never seen in him before. Sure, he may be a pain in the ass and a useless troublemaker, but he always had this soft look in his eyes that made me believe he'd never hurt a fly. This was the first time I had seen him truly angry. "Yeah. Whatever. You're not crying. Isn't that brilliant? What do you want me to do about it?"

"Nothing, I guess," I breathed, glancing to the right of his body so I didn't have to look him in the eye. "You can't do anything."

"That's right."

A silence stood between us just then, and for once, I didn't know what to say. I was dumbfounded by how stupid and ignorant Eddie was being, confused at why I wasn't being emotional about anything at all, and most of all, exhausted. I felt like I wanted to sleep for ten years and not wake up.

Instead of letting this silence go on for any longer, I walked out of the kitchen without even a parting goodbye. Eddie didn't deserve one, to be truthful.

I ran to my room before he could catch up to me and locked the door. Mick was out somewhere, doing something, so I was alone. From now on, in Anubis House, I'd be alone. I'd be surrounded by eight, maybe nine other people, but I'd always be alone. Nothing could ever fill that gap.

I didn't know what I wanted to do Eddie. I wanted to wring his neck so badly that the want was torturing me, but I also wanted to sit down and talk to him.

From now on, I wasn't going to give Eddie a welcoming smile or a glance his way or so much as the time of day. We'd be roommates, yes, but that's all we'd ever be. I didn't know if I could even be acquaintances with someone who tried time and time again to deny the awful deed he committed, the event that would be burned in the back of my memory forever, and try to play it off as it was some kind of joke. I was suffering. We were all suffering. And Eddie didn't seem to understand.

I wondered what Amber was doing, upstairs. Packing? Sitting with Alfie? Crying? I'd seen Amber cry before, and Alfie wasn't very experienced in the world of crying women, so if she was crying up there I couldn't imagine how he was reacting. At least Amber was getting her emotions out instead of crying about them, like me.

I heard a crash and a bang upstairs.

"Ouch!" Someone laughed, along with another voice. "Alfie, that hurt! You're such an idiot!"

"But you love me anyway."

Amber wasn't crying.

So, to make up for her absent tears, I shed some of my own.

And I just sat there, for hours upon hours upon hours, sitting against the wall with my head in my hands muttering incoherent words, sobbing until the tears ran out.