The TV dumbly mumbled on its full volume, vivid images flashing on the small screen. Heath stared at it, not paying attention to the news. They gathered at Billy's house, Sammy with them, and were currently making a break from cards. Heath thoughtfully twisted the bottle between his fingers. Today were the seminars, but he decided not to go. The TV showed an image of a train accident. The ambulance was transporting the victims. Sighing, Heath grabbed the remote and switched the channel. The next channel was wildlife. Close front was a moose, behind the animal were rugged cliffs and the sea. Heath felt something clench inside him. He needed to calm himself down, immediately.

"I'm gonna go, Bill," Heath threw on the way to the man in the kitchen.

"Not staying for the next round?"

"No." Heath quietly closed the door behind him.

The dust scattered under her feet, clutching onto the hem of her dress and residing on her ankles. Winnifred didn't care. She just ran, ran, with only one thought ringing in her head: I knew it, I bloody knew it….

She ran into the door with full force, wildly grasping the handle. She knocked, but no one answered. Winnifred nervously chewed her lip, her adrenaline turning into anxiety. Why was no one answering?

Suddenly, the door she was currently breaking her knuckles on, flung open.

"Winnie!" Aunt Martha enclosed her into a suffocating bear hug. Winnifred gladly answered it, patting her aunt on the back.

"Oh my dear, you look...horrible!" Aunt Martha finally said, pulling away from her niece and examining her with a critical eye.

"Oh, auntie," Winnifred impatiently swatted her off, closing the door behind her. "Just because I ate a third of what I'd usually eat doesn't mean I'm going to die. C'mon, what's with Margaret?"

Aunt Martha sighed.

"Nothing good. Slight pneumonia. She's better now of course..."

Winnifred ignored her last words, instead racing up the stairs. Grabbing the shaky door knob, she skidded on the slippery rug and flung the door open.

"Margie!"

Margaret was standing next to the window, a Scottish checkered blanket over her shoulders. She turned around in surprise.

"Winnifred?" Her voice was husky, as if coming out from a weak throat. Winnifred silently hugged her. Margaret smirked.

"Auntie already told you my sad tale and how I'm standing one foot in the grave?" She sarcastically scoffed. Winnifred frowned.

"Nothing funny," she retorted. "You need rest."

She forcefully made Margaret to lie back in bed, then raced back into the kitchen, cursing the teapot for its slowness, then scurried back up again.

"Drink," she commanded, ignoring the scalding heat of the cup in her hands, and shoved it into Margaret's face.

"Some things never change," her cousin sighed and obediently took the cup with her blanket. She took a tiny sip, grimacing from the heat, and glanced up at Winnifred with squirmy eyes.

"So? How was it?" Margaret croaked. Winnifred shrugged, sitting on the tip of the bed. Winnifred looked away.

"What?" Margaret lowered the cup from her mouth. "Did something happen?"

"I and Jack had a very nice exchange about our past," Winnifred sighed. "Specifically about Heath,"

Winnifred took her jacket off and tossed it on the stool across the room. The jacket plopped right next to it. Swearing through her teeth, Winnifred picked it up and dropped it on the stool.

Margaret was quiet for a moment, then lowered back again into the pillows, pressing the cup against her lips. Winnifred thought that she should go shower, but somewhere all her strength hid in some previously unknown nooks. Margaret reached for a camera lying next to her bed and handed her over to Winnifred.

"What's this for?" she asked in surprise.

"To cheer you up," Margaret responded with a sly grin. "Unlike you, I've been taking photos."

Winnifred smirked and turned the camera on. An image instantly popped on on the screen. Winnifred thoughtfully looked at the photo of a moose, wandering right at foot of the waves, faraway cliffs rising behind him. Her thumb absently rubbed the button, then lightly pressed on it. After him was a photo of a little raccoon, caught while scavenging through their backpacks. Winnifred frustratingly dug her nail into the button, scrolling the photos back, skipping the enormous collection of scenery. Cliffs, lakes, pines, valleys, gorges, mountains, ocean, sailboat, Margaret, poor lit party room...Winnifred abruptly lifted her thumb off the button. Heath, Billy, Charlotte, and her brightly grinned at her from the photo.

"God damn you Billy, you stepped on my foot!"

"Whoops." That one tugged Charlotte along with Winnifred with his arm. His awkward movement wrinkled the cloth on their backs.

"Are you fucking ready yet?" Sammy impatiently tapped the camera, glancing from above.

"How come I always hold the camera?"

"Be careful, don't drop it," Winnifred rose her brows in warning, hands, positioned behind Billy and Charlotte's backs, itching to get her camera from Sammy. Heath chuckled.

"You're not pretty enough," he joked, nodding towards Sammy. Charlotte broadly grinned.

Winnifred slowly pressed the button again. Heath, Johnathan, and her flashed on the screen. They were in front of some sort of mechanical construction, hidden behind the glass.

"Take the glasses off, Johnathan, you look better without them," Heath ordered, staring at the camera.

"And don't forget to properly smile," Winnifred added, glancing sideways at him. Johnathan didn't look at her, but his hand slowly clenched into a fist and slightly hit her on her back.

Winnifred grinned, looking at the photograph. It was one of her favorites. Johnathan both took off his glasses, and smiled, which made him look much more menacing. The tenth graders were having a field trip to a science museum lost somewhere in the middle of the plains fifteen miles away from the outskirts. The teachers didn't trust themselves enough to handle a horde of wild, reckless, absolutely and completely unredeemable high schoolers, so they asked for some adult volunteers. Fair enough. Heath and Winnifred brought Johnathan, rarely compliant those days. His mere presence was enough to quiet down the entire grade. Well, except two. But those don't count.

For a while, it was quiet in their bedroom, one woman observing the photograph, while the other one observed her.

"We're leaving in five days, you know that right?" Margaret finally said.

"I know."

"Kind of unbelievable, right?"

"A little."

"Did you miss them?" Margaret thought she heard a suppressed sigh.

"Honestly, I never got a chance to. Is that bad?" She craned her neck to look at Margaret. Her cousin chuckled at Winnifred's naively worried face.

"It's normal. You guys needed a break from each other."

"God knows how Heath will kill me," Winnifred mumbled to herself, closing her eyes.

"Just the thought of Browning makes him furious."

"And you spent an entire week with him," Margaret added, vainly holding back a laugh.

"Might as well order tombstone flowers right now," Winnifred whispered, mind already inundated in sleep. Margaret smiled and tucked her fully inside the bed.

A/N Almost done with Maine! I honestly should wrap up with it, before Heath completely loses his mind from depression! ;)

Thanks for reading!