Chapter Thirty-Three:

Open Your Eyes

Sam didn't own much black. It had never really been an issue until she had to dress for a funeral and the most appropriate thing she had was a black faux-leather jacket and stretchy black yoga pants. She had stared blankly into her Mom's closet, looking over the rows of neat dresses and sweaters and blouses. This was pointless. Why would it matter what she wore to a funeral? The people whose opinions she cared about weren't going to be there. Even their bodies wouldn't be there.

Finally, she had yanked the first black things she saw off the rack and put them on. A black dress with thick straps, slightly too long for her taste, and a black cardigan. She had black tights of her own, at least, but she grabbed a pair of low-heeled black pumps from the shoe rack on the floor.

She had wanted to wear purple. Hannah liked purple. She had a lavender skirt printed with roses that her friend had always threatened to steal, though it would be too short for Hannah's long legs. Or she could wear blue, for Beth. She had wanted to wear Beth's sweater—the one Sam had stolen a month back that still smelled like her. Of course, since she couldn't even look at the sweater without her heart palpitating and her hands starting to shake, it was probably for the best that she was forced into black by convention.

Everyone had been there, scattered throughout the pews. Sam had spotted Ashley sitting near a pillar. Between her red hair and black turtleneck, her face seemed impossibly pale. Near the very back, Jess sat next to Matt, looking like she hadn't slept in weeks. Josh sat in the front, silent and unsettlingly still between his parents.

It was an odd funeral, not that Sam had had much to compare it to. There were no bodies. Technically the search hadn't really been closed, but after this long, it seemed impossible that either of them was alive.

Sam had found that time moved strangely. It would seem to drag for ages and then suddenly leap by in a flash. She remembered only snapshots: Bob giving a short, clipped speech, Melinda's dead eyes, Josh sliding into the seat next to her reeking of whiskey and slurring his words as he made snide comments about hiking and drinking games and Wizard of Oz. She remembered Josh standing up and sweeping an elaborate bow, thanking everyone for being there to pretend they cared about his sisters. She remembered him howling with laughter at his own lame joke—"Is it too cold in here? I can turn up the heat for everyone. It practically feels like winter up North!"—while tears ran freely down his cheeks; Bob grabbed him and pulled him outside.

By contrast, Chris's funeral went off without a hitch.

At least one thing did, Sam thought dully, staring at the back of Ashley's head and messing with the hem of the borrowed dress. She hadn't thought, when she'd taken it off after the twins' funeral, that she would be wearing it for another one less than two years later. It itched slightly. She hated it.

As people began to go up to the closed casket to pay their respects, Ashley slipped out the side door. Sam locked eyes with Matt, who nodded meaningfully towards the door after her. Excusing herself, Sam hurried down the hall, trying to guess which way Ash had gone.

She finally found her in an indented section of the wall, squeezed between the corner and a jutting drinking fountain. Sam had expected her to be crying, but her eyes were dry as she gazed dully at the wall across from her.

"Hey Ash," Sam said softly.

The girl started. "Oh. Hey Sam. Do you—do you need something?"

"Only to make sure you're okay."

Ashley giggled, then clapped her hand over her mouth. "Wow. Sorry. Ignore that." She looked at Sam for a minute, then slowly lowered her hand. "Do you think if I go back to the mountain, he'll be there?"

"I—no. I don't think so."

"Yeah. Me neither." Ashley didn't sound grieved so much as purely exhausted, as if she'd already cried all her tears and come out the other side drained. Sam wished she could have seen her more after they'd come back down, but everything had been a whirlwind and she'd barely been able to see anyone. "I tried to convince myself that I might be able to find him, you know? Like Hannah or the thing in the graveyard or whatever. But he wasn't buried there. And he wasn't connected to the mountain like Hannah and Beth. Maybe… maybe it's better. He'll get to rest. Right?"

Sam leaned against the wall, giving Ash space to come out of her little nook, and their hands found each other, squeezing tightly. "Right." She thought back to the three figures in white and suppressed a shudder. Were the Washingtons at rest? Or were they still there? It helped that everyone else had seen the ghosts at least once—it was harder to think she had just been hallucinating when there were lots of other witnesses to back her up.

"I just…" Ashley's hand clenched almost painfully tight and Sam glanced at her. Her jaw clenched and her voice dropped down to be almost inaudible. "I just don't understand. Sam, he was the one who prepared. He was the one… he didn't even want to come. He wouldn't have come if I hadn't… If I hadn't… But when he came, he thought things through. He brought a gun. He brought—" Ashley's wild giggle returned for a moment before she swallowed it again. "He brought a snowmobile. Of everyone, why… Why would it be him? Why did it have to be Chris?"

She had no idea what to say. She'd thought about it a lot. As Ashley was pointing out, it felt wrong. If anyone should have died, Sam thought, it should have been her. And she didn't say that with any kind of desire to die, but simply considering the patterns of the mountain and her own connections to the Washingtons. Chris had those same ties, her mind reminded her, but it wasn't entirely true, was it? He might have been close with Josh, but short of being in calculus with Beth and just being around a lot, he had no ties to the girls.

"It should have been me," Ashley whispered, interrupting Sam's train of thought.

"What? Why?"

She shrugged. "I was the extra. Smart but not a game-changer. Slower and weaker. I probably should have died the first time around anyway."

"Don't say that."

"Why not? It's—it's true. And if I had, Chris wouldn't have come back and he wouldn't—"

"Chris still would have gone to the mountain," Sam said, firmly.

"But he—"

Sam stepped closer to Ashley so that their shoulders touched. She chose her words carefully. "Chris was one of the most bullheaded people I've ever met. Whether you had been there or not, eventually he would have gone. I just don't believe that he wouldn't have given in eventually, like he did. It would have bugged him too much to not know. And I think… I think that Chris would have felt compelled to get the truth about Josh, too. It just took him longer than the rest of us to overcome his own common sense."

Peering down the hall, Sam didn't see anyone, but she could hear the murmur of voices. She wasn't sure what was rude at a funeral, but she squeezed Ash's hand again. "You don't have to go back in there. Let's go somewhere. Where do you want to go? Do you want food?"

"I'm not hungry."

Thinking back to how she'd been in the aftermath of the twins' disappearance and even how she'd felt for the last few days, Sam frowned. She hadn't been hungry either. She remembered this, remembered how it went. "Let's go get coffee then, okay? Or hot chocolate? You don't have to get food if you want, but I think we should get out of here."

Ash hesitated and Sam shook her head. "It's fine. Darlene will understand." She doubted Chris's mom was aware of much at the moment. But at least she had the whole crowd of Hartley cousins and uncles and aunts to help her. "Come on."

She drew Ashley down the hallway and towards a side door. The girl followed numbly, her eyes not focusing on anything in particular.

Sam drove without thinking. Being back in their home town set her mind on familiar roads and she went into autopilot, steering them into the drive-through of her favorite high school coffeeshop. "What would you like?" she asked softly as they waited.

"Nothing."

"Not an option." She smiled. "Come on. My treat." When Ashley still didn't answer, Sam quickly shot off a text to Matt. He responded just as they pulled up to the ordering stand. "A 16-ounce soy hot chocolate, please. And a vanilla bean blended with extra whipped cream."

"What? How did you—"

"Matt," Sam said with a smile. "You wouldn't pick!"

"I haven't had that since high school. It's so much sugar."

"Good."

They pulled around into the parking lot and Ashley took a sip. She didn't smile, exactly, but her eyes softened and Sam saw some of the tension leave her shoulders. Her phone buzzed again and Sam glanced at it, then started the car up again. "Let's go see the others."

Ash stiffened again and shook her head. "Please don't take me back to the funeral."

"I'm not. It's okay. Just… just us. I promise. Is that okay?"

After a moment, Ashley nodded. They drove.

Emily buzzed them through the gate and Sam pulled the car up the long, sweeping driveway. She recognized the other cars and parked carefully next to Matt's truck. "I've never been here before," Ashley said softly as they stared up at the big house. "It's—um. It's really big."

"Yeah. Not really any bigger than the Washington's though, right?" Sam squeezed Ash's hand reassuringly and took drank some of her rapidly cooling hot chocolate. "It's just Em. You can't be intimidated of her at this point. Not after everything else, right?"

"Sure," Ashley said with a wry smile. "It's not like she's a terrifying individual anyway."

"Nah, she's a big softie. At least comparatively. Besides, this was her idea. Well, hers and Jess's, I guess. Seriously. Matt's here too."

They made their way inside, slipped their shoes off, and headed down the stairs, per the text instructions. It was like a museum, incredibly quiet and clean almost to the point of sterility. She wondered where Emily's parents were. She had heard something about them coming home to California when they'd gotten back, but they must have taken off again now that they knew Emily was safe.

The murmur of voices and the sound of a soft laugh broke the silence. They moved down the hallway and into a large den-like space. It seemed softer than the rest of the house, and more human, though that may have been primarily due to the people in it. Jess was sitting on a polished bar, swinging her feet and swiping through her phone, while Emily was behind the bar, pouring drinks. Matt waved as they came in, rising from an overstuffed leather couch to wrap Ashley up in a hug. "You okay?" Sam heard him ask and turned away, giving them a moment of privacy.

The only one missing was… "Mike?" she asked Jess quietly.

Jess bit her lip and shook her head, shrugging. "I don't know. I invited him."

"Do you want a drink?" Em asked Sam, but didn't give her a chance to respond. She slid a glass full of something dark and fizzy across to her. Lifting her own drink, she raised her eyebrows. "Cheers?"

She stared down into the glass, considering. Her impulse was to resist, to think that it was in bad taste in the wake of a funeral, and yet she could remember the light in Chris's eyes when he'd had too many beers, the way he rambled about machine learning algorithms and artificial intelligence… And Josh, though he hadn't had a funeral like the one today. He was an adventure drunk, always ready to rush off to explore something, to go spelunking or skinny dipping or anything else. "They'd want this, huh?"

Emily flashed her a slight, sad smile. "I really couldn't say."

Sam chugged the drink. Rum and coke burned her tongue and her throat, making her teeth feel like they were humming. She wasn't much of a soda drinker at the best of times, and soda plus alcohol was a combination that made her stomach squirm with surprise. Gasping, she set the empty glass down. "Gross," she said, once she could breathe properly again.

"Rude," Em said, draining her own drink. She leaned over the bar to hand Jess her own glass. "Here. As requested."

"For me? You shouldn't have!" Jess looked pale and lovely in black and dark purple. She looked tired, as they all did, but the pleased smile she gave Em wasn't lost on Sam. Her fingers brushed over Emily's and the other girl flushed a little.

Without thinking about it, Sam pulled out her phone, glancing down at the screen. Nothing. No alerts, no messages. She wasn't sure what she'd expected. Everyone was here. Or dead. Except for Mike, of course, but she hadn't heard from him still. He hadn't been at the funeral that she'd seen and she hadn't wanted to derail anything by asking about him. It seemed unbearably rude.

Matt and Ashley came over to the bar, Ashley climbing up onto one of the stools and eyeing Emily nervously. "Do I—do I get a drink too?"

They considered each other in silence for a long, tense moment. Sam felt like an idiot. She hadn't thought about why Ashley would be so nervous where Emily was concerned and somehow, in all the rush of everything that had happened, she'd forgotten about the bite and the journal. But Emily just sighed and gave Ashley an understanding look. "Sure. What would you like?"

"Um, whatever you're making is fine? I don't… I don't have a preference." Looking like she couldn't believe her luck, Ashley smiled as she fiddled with the edge of the counter. "Hey, um… Thanks. For coming today. All of you. I really… I really appreciate it."

Matt slung his arm around her shoulders as Jess reached over to nudge Ash with her foot. "He was our friend too, Ash. And you know we'd be there for you." She grinned. "You were there for us, right?"

"Only after stalling for a million years."

Her objection was waved away by Emily, of all people. "Don't be an idiot. That doesn't matter. What matters is that you came. Just like Chris did."

On the counter between them, Sam saw Jess's phone light up and heard it chime. She saw the name on the screen before Jess picked it up and her heart thudded painfully in her chest. Mike. It wasn't any of her business. If he didn't want to see her, that was okay. It sucked, but she could understand. She just wanted… she had to know… "Is he okay?" The words burst from her before she could stop them and she turned quickly back at her newly refilled drink to avoid whatever look Jess was giving her.

Everyone was quiet and Sam hated it. She hadn't meant to say anything at all, much less have everyone hear her. It was too much pressure. It was too much pressure to put on Jess and on Mike. Again, she reminded herself: it was his choice. "Sorry. Forget I—"

"Hey everyone. Sorry it took me so long to get here."

"I didn't open the gate. Did you… did you seriously walk here? Jesus, Mike. So melodramatic." Emily snorted and grabbed another glass. "Since I'm apparently playing bartender, what do you want?"

Sam suddenly found herself unable to move. Wordlessly, Jess put her phone on the counter and slid it over to where Sam could see the message Mike had sent. I'm here. You guys downstairs? Oh. She took a big swallow of her second drink. This one was stronger, or at least had less soda in it.

She heard Mike cross the room and couldn't seem to make herself raise her head to look at him. There was so much she'd wanted to say when she saw him again, and yet now, surrounded by friends, with Chris's funeral so fresh in her mind, she couldn't seem to remember any of her planned words.

Hopping off the counter, Jess dragged one of the heavy armchairs across the carpet towards the bar. Before Emily could object, Jess stuck her tongue out at her and grinned. "Here. You can sit here."

"Need a hand?" Mike asked.

There was a moment of awkward silence, then Jess giggled. "Oh my god. You fucking dork. Did you really just do that?"

"I wanted to beat everyone else to it. I am a joke pioneer and I intend to stay that way."

"Hey pioneer man—"

"Joke pioneer."

"—whatever. What do you want to drink?"

In the quiet, Sam finally managed to force a casual expression onto her face and look up. Her eyes shot straight to him and it made her stomach clench. The last time she'd seen him was in the helicopter, lifting up and away from her into the darkness. Memories struck her hard and fast: pineapple upside down cake, cave mono, his fist hitting the tunnel wall, carrying her, keeping her whole. She swallowed hard and took a drink.

"Water is fine. I think I've been dehydrated for the past year." He smiled at Matt, who grinned back. "Like in two-a-days. You could have drowned me and I'd have still wanted more water."

Sam caught a glimpse of Jess's face and the thoughtful frown said more than any words. She'd wondered, back when she'd realized about the pills, if there were other things he was doing. Maybe she was wrong, she told herself, but either way, the fact that Mike was passing up a drink was probably a good sign. Her eyes fell to his arm, to the empty sleeve of his shirt, pinned up and out of the way. She wanted to ask him if it still hurt. Was he on pain meds again? She imagined he must be.

The glass of water was set down with a thunk and Jess carried it over, perching on the arm of the chair and seeming more relaxed than she had been only moments ago. "Hey, Ash? I'm really sorry I couldn't make it. I wanted to, but I had an appointment and between traffic and… I just didn't want to show up late and interrupt things."

"It's okay," Ashley said. "I understand. Besides, I…" She trailed off, looking uncomfortable.

"You…?" Jess prompted.

"Did it feel kind of pointless to anyone else?" she asked in a rush, the words running together. She somehow managed to blush and go pale at the same time, spots of color standing out high on her pallid cheeks. Clapping her hands over her mouth, her next words were muffled. "Oh my god I can't believe I just said that."

Sam considered the idea, taking another drink. The alcohol had transitioned to a pleasant hum in her veins. "No, I get it," she said finally, breaking the thoughtful silence. "I think I know what you mean."

"It felt kind of hollow," Matt offered. "I mean, they just think it was an accident, right? Animal attack or whatever it is they're calling it. So it felt…"

"Disrespectful," Sam agreed, flashing him a grateful look.

Ashley closed her eyes for a long moment, then looked around at each of them. "C-can you guys promise me something? I know it's stupid, but can you—can we agree to not pretend like that's what happened? They're so… everyone is so sure they know what happened, but it's not and I just can't bear to keep pretending and trying to convince myself that it was just…" Her voice faltered and Matt put his other arm around her, drawing her into a hug.

"Any time you want to talk about it, Ash," Sam said quietly. "I'm here. I'm not going to pretend." Mike was watching her and she carefully kept her eyes fixed on Ashley, trying to infuse her voice with every possible comfort and certainty she could. "I'm not going to pretend ever again."

"Can I make a toast?" Climbing back on the bar, Jess raised her glass and looked around the room, her eyes shining with tears and something more. "To Chris, the worst dancer at prom."

Catching the spirit, Emily raised her glass. "And to Beth, who beat my grade in AP Calc by one decimal point, the sneaky bitch. "

"To Hannah," Matt said, his voice rough. "The best running partner. Also, the one who complained the most."

The last one was hers. Her hand shook slightly, the ice in her glass rattling. Sam took a deep breath, thinking hard. "And to Josh, who made the worst vegan macaroni and cheese I've ever had…" She hesitated, then a breathless laugh burst from her. "…the fucking nutjob."

Emily laughed loudly at that. "Here here!" She drained her glass and gestured to everyone. "Who wants another?"