I don't actually remember much of the funeral. I think I made a speech, but I couldn't tell you what I said. Honestly, the only part I do remember clearly is the part everyone knows about: Tobias carrying off Rachel's urn at the end.

I still think that was the best possible way to honor her.

The press was crazy, and I think I read somewhere that there were more than fifty thousand people in attendance, with many more who couldn't make it in. A security detail had to escort us out to keep us from being mobbed by the media, and I ended up walking by Marco.

None of us had really talked much since the end of the war. I knew all of our parents were working on finding apartments or houses—Jake's parents were planning to take him and go stay with family, and Rachel's mom was looking at houses. Mine were looking for an apartment for the time being, until the business insurance got cleared up.

I looked over at Marco, trying to smile. "So. What's next?"

Marco looked a little sheepish. "Well. We're big news, you know. I've got more offers than I know what to do with. I'm doing Good Morning, America tomorrow, then Oprah the day after. I've got this big interview thing where all the news networks are going to talk to me in a row. The producers of Baywatch are interested in talking a deal for me to play a shark in the next season." He grinned at me. "So I've got this plan. Kelly Packard will be there, and I'm this shark, right, and she gets into trouble in the water, and—"

I laughed—for real this time, and not just hysterically. "Marco, you're an idiot." But I said it fondly, in a way. After all this time, he was sort of like a brother. An annoying brother, but a brother.

His smile caught a little before he put it back on. "Careful, Cassie. You sounded like Rachel there. You start letting her possess you, and the next thing you know, you'll be wearing designer jeans…"

I snorted a little at that. It felt good to laugh, it felt almost a little normal.

Whatever normal meant these days.

"What about you, Cassie?" he asked. "I mean, you must be getting swamped with requests too. God knows what they must be doing to Jake."

I shrugged a little. My mom had mentioned something about media people calling, but I hadn't paid much attention. "I don't know. School, I guess."

Marco laughed at that too. "Right. So, subject of your next essay: 'How I spent my summer saving the world, by Cassie Price, age 16'?"

I rolled my eyes but found myself grinning. Marco does that, he lightens the mood when you need it the most. "It's not a bad idea, actually—writing something. Just think about what it would do if people could really understand endangered species. It might make them want to actually do something to protect them."

Marco groaned dramatically. "Cassie, Cassie, come on! Don't add to the world's collection of books kids have to read in school."

"Some of us do read occasionally." I'd even enjoyed some of the books we read in school. The Giver was pretty good, and I liked Fahrenheit 451 too. Though honestly, I hadn't done much of the required reading in the last couple of years, just enough to keep from failing out.

I stopped suddenly for a half step, before catching back up. "What's wrong?" asked Marco.

I didn't answer at first. I wasn't sure Marco would understand. Or maybe I was afraid he would, and didn't want to be the one to say it.

"I just realized that what topic to choose for my essay or what classes I should take…that's going to matter again." It had all seemed so unimportant for so long, in comparison with everything else. We'd all tried to keep up with our homework enough, but that was to keep our parents from grounding us and interfering with our fight against the Yeerks.

Marco looked at me with that shrewd look of his, the one where you remember that the dumb, goofy act he does is just an act. "You mean, you're realizing that we aren't going to be making all those live-or-die decisions. I thought you'd be happy about that."

"I am. It's just…different."

Marco shrugged and grinned. "Yeah. Good different, though. We've got three years of catching up on not doing anything useful. Live a little, Cassie! Hug a tree. Save a duck. Whatever."

I hesitated outside the door to the barracks where Jake and his parents were staying. What was I going to say? What was there to say?

I finally rolled my eyes at myself. I'd faced down Visser One, and a door was too much for me? I raised my hands and knocked.

Jake's dad was the one who answered the door. He nodded at me, and called into the room for Jake, who'd been staring out the window. It took a moment, but he stood up and came to the door.

I didn't mean to, but I stared at him. Have you ever played with the color settings on your TV, and turned a full color program into a black and white one? That was what he reminded me of. He looked so listless, so out of it. And he also looked like he hadn't combed his hair in about three days.

I forced myself to stop staring, and jerked my head a little for him to walk with me. I figured it'd be easier if we weren't just looking at each other.

Jake and I were close for years. After Rachel, I'd have said he was my best friend. And for some time, he'd been my boyfriend. But that was over now, even if we'd never actually said it was. The war was heaviest on Jake, I think. He was our leader, he was the one who'd made the hardest calls. He was the one who'd have to bear the responsibility.

He was the one who ordered Rachel to her death.

And I'd made the decision to let the Yeerk in his brother's head take the morphing cube. That had accelerated the war, and it was probably what forced him to kill Tom.

I think we'd both done what we thought was the right thing, but there are some things that a relationship won't survive.

"We're leaving tomorrow, to stay with Aunt Ellen and Uncle George," he said finally.

I nodded. I'd met them once, briefly, although we were all busy with other issues at the time. "That's good." It sounded dumb even in my head, and dumber when I said it. "Mom and Dad found an apartment. Just a temporary one, they're going to wait until some insurance stuff gets figured out so they can rebuild the clinic."

Jake nodded too and we walked on in silence. The barracks Doubleday had arranged for us was mostly empty, although there were guards outside to keep the press from bothering us.

I knew I had to be the one to say something, but for a long time, I couldn't find the words. Finally, I just started talking. "Jake, I think you did the best you could." He opened his mouth to interrupt, but I kept talking. "No, I mean that. I know you messed up. So did I. So did Tobias and Marco and Ax—and yeah, even Rachel. We all screwed up. And I know you're going to think, Well, I was the leader, it was my decision. And yeah, maybe that's true. But we all followed. At every step, we kept putting you in charge. So it wasn't just you either."

I stopped and turned to face him. "Jake, Rachel was my best friend. I'm mad at you for what you did, and I'm mad you didn't tell us so we could say good-bye. But I also know why you did it. Just…try and forgive yourself someday, all right?"

Jake looked down and away, and I knew what he was thinking. He was thinking, I don't want to forgive myself. And I understood that too. I understood, because when you forgive yourself, you have to realize what kind of person you are. You have to realize that you're just as kill-or-be-killed, just as ruthless, just as capable of hate and cruelty as anyone else.

I knew he wasn't ready, though. Maybe he never would be. Instead, I stepped in and hugged him, close and tightly. He stiffened for a moment, and for a second, I thought he might punch me on instinct, like I had with my mom. But then he leaned into it, and wrapped his arms around me. For a long time, we just stayed like that, and I could feel we were both crying.

But eventually, Jake was the one who pulled away, forcing a smile. "You take care, Cassie."

I nodded, and smiled back, and I knew we'd never be this close again. "You too, Jake."