Elizabeth woke up slowly. She didn't feel rested, she didn't feel refreshed but, as her eyes fluttered her towards wakefulness, she knew there was no chance she would sleep again. She noted the soft and not particularly bright sun trying its best to pour in through her windows and right away she knew that it was still reasonably early. She knew that she'd not woken up late - the Santa Carla sun was only ever this weak in the morning. She saw her curtains flutter lightly in the small breeze, saw that the window itself was opened a little, letting fresh air circulate around her room.

Dwayne had left the window open for her, he had left it open a comfortable amount and, as she sat up, her blanket snagged against her body before falling to her lap and she bit her lip.

He'd tucked her in, too.

Elizabeth groaned and shook her head. She closed her eyes, squeezing them tightly as she tried to clear her mind of the thoughts that were already beginning to form. She didn't want to deal with any of it. She had only just woken up but she felt tired all over again and in that moment she realized that there was little use in fighting it all.

She was going to have to face the reality she had found herself immersed in but she didn't want to think about him, she didn't want to think about the events of the previous night. She didn't want to deal with reality. Oddly, in the comforting light of day it all felt even more horrible.

With a shuddering sigh, she opened her eyes.

She looked around her room, slowly taking everything in but nothing was out of place, nothing had changed. Dwayne had left it completely untouched. She looked down at her bed before running her hands up to her neck, her hairline..

Nothing.

He had left without a trace.

It was as if he had never even been there.

She felt hurt and alone, her stomach clenching when she took stock of her feelings. She knew that Dwayne had left her reluctantly...if felt wrong to admit but even knowing what he was, she hoped he had left her reluctantly. She couldn't deny her feelings, despite the horror and confusion and dull sense of fear, she still couldn't deny that she loved him. She did. She loved him so much it was close to unbearable...even more so when waking up to nothing. In her heart she knew that everything he had done was out of respect for her and her feelings, confused though they were. He had left without a trace in an attempt to not overwhelm her, perhaps to give her space to think and process? She didn't doubt his intention but it hurt all the same.

She felt so alone...alone in a terrifying world she didn't understand.

She got out of her bed, steadfastly ignoring the red stain that still marred her sheets, before neatening her covers, acting on impulse. She moved to her desk, the table that doubled as her study place and vanity but there were no notes, no messages...

Nothing.

She opened her mouth before closing it, finding no words, not even a grunt or groan.

Not bothering to change her clothes or take down her messy, slept in bun, Elizabeth sped out of her room, thudded like a zombie down her little staircase and walked down to the landing. She couldn't do this, not today. Not by herself. She needed company, she needed her family, she needed to see and speak with her brothers, to laugh and play around and latch on to their normalcy, their reality. She needed them, they were safe and secure and familiar.

"Guys?" she called out into the silent house.

No response.

"Not today..guys?!" she called again, her voice taking on a little desperate tremble.

There was silence from both of her brother's rooms and the family bathroom. No noise was creeping up from the kitchen, the often unused living room sounded empty. The house was still. She would have given anything for some noise, for a sign of life.

Anything to show that she wasn't alone.

Not even the dog barked.

She knocked on Sam's door before moving to Michael's, knocking with a desperate splat of her palm.

"Please…" she whispered, turning the knob.

Michael's room was empty. She looked around the surprisingly tidy space, looked at the quite full laundry hamper, the shoes lined up next to his closet. Orderly, neat and silent. He wasn't there. She saw the door to his bathroom was open, as was Sammy's adjoining one. It showed a painful hint of Sammy's equally empty room, the eyes of his posters staring unseeingly at her. They always closed their doors, sharing a bathroom had really ignited their need for privacy but today, the day she needed them the most, those adjoining doors seemed to be mocking her. Open, wide, showing her just how alone she was.

She left Michael's room and moved to brush her teeth in the family bathroom that she and Dwayne had used last night.

The silence of the house pressed in on her and she closed her eyes as she brushed her teeth, willing herself not to cry.

The beach was quiet, it was barely ten in the morning but he knew the crowds would be coming soon. People would start to amble down before lunch and then they would come in droves when noon was about to strike. They would place towels and umbrellas and spend the latter part of their afternoon basking under the hot sun, tanning and swimming and eating. There were definitely worse ways to spend a day but right now the beach was almost empty. A few early birds, a couple of families and some aged swimmers.

The morning is actually a nice time to come down, Michael mused as he looked down the calm stretch of beach.

The rides on the boardwalk were just starting to pick up and the sounds were already starting to pulsate down the quiet section of beach he was working on. With the cawing of the seagulls, it was actually nice.

Peaceful.

No people talking or hollering, just the sound of the sea and the rides. The cable car was whirring in the distance, the almost empty cars of the roller coaster were breezing along the wood and making a very nice chugging sound and the flashing lights themselves looked very muted in the daylight.

Paired with the soft sun and the light breeze it felt very picturesque, very wholesome. It felt nice.

He didn't think Santa Carla could be any of those things but here he was, proven wrong.

"You shouldn't be pickin' up trash, boy" drawled a heavy set man before him and Michael laughed, blinking away from the attractions in the distance.

The man had been walking up the beach with a purposeful air but Michael hadn't really paid him much attention.

He had a job to do, after all.

"Yeah? Not much else going around here…"

Truthfully, he realized that Lucy had been lucky to land her job. Insanely lucky. He had been keeping an eye out and coming up with nothing. He knew that Sam would never have believed that his older brother was scoping the work scene but he had been. He'd had no success but he'd been trying.

He couldn't pin down why, exactly, but a few nights ago he just had the urge to..for lack of a better word...buck up his act. He had fastidiously brushed his teeth, he went to bed at a reasonable hour and he had even dressed in an old set of pajamas he hadn't even intended to bring from Arizona and then, the next morning he realized the he felt good for it. He spent the following night with Star, just him and her - no alcohol, no parties. Just the two of them...and he had loved it.

He wanted that every night, every night for the rest of his life and he had told himself that he would start making moves, making plans to make sure he could have it. Before and sometimes even during his dates he had been looking for work. It hadn't been easy though. Santa Carla wasn't exactly a wholesome place and jobs were almost impossible to find.

He was dismissed as too young to work in the numerous bars and clubs or perhaps he looked too wholesome because even the seedy places that seemed to thrive around the backstreets wouldn't give him a look in. He knew it wasn't really a legal thing; he saw plenty of underage patrons while he was being herded out. The few restaurants he'd inquired at were "over staffed" as it was, the fast food joints uninterested and it seemed the boardwalk itself along with all the rides and attractions that made it was run exclusively by families.

Picking up trash on the beach with people whose background he knew better than to question was all he could get.

Santa Carla was a dead end.

"Nothing legal, anyway..." the man agreed with a nod, giving Michael a knowing look, "...can be tough down here"

Michael skewered another empty can onto his spiked pole, sliding it into the trash bag he had slung over his back. A bead of sweat worked its way down his neck and into the fabric of his tank top but it didn't bother him.

He felt great. It wasn't his dream job, far from it, but it was doing the job. He was getting some cash and better still, it was all under the table. None of the money he worked hard for - and he was working hard - was going to Uncle Sam.

This was his second day picking up trash now. He'd kept it secret from his siblings. He wasn't ashamed, not even close. He wanted money and he was making it - there was no shame in that - but Sammy would have ribbed the hell out of him. He wasn't in the mood for that on top of the comments about his evening activities. This was the first day he'd been there bright and early though. The last time - which had also happened to be the first time - he'd picked up work was in the afternoon. It was harder then, trying to navigate the throng of people, having them watch him as he cleared up their mess in the glaring heat of the day. He must have done something right, though. He hoped picking up trash wasn't his calling but he was grateful that the guy who chose him to do the work had suggested he make it earlier the next day. It was cooler, less busy and paid a little more, too.

He was working hard, he was earning money, he could treat Star to all the things she deserved. Well. Not all the things, not yet. He'd only just started but it was nice not to worry about treating her to dinner tonight and it was nice knowing he could do the same tomorrow night.

He was satisfied. Sammy could complain about his social life, his relationship with Star all he wanted but he was feeling good. He was feeling good, he was happy. That's all he needed, that's all he wanted. He'd slog away on the beach forever if it meant he could spend time with his Star in the evenings.

"I don't mind it though" Michael told the man with a grin, letting his thoughts slip away from him as he slid yet another speared can from the pole into his trash bag. It clanged loudly as it met the many others filling the bag.

"No?"

"Nah..."

"College boys usually kind of fussy about this kinda work…" the man said, spitting some chewing tobacco into the sand. Michael watched as he buried it with his booted foot, the camel colored, steel-tipped work boots looking very odd against the sand. It was a funny contrast; tropical vs industrial.

"I'm not a college boy.." Michael shrugged with a little laugh. It was the first time anyone in the town had considered him to be more than he was.

"No?"

"No"

Michael collected yet another can, clearing the ground between him and his new conversation buddy with efficient ease.

"High school?"

"Uhhh..." Michael shrugged, resting on his pole for a second as he considered his answer.

Lucy had looked so hurt when he had mentioned to her in passing that he was thinking about not going back to school. She'd looked so disappointed that he hadn't mentioned it again but he just wasn't sure about returning. He knew she didn't like the idea of her eldest son dropping out but what should he do? School felt so pointless at this stage. He'd seen Santa Carla. He'd been around, he had seen what was on offer and he had seen that the town was just...he didn't have a future in Santa Carla.

There was no way he could make a stable future, provide for a family, provide for himself and Star.

He had always kind of known that academia wasn't for him but seeing the dead ends in town had made him realize that that wasn't for him, either. He had decent grades, he kind of enjoyed some classes but he wasn't like Elizabeth or Sam. He didn't have a passion for it and everything was so expensive. God, even High School was expensive. It had been expensive back in Arizona when there was a stable income. Books, transport, lunch. Now that he had moved to Santa Carla he couldn't help but think...what was the point? Why enroll at a new school in a new place when Lucy couldn't afford to send him to college at the end of it all, anyway. School was a burden to her now and would be a burden to both of them in the future. He would never get a good scholarship, he'd be in debt for the rest of his life and again, what was the point? Go in the red just for a fancy diploma?

He thought of his father, highly educated, comfortable and well off. He had the diploma, he had the office and the staff and all the arrogance that went with it. Then there was Lucy, sweet and caring, not educated beyond high school and having to work in a video rental shop to make ends meet.

He and Star could work now, could earn money now. They could plan for their future together. The more he thought about getting a career started, getting money in a bank the more it appealed to him. It happened all the time, he had reasoned during one of his evenings with Star. A man could get a career off the ground and by the time other guys his age had graduated from school and then college, those working men had gotten promotions and a salary that fresh grads couldn't hope to get.

Why couldn't he have it, too? he could be that working man.

He thought his siblings would rag the hell out of him if he opened up to them. Sam seemed to really have it in for his relationship with Star, Lucy wanted him to graduate High School...he had a great thing with Star and he knew that's what he wanted for his future.

He found that that's what his thoughts kept coming back to: making a solid future for himself and the woman he loved. It sucked that Sam had to be such a little monster about it all though, because he would have liked to have someone to discuss it with, someone who wouldn't scoff at or dismiss him right away. It sucked how lonely he felt when he was with his family...but still. He had Star. And she dreamed about it too. They had long, wistful and longing conversations about busting out of Santa Carla and starting their lives somewhere...it was a nice dream. It was nice to share it with her.

"..yeah but you know.." Michael said with a half-shrug. He didn't know how to articulate his numerous thoughts and what should he say to this man, anyway? He was friendly but a friendly stranger was still stranger.

"You're not set on it?"

Michael nodded, "nah, not really"

"Why?"

"Why?" Michael laughed.

"Yeah" the man smiled, "c'mon, kid. Humor me"

Michael twirled his spiked pole into the sand a little and considered the man before him. His work boots were serious, he could see they were expensive, expensive and used and despite the swell of his stomach, his skin was tanned, his hands split and calloused…he looked like a man who wasn't afraid of hard work.

"Honestly?" the man nodded and Michael continued, thinking about Star, "I want to work. I want to earn..think about the future"

"You set on Santa Carla?"

Michael paused, "what?"

"Ain't no future in Santa Carla" he shrugged, "it's for the dyin' and the dead. Kids come and go, summer crowds come and go but regular people? We stagnate here.."

"...that's what I've been afraid of" the older Emerson said with a rueful curve of his lips.

"I got a construction company" the man said, "gonna be startin' new builds up in Depoe Bay next month-"

What?

"-I've never built anything in my life, I'm not a builder-"

"-yeah, but you ain't a trash man neither" the man said with a shrug, "you obviously ain't work shy and I thought you might be interested…"

"….are you serious?"

The man nodded, "yeah. Always lookin' for talent-"

"-where's Depoe Bay?" Michael asked with a little frown.

"Up in Oregon" the man supplied, "nice change if you're wantin' it. Decent work, too"

"So why are you down in Santa Carla?" Michael asked, trying to keep his face a blank mask.

Oregon? He thought of him and Star in a little house in Oregon and shuffled in the sand a little. He loved Star with all his heart and the thought of having a job and having a life, providing for her...it made him happy. It made him feel good. They had spent the last few nights together in a little hotel up on the beach and it had felt so right, being with her. Just the two of them, eating together, watching TV and making love. She had asked him, shyly and nervously if they could spend some time alone together, told him that she had rented a little place. Seeing her look so vulnerable as she had invited him to stay with her, as she opened herself up to him, put herself out there to be rejected...Michael had never loved anyone more.

"My brother's the sap that hired you-" the man said, bringing Michael out of his pleasant memory.

Michael laughed a little and the man joined him, chuckling as he understood the reason behind the laughter, "yeah, yeah hired's a grand word-"

"-I got on the back of his truck-"

"-but he noticed you, gave me a heads up" the man shrugged and pulled out his wallet, an old but nice quality leather one, and then handed Michael his business card, "we're both outta Santa Carla. His contract's up with the city in a few weeks anyway-"

"-really?"

"-yeah, got outbid. City council only gives yearly contracts, wanna squeeze every penny they can outta us. Act like we ain't got families to feed and men that rely on us" the man shrugged again, "but hey, what can you do? Stagnate or-"

"-go to Depoe Bay with your brother, I guess" Michael said with a grin, taking the business card.

He looked down at the details and nodded as he considered the man's offer.

"...is this serious?" Michael asked again.

"Yeah" the man nodded, "have a think on it, kid.."

"…thank you" Michael replied with a nod, slipping the card into the pocket of his jeans.

"You really don't notice anything weird about Santa Carla?" Edgar asked, throwing down his copy of Werewolves Beyond the Graves 3 as he watched Sammy flick through the monthly listing for the cinema at the multiplex they had visited a few nights ago.

"Nu-uh" Sam said, not taking his eyes off the shiny brochure, "just you two"

He'd really enjoyed their sleepover, which was...unexpected. He'd thought that his new friends would be weird and he'd be phoning Grandpa by 8:30 but no. They'd ordered pizza and watched TV and read comics. He'd even seen a few really rare editions that the Frog Brother's parents had hidden away. It had been fun. Genuinely and honestly fun. Sometimes they said strange things, sometimes Edgar would insist on nudging the conversation towards the supernatural but even those moments had been few and far between - he'd had a great time.

He had friends, weird though they were.

"Funny" Alan said, drumming his fingers on the glass counter he was leaning against.

"But true" Sam shrugged.

"Does your brother notice anything weird about Santa Carla?" Edgar asked.

"Nah, just you two"

"Funny" Alan repeated, "how about your sister?"

"She's none of your business" Sam replied. The last thing he wanted was one of these clowns flirting with his sister, "but if I had to guess, I'd day yes. She does. She really, really does..."

"Really?" Edgar sat up with an embarrassing eagerness.

"Yeah" Sam said, finally making eye contact with the camouflaged boy, "...you"

Edgar sighed.

"You wanna see this? Could be good, 'fast-paced action'?" Sam nodded with a smile as he spoke. He was definitely in the mood for an action movie. No blood or guts or damsels screaming.

"Yeah, whatever" Alan said, "I'm down"

"Oh, look. Coupon" Sam waved the brochure at them, "free popcorn.." he skimmed the words, "awesome, limit of four per-"

"We're a trio" Edgar said, his voice firm.

"Well let me finish?" Sam said with a roll of his eyes.

"You said four"

"I said there's a limit of four per-"

"-we're a trio. That's three"

"Oh my God would you let me finish!? Limit of four-"

"Ken. We're three!"

"Jesus!" Sam looked at Alan for back up but the quieter sibling just shrugged with a half smile. For a second, Sam thought Alan knew his brother was insufferable but was just bearing with it. He thought he wouldn't get any back up, so he continued "the coupon has a limit of four popcorns" Edgar opened his mouth and Sam spoke harder, "so with this one coupon we can get four popcorns. That's one popcorn each-"

"-and one to share" Alan nodded.

"Jeeze" Edgar snorted, looking at his brother with over exaggerated, wide eyes. It was as if he thought Sam was utterly insane, "I'm not stupid-"

"-you're plenty stupid"

Edgar sighed and leaned forward, swiping the brochure clean out of Sam's hands. He barely glanced down at it but he had found something else, "let's watch this instead?"

"No way" Sam said quickly. He didn't even need to ask what it was.

"It looks good!"

"No horror" Sam shook his head, "I'm serious. You choose last time-"

"-this isn't horror" Edgar insisted.

"I'm not stupid either" Sam shook his head, "I know you. It clearly says horror"

"Where?" Edgar frowned down at the brochure and Sam sighed. He reached over and pointed to the white font on top of a red circle that, as he had said, clearly spelled horror. It was scary how well he knew Edgar, even after such a short time, "why are you such a horror addict?"

"We can see the action" Alan said, shooting a look at his brother.

"but..but-"

"-it's fine.."

Edgar frowned at Alan but Sam had already taken back the brochure and was looking down at it.

"We need to train him" Edgar mouthed at Alan.

"Be patient" Alan mouthed back.

"We going tonight?" Sam asked, looking up and blinking when both boys jerked their heads towards him.

"What?" Edgar looked at Sam with a surprised grin.

"You said today is slow-"

"-totally!" Edgar nodded, "We'll shut at six-"

"-you really wanna hang with us tonight, too?" Alan asked.

"Yeah?" Sam shrugged.

"Really?" Alan prodded.

"Dude yeah" Sam replied. He didn't want them to make a big fuss over it. It was embarrassing, sometimes, how excited they got when he agreed to or suggested something. It was like they were desperate for friends or desperate for something he never could put his fingers on.

"-and you'll help us stock today?" Edgar asked.

"I said I would.." Sam shrugged again. He'd offered to help them out in their shop last night, it had seemed like a good idea at the time and now, in the light of day, it still seemed like a good idea.

Why not?

"Your Mom's cool with it?"

"She's out" Sam said "but she'd be happy I have friends"

Edgar grinned, "comrades!"

"What?"

"We're brothers in arms. Comrades!" Edgar said with a grin and Sam sighed, "...sure we are"

"Wanna stay over tonight, too?" Alan asked, glancing at the locked door of the shop.

They would have to open soon.

"Nah" Sam shook his head, "I wanna hang with Liz for a bit-"

"-why?"

"because she's my sister?" Sam replied.

He was definitely going to get lunch with Liz tomorrow, he told himself firmly. He was having fun with the Frog Brothers, weird though they were, but he wouldn't abandon his sister. He'd hang out with his friends today because that made sense. He was already with them. He wasn't going to turn into Michael and just ditch his family whenever he felt like it...he'd see Liz tonight, if she was still up after the movie and if she wasn't, they'd get lunch tomorrow.

It's wasn't like she couldn't handle a day by herself.

"What's that got to do with anything?" Alan asked.

"Yeah? He's my brother" Edgar said, jerking his thumb towards Alan.

"Yeah, and you're hanging out together" Sam said, "I wanna do the same for my sister"

"Why?"

"...because I love her?-"

"-ugh, barf-"

"-and I worry about her.."

"Why?"

"I'm gonna rethink our friendship if this is the level of conversation" Sam said with a grin and a shake of his head.

"Oh, sorry Master of the Conversation" Alan said with a grin of his own.

"Why are you worried?" Edgar nudged.

"You know...Mike being..." Sam shook his head. Truthfully, the more he thought about it...the more he thought he was in the wrong. Just a little...but in the wrong all the same. Maybe Liz was right, he wasn't so weird recently, "...my brother was a bit off, got a new girl or whatever so if I'm not home that means Liz is home alone and that kinda sucks, you know?"

"In Santa Carla, that's a good thing" Alan said seriously.

"What?" Sam asked with a shake of his head. What was good about being alone and what did Santa Carla have to do with anything?

"Oh ho!" Edgar laughed, "now who's a shitty conversationalist?!"

"You're impossible" Sam said with a laugh.

Edgar nodded.

"So...open, close around six and then catch a movie?" Sam said, bringing their conversation back to where they had left it.

"Sounds good, man" Alan said with a nod.

"Yeah, cool" Edgar added.

Sam sighed, "neither of you are cool"

"But you like us!" Alan smiled.

"yeah, you do!" Edgar laughed, "you're one of us, Ken!"

"...guys, come on" Sam laughed with a shake of his head.

They were absolute head cases.

"So tell us about this girl..." Edgar asked casually as he stood and began removing some comics from a cluttered stand.

"What girl?" Sam said, moving to help.

"Your brother's girlfriend"

"Ugh, I have no idea" Sam said with a shake of his head, "but he's got a piercing...and he kept sleeping in late. I mean, recently..he's been OK, I guess..."

Elizabeth sat on the kitchen table, her bare feet resting on one of the chairs. She didn't know what to do with herself. She had sat on the sofa, moved to sit on the stairs and then moved again to sit at the kitchen table. Every room she went to felt horribly empty, everywhere she sat she felt exposed.

It had been horrible, each passing second seemed to tick by with painstaking slowness.

Grandpa's workroom was locked and the house was utterly silent. There were no notes or jotted memos by the phone or near the keys and, judging by the bowls drying on the rack near the sink, it looked like two people had eaten breakfast. She must have missed them. She wondered who it had been...Michael and Sammy? Or did Grandpa have two bowls? It seemed like something he would do. She had tried to imagine what cereal he would have chosen to eat it, tried to think what he would use if there was no milk in the fridge, how he would scoop the cereal if the house was devoid of all cutlery...she had tried to think of anything, anything other than vampires and how alone she was.

When that failed, she had moved to the fridge but even thinking about eating made her stomach roll in warning. She thought about trying to force herself to eat but absolutely nothing appealed to her. There was nothing she was even slightly tempted to try.

She had moved to sit at the table after looking in the fridge but her skin erupted into goosebumps - her back had been facing the large kitchen door.

Anyone..anything could have been behind her. She had jumped onto the table itself instead and stared at the door with a frown.

She had been there since, biting at the skin around her thumb, trying not to think, trying to shut down her mind, trying to watch the hands of the cuckoo clock.

She jumped when the trill of the phone suddenly broke the silence crushing down on her.

"Mom?" Elizabeth said, her voice a pained, hopeful whisper. She threw herself off the table and ran for the phone, picking it up desperately.

"Hello?" Elizabeth said, clutching the phone receiver tightly.

"Lizzie?"

She closed her eyes and bit her lips as Grandpa's voice, his wonderful, energetic, familiar and warm voice crackled down the receiver.

"Yeah, it's me. Hey Grandpa" she held the receiver harder, "where..where are you? You sound far away..."

He felt it, too.

"I'm doing some shopping, kiddo. Gonna cook for The Widow Johnson tonight-"

"-will you come home?" she asked, her voice cracking a little.

"No, wasn't planning on it, Lizzie...why? Are you OK?"

"Oh yeah..yeah, no I-'" Elizabeth said, closing her eyes tightly and trying to keep her voice steady, trying to think of something to say.

"-I'll come home-" he said immediately.

"-no, no" she said, knuckles white. She didn't want to ruin his day and what could she possibly say to him? God, she wanted to see him so badly but what could she say, how could she let him know how torn, destroyed she felt without telling him why. It that moment she knew. She really was alone, "just..I have a really bad period"

"Really?"

"Yeah"

"Under the sink is that box of powdered bleach. It's yellow and faded? It's empty. That's where I keep my chocolates-"

Elizabeth barked a little laugh, smiling tightly. Of course that's where he hid his stash of chocolates.

"-now you just help yourself. Don't tell your brothers though. And upstairs in the linen closet - the mice aren't real, don't be spooked - that's where I keep my collection of hot water bottles and electric blankets, so you just help yourself to those, too and you know what? I stocked the cupboards, go check the downstairs toilet - there's everything, I bought out the store when Lucy said you were coming. Don't be shy-"

She'd told him about her fake period and straight away, without even pausing he had jumped into everything that he thought could comfort her, help her. He was just so thoughtful, so kind, so unflappable...

She took a shuddering breath.

"-thank you, Grandpa"

"Lizzie, you sure you're OK?"

"Yeah" she wiped at her eyes, "just...painful and um.." she swallowed, "emotional"

"The Widow get's 'em bad, too" Grandpa said with sympathy in his voice.

"What?" Elizabeth said with a little wet laugh, hoping he didn't really know how close to breaking down she was.

"Oh yeah, terrible cramps"

Surely the Widow was way past menopause?

"Grandpa?"

He chuckled a little, "yeah, kid, I'm just yanking your chain. But I raised a daughter, so tell me if I can help, OK?"

Elizabeth nodded before remembering he couldn't actually see her, "Yeah, OK. I will"

"Promise?"

"Promise"

"Lizzie? I know I'm an old man but you can talk to me about anything at all. I'm here for you, OK, kiddo?"

He spoke so fluidly and with such confidence, Elizabeth froze for a moment. He sounded so knowing...

"...Liz? Hello?"

"Sorry. Yeah, thank you Grandpa"

What else could she say?

"Don't mention it. Your brother home?"

"Um, no. Nope..neither of them are..." she pursed her lips, pulling her mouth into a tight, wrinkled grimace as she tried to control her flood of emotions.

Isolation, desperation, love, fear.

"Yeah, I saw Michael this morning. I meant your other one, could you let him know Nanook's with me?"

"Oh. Sure..that's why you were calling?"

"Mhmm"

"When he comes home, I'll let him know" she promised.

Her hand was starting to hurt, clenched tightly around the phone as it was.

"Thanks, kid. Say, the Widow isn't listed, let me give you her number-"

"I'm-"

"-pick up a pen, would you?" he said, his voice warm, "and if you need stronger medicine or something, you just let me know and I'll come back. Sound good?"

The line crackled again.

"Sounds good" she said, closing her eyes, her voice tight.

He felt so, so far away.

She moved her free hand, readying herself to pick up one of the many pens stuffed in an old, cat shaped pen holder...and froze as she saw three crescent shaped cuts in her palm.

She stared at the thick, red droplets of blood pooling down and around them.

She hadn't felt anything as her nails had cut into her skin.

"Ok. Eight. That's e for elephant, i for ice, g for goat, h for house, t for tennis. Three. That's t for toe, h for hill, r for reef-"

Elizabeth didn't bother to wipe the tear that fell from her eye.