Olivia pulled on the dead woman's blazer and forced herself upright. She pulled her hair back and looked for anything that could get her a car. Her purse was gone. She could call Gregory's driver. She rested her hand on the phone and tried to remember the number. Her mind was still tired, exhausted from her ordeal. Dr. Robinson was going to kill her when she got back, but only getting to Gregory mattered. She smoothed her blazer and gasped in pain when her finger ran across the scar in the center of her stomach. It was a single vertical incision that run a few inches but everything around it was sore. Breathing too quickly hurt.

"Sam?" Someone grabbed her arm and whipped her around. Pain lanced through her stomach.

Olivia gasped and struggled to keep her balance. The stranger grabbed her arms and kept her upright. "Sam- what are you doing out of bed?"

Shaking her head as she looked up into the face staring at her, Olivia repeated the strange name. "Sam? Who's Sam?"

"Samantha, my wife. This is her room." He grabbed her chin roughly and tilted her head up to look at her face. "This is her suit."

Shaking her head as the horror of his identity hit her, Olivia started to pull away but she didn't have the strength. "I borrowed it."

The stranger had soft blue eyes that were harsh with pain. "It was you." He dropped her hands and took a step back.

Olivia sank against the bed, left off-balance by the sudden release she nearly collapsed. The stranger caught her hands again, apologizing as he settled her down to sit on the bed. "You were the one they thought was her, weren't you? The one who's family thought you were dead."

His wedding ring was hand against the skin of her wrist, reminding her painfully of Gregory. "You look remarkably like her." He whispered as he seared her face into his mind before looking away.

"I have to go." Olivia pushed off the bed and started towards the door.

"I'm no doctor." He was a step behind her in case she fell again. "But I think you need to stay here unless you hurt yourself."

"I have to find my husband-" Chocking on her pain, Olivia caught the edge of the doorway for support. "He doesn't know I'm alive."

The stranger was too stunned to ask what was so horrible about that. Her eyes said everything he needed to know. "If I can't stop you, can I come with you?"

Nodding quickly, Olivia took a step out of the room as she waited for her adrenaline to chase the pain away long enough to do what she had to do. "Do you have a car?"

The keys jingled in his hand and he took her arm gallantly. "I do actually and believe it or not-" His voice caught bitterly in his throat. "I don't have any plans today, or tomorrow, or for the rest of my life."

He led her into the parking lot, keeping his grip on her arm. Olivia closed her eyes to keep the tears back. She couldn't waste her strength on emotion. "I am sorry."

"Sorry you lived?" He laughed softly, even smiling a little. "I wouldn't say that." He unlocked her side of his rental car and helped her into it. "Sam wouldn't want that."

"Sam's short for Samantha?" Looking down at her hands, she heard him get into the car next to her.

He nodded as he started the car and pulled out of his spot in the lot. "Samantha's too long."

"My husband calls me Liv." Olivia offered gently as she pointed to the left. "Turn here."

"Liv-" He thought for a moment. "Olivia?" He took his hand off the wheel and offered it to her. "David. David Parish from Ironwood-" He caught her confused look and smiled. "Michigan. About as far from sunny Southern California as you can get."

"Right here onto that service road." She directed as she shook his hand. "Olivia Richards."

"Good, now that we know each other you can tell me where I'm going." David settled in to wait for her story. It was good to have something to do. To be needed by someone, even if he was a temporary substitute. It kept him from facing the naked truth of his wife's death. The demon waiting for him at the end of the road.

The sun crept lower in the doorway to the mausoleum. Like a fickle lover, it caressed it's way down the marble without really warming him. Nothing felt warm anymore. Gregory sighed and touched his chest lightly. His heart beat inside of his chest because it had been too foolish to stop. How could it have kept going? Why had his body forced him to take matters into his own hands?

Gregory's eyes wandered to her side of the mausoleum. "I'll be waiting for you when you arrive Olivia. You won't have to spend any more time alone. Neither of us will." He lifted the syringe like a dagger, resting his thumb on the plunger as he contemplated his chest. The trick was to miss his ribs and sink the needle into his heart in one, swift blow.

His notes to his children were in his will. Bette knew how he felt. Everything was neatly tied up the way he liked it. All he needed was Olivia and he was getting her back. He was moments from getting her back. Gregory ran through his life, forcing the orderly recollection of his memories instead of the mad-cap rush of folklore. Childhood, countless thoughts of school, his parents, his relatives, his teachers, then professors, college girlfriends, peers and rivals-

Olivia eclipsed it all. Her smile, the way she could whisper "I love you" when she was entirely out of breath, her anger, her passion, the dimples in the small of her back above the curves of her butt. Everything. She was everything. And then there was her death. The gaping wound of her absence wouldn't heal. It wouldn't ease, it wouldn't diminish. Each moment compounded the horrible indignity that he lived while she was dead.

He drew back his hand and smiled at the needle clenched in his fist. This was right.

David had barely stopped the car and she was running up the hill towards the mausoleum. Olivia had been so pale in the car, he'd worried about her passing out before they even got to the cemetery she was so desperate to reach. When she saw the white marble, it didn't seem to matter what was between her and her husband.

Watching her rush up the grass, David couldn't blame her. If there was a chance, no matter how remote that Sam was alive up there he'd be right bedside her. Instead, he sank down into the warm grass at the foot of a gravestone. The rock was warm with the midday sun and he didn't have anywhere else to be. Nowhere to go but an empty house. He closed his eyes and leaned back into the comfort of the sunshine. "Sam- I think I'm going to get a dog, like we talked about-"

After the light of the sun, Olivia's eyes had trouble adjusting to the darkness of the mausoleum. It was the smell that accosted her first as she stumbled up to the doorway. Lilies, hundreds of them, had to be inside. He must have bought them. The darkness stung her eyes as she tried to force them to see. Shapes came first. A man, his back to her, something in his hand-

"Gregory-"

Sunlight lanced into his eyes as he turned around. Shock tightened his fingers, the voice was familiar. It was- but it couldn't be. It was a hallucination. Just like the apparition in the doorway. Her hair was on fire and it haloed her in shadow. She was beautiful. Heavenly beautiful.

He smiled at her, letting his vision carry him away. "Hello sweetheart." With all the strength in him, Gregory plunged the syringe into his chest.