Lawrence stood at the foot of the freshly turned grave. The rain was coming down in sheets as midnight approached, but even so, he felt he needed to be here. He hadn't eaten in days, and sleep was impossible.

The knowledge of Adam's death had opened up a whole new world of questions about the afterlife, a subject that had never before even piqued his curiosity. Where was Adam now, if he was "anywhere" at all? Was this really all there was to life? Was there anything to look forward to? Was there anything to fear?

He had the sinking feeling that his quest for the answers was nothing more than a sick attempt to alleviate his own guilt and torment for not keeping his promise to Adam. Thunder began to rumble overhead, and a quick flash illuminated the sky.

Strange, he thought. Never before would he be caught in a rainstorm in the middle of the night. But being here now made him feel… alive. The cold rain pelted down, and he was soaked, but it didn't matter. Adam would never feel the rain again, and such a thought made Lawrence understand that even though he would gladly trade places with Adam, even if to only appease his own guilt, he was still glad to be here in this moment.

Adam. He stared at the name on the grave marker. Adam was nothing more than a memory, and Lawrence had done what he had set out to do all along. Adam was out, Adam was free, yet as Lawrence turned away, he couldn't help but feel he was abandoning him all over again.

I can't live like this, Lawrence thought. What am I going to do?

He knelt down, his knees sinking into the wet ground.

What am I going to do?

The rain poured down all around him, and he knew that Allison was waiting for him. He couldn't spend his life at the foot of Adam's grave, regretting something over which he had had no control. He had been told that Adam's death wasn't his fault, that it was "Jigsaw's", but Lawrence never could bring himself to let it go. He harbored the burden of guilt. To not do so would be tantamount to selling Adam short.

He heaved a sigh as he rose to his feet, his hands and face numb from the cold rain. He had to go, even though he knew a part of him would always be here watching over Adam. If only he had done something different along the way. Moved faster. Acted smarter. Been more determined. But he knew Alison and Diana were waiting for him at home, and he couldn't spend his life pining for the departed.

Turning from Adam's grave was like being torn from himself, and he didn't hold back the tears as he was overcome by them. He could feel the pain, the numbness, the stinging, harsh reality in his body. He had never felt this sick with grief before. Without looking back, he walked to his car parked alongside the road. His heart screamed in pain as he sat there, a lost, broken man.

The next thing he knew, streams of blinding light roused him from a deep sleep. He sat up, gaining a sense of where he was, and groaned as he turned to relieve the crick in his neck.

He quickly sped off and within minutes, he was approaching his driveway. He had to park on the street, as a blue Honda was parked in this driveway. Grabbing his briefcase from the passenger's seat, he saw that the plates on the strange car were out of state. Wondering who his wife was entertaining, he made his way to the front door.

He found Allison sitting in the living room with an older man and woman. Even though he had never met these people, he instantly knew who they were.

Allison turned to greet Lawrence. "Honey, where have you been? I was so worried."

Larry set down his coat and case. "Sorry, I fell asleep in the car."

Allison eyed him curiously, but didn't ask the questions Larry knew were dancing in her mind. Turning to the guests, she said, "Larry, this Bob and Margaret Faulkner."

Larry extended his hand. "Pleased to meet you."

Margaret, a heavyset woman holding a handkerchief, shook Larry's hand. "I'm so sorry for what you've been through."

Larry's insides tightened as he shook hands with Adam's father, who looked like an older version of Adam.

"I'm sorry about your son," Larry said, knowing that he alone understood their pain.

"We don't want to impose," Bob spoke up. "We just came to give you this." He handed Larry a large brown envelope.

Perplexed, Larry took the envelope and stared at it.

"Well, we'd better be on our way," said Bob.

"Thanks for stopping by," said Allison. "You're welcome here anytime."

Their voices faded as Larry made his way to the kitchen to examine the envelope. What could it be? He found his pulse quickening as he turned it over and over in his hands before breaking the seal. He removed the contents from the package to find a vast collection of photos.

Of Adam.

Lawrence was filled with gratitude and an overwhelming sense of loss as he studied the photos. His vision blurred as tears swelled up. There were photos of Adam as a child, happy and carefree, there were several school photos, but there were few recent ones. Maybe two or three from his early twenties. Strange, Lawrence thought. A photographer with few photos of himself. Still, having thought that images of Adam would only ever exist in his memory, tainted by grunge and fear of the bathroom, Lawrence felt blessed.

Lawrence quickly wiped his eyes when he heard Allie close the front door. Even though he could sense her standing nearby, neither said anything.

Lawrence replaced the photos in the envelope, fighting to maintain his composure.

"You have no idea how grateful they are to you, for going back there and uncovering the truth," Allie said.

His back to Allie, Lawrence hung his head, knowing that although it had been the right thing to do, it had been the most difficult thing he ever did. He considered Adam a friend, even though what little they had had been strained. Larry found himself wondering if Adam knew that he wasn't angry with him for following him. He had never intended to harm Adam, and he certainly never intended to leave him for dead.

They had only had less than a minute together, and nothing that should have been said was said. Lawrence had assumed that there'd be time for that later, after he had found help. He took Allie in his arms and broke down for what must have been the tenth time that weekend. He was grateful that he could still hold her, that he still had time to right the wrongs he had committed against her, and even though he would never forget Adam or their struggle, it was time to leave the bathroom and all its horrors behind and focus on his family.

Adam would have wanted it this way. And the thought of Adam being happy made him smile.