It feels just like when our child died. But Leana doesn't scream. She just falls silent and watches the sky with glazed over eyes. She does the D6 gesture and paints a flower on D12's face. Boom. Her cannon fires. That's when I break down. So I do the only thing I think of. I run. I run away from my now empty life, away from this cruel country, away from the terrible memories, away from pain, away from drugs, and away from the world. I just run and run. I'm old, but I just keep on running. And when I reach the fence, I see no point in life. So I turn back and run to the house. I open my drawer and take out the morphling. I jab the needle in my arm. One dose. Two doses. Three doses. Most I've ever done before is one needle. How much does it take? Four doses. Five doses. Six doses. Seven doses. And rest finally comes. Not sleep, not slumber, not a high on these drugs. No, true peace. The world around me fades, and I know no one here cares if I die. The odds weren't in our favor. They never are. The world blacks out and suddenly I'm in a colorful meadow with Leana and Tara. No pain here, just love and life in death. Here, I can be with my family. Always.