Hours later, Veronica was lying face-down in her bed. An eye cracked open, and she peered out the window. Dawn was breaking – but birds weren't singing.

She rationalized it. They were mourning, too.

It would make sense. By way of the news, all of Neptune should be dead inside about now. They'd be waking up, turning on the television to channel K16 news, and there Lilly's yearbook picture would be.

Beloved daughter, sister.

Friend.

As she spooned at her cheerios, Veronica wondered briefly of their reactions. Familiar faces scorched her brain.

Logan. Numb. Staring blankly at the wide screen, surround sound making sure he knew. Fisting pillows and sheets in his hands. Looking for a face to blame.

Duncan. Oh, Duncan. Mutely he sits, facing a wall. Shaking. Trembling. Terrified and silent. He saw it, too. He might've had a face already.

A dozen other people left nothing but nameless aquaintances.

They say the mind will erase parts of the memory to make room for the more important pieces.

Lilly was the puzzle.

Veronica tore apart her room searching for every polaroid, every letter signed in the same cursive dotted with flowers, the BFF bracelet she'd carelessly removed days before and simply tossed aside. She could hear mom and dad beckoning from the living room, calling out caresses.

She didn't respond. Couldn't. There were too many memories she had to find - save before they escaped and turned to ash. She couldn't let that happen. She wouldn't. Lilly would be so mad if she let her go like that.

Veronica could see her face so clearly, insulted and with a toss of her hair, Veronica Mars, how dare you forget me

The phone rang about three o'clock. Keith came in with the portable and stared down at his daughter. Veronica was trapped on all sides, surrounded by pitiful piles of momentos.

"…It's Logan."

Not the name she presumed. There was hesitation, before a hand stretched out to accept the phone.