Eventually Hal found his way out of the studio to his room, where he lay down on his seldom-used bed. He had no idea how long he stayed there because he wasn't completely in the world yet; he lingered in the sympathetic embrace of Lena's soul.

When Hal finally became aware of his surroundings his room was dark and the house was quiet. He checked his watch as he sat up. After 11pm. Tom and Alex would be down for the night by now; he had missed some of the afternoon and the entire evening. Lena was in the kitchen. He would join her.

Hal was partway down the stairs before the thought hit him, and he stumbled and nearly missed a step. How do I know Lena is in the kitchen? He hadn't searched for her in the house or used his senses to track her. He just knew, as certainly as he knew that she would never leave him or give up on him. The knowledge—no, the conviction—was embedded in him.

She was pouring his tea when he entered the kitchen, and she took it to the table with her own.

"Thank you." Hal drank most of his tea before speaking again. "What did you do to me?"

"I don't know. What did I do to you?"

"Let me guess. Never tried it before, thought it would work?" he asked with a wry smile.

"Something like that, yeah," Lena admitted.

"I will rephrase my question. What did you intend to do to me?"

"I intended to share my history and my life with you in a way that would help you understand me better. And maybe even things out between us, somehow." She shrugged. "I don't know. Share my secrets, I guess, so you won't be so worried about sharing yours. Did it work?"

"It nearly broke me, but yes, it worked. I saw things, felt things, that I didn't believe possible. You could never truly explain yourself. There is simply too much of you." He looked into his tea with a frown. "So much in you, and so little in me. Even the vampire was quelled by it. I will never again believe myself to be great, no matter what others may say of me. The vampire has been humbled."

"I didn't think it was possible to humble a vampire," she teased. "Your species is inherently arrogant."

"You have once again accomplished the impossible, my lady," he said. "No need to get cocky about it," he added dryly.

Lena chuckled as she brought the teapot to the table and refilled their cups. "Did you learn anything useful?"

"Let's just say that I will never doubt you again," he replied.

"You doubted me? About what?"

"Once again, I will rephrase. I will no longer question your resolve to stay with me and see the battle with the vampire through to the end."

"Well it's about time you figured that out," Lena said as she began to get leftovers out for Hal to eat. Her timing was perfect, as he had just begun to notice that he was hungry.

Hal joined her efforts by getting his table service. "I'm sorry you had to spend your evening in your room," he said. "I didn't realize how much time had passed."

"I didn't spend my evening in my room, Hal. I've been downstairs for hours." She stuck some roast beef in the microwave.

"How is that possible? I would have noticed the lack of your presence." Hal's hands shook slightly as he helped himself to the cold salad.

"I don't know how it's possible, but it happened. I knew you didn't need me near you this evening. Not only that, the curse has gotten so pale that it's barely visible." Lena made her observation quietly, as if she weren't speaking of a miracle. "You tell me Hal, what did I do to you? Because I don't know."

"I knew you were in the kitchen without looking for you. Wait, the curse has weakened? How?"

She brought the roast to the table with a shrug. "Beats the hell out me. This is all unplanned side effects."

"Your influence over me has expanded, it seems. I need to give this some thought while I eat." Hal was getting very hungry and the roast smelled good. "I don't suppose there are potatoes to accompany this beef?"

"On it." Lena was already putting leftover potatoes in the microwave. "There's lemon meringue pie, too. In fact, I hear it calling my name." She got the pie and two dessert plates. "I made two of them so there would be some left over for you."

"I'd believe you were thinking of me if I hadn't seen you eat half a meringue pie at a sitting," Hal said. He got his potatoes from the microwave.

"That was coconut. I can't be held responsible for my actions where coconut is concerned." She helped herself to a piece of lemon meringue pie. Hal didn't need to know that it was her third piece for the evening.

"So, the curse is paler?" Hal nodded as he ate a bite of the roast. "This is very good, by the way. Did Alex prepare it?"

"You can shut up any time now, smartass," Lena replied, "and yes, the curse is barely visible. Can't you tell the difference?"

"Frankly, there are several differences and I've yet to sort them all out. But the fact that I didn't require your proximity this evening is telling." He ate thoughtfully for a few minutes. "You bared your soul to me." He pointed his fork at her as he spoke.

"Yes, I guess I did," Lena agreed. "I wasn't thinking of it like that."

"I felt it reach into me and draw me from myself, in a way, and it has held me these past hours. Is it possible that you left a bit of it behind? Can a soul be fragmented? That might explain the side effects."

"I don't know, Hal, but you're right. That might explain the side effects. Or it may only be temporary, a residual effect of looking into me like that. Who knows?"

"We shall see." Hal set aside his dinner plate and started on his pie.

"Now what?" Lena asked the question mildly. She wasn't pushing him, she just wanted to know if he had any good ideas.

Hal knew what she meant with her question and he had no trepidation about answering her. "Now that I know they will not drive you away, I believe that I should share with you those parts of myself that I have heretofore kept hidden. It is as close as I can come to baring my soul to you. Have you the patience to listen, my lady?"

"For as long as you like," she replied.

Hal talked as they did the washing up. He continued as they moved to the living room, where Lena worked quietly on her needlework as she listened to him. He was hesitant, ineloquent, forming thoughts as he spoke them, not always aware of what he was thinking until he heard the words himself. He told her the details of his cruel usage as a child in the brothel, and how he'd enjoyed using others cruelly in turn when he was old enough and strong enough to do so. He explained that he'd carried his cruelty with him and that the vampire had unleashed it into the world, turning him into a rapist and murderer of monstrous proportions.

He told her of the women he had loved and killed after becoming a vampire, and of his belief that he'd lived far longer than he should have. He told her of the times he'd come close to ending his own life, during his human and vampire years, and of the disgust he felt at his own cowardice in clinging to a horrible, dishonorable existence.

He revealed that part of him expected to be used and tossed aside because that's all he was worth. It was the reason he'd found it easy to believe that Nastusia had left him when he was still human. He believed that his expectation of betrayal was also a trigger that called the vampire to end his affairs with human women before they could turn from him. He lived in fear of it happening again and that fear kept the vampire close to the surface. Only now, after feeling within himself the strength of her determination to stay, did he believe that she wouldn't abandon him.

Rivers of blood could make him forget the usage, the murders, and the fear, but it couldn't erase them. Nothing could.

"I can't erase those things for you either, Hal." Lena spoke quietly, the first words she had said in a while. She'd refrained from emotional outbursts and sentimental interruptions and had let Hal speak unhindered.

"I'm not asking you to fix me; I'm just letting you know the creature you want to be with." He looked exhausted, his face drawn, dark circles under his eyes, but he smiled at her.

"I know you can be cruel. I saw it in you when you were human, but you never showed that side of yourself to me."

"You gave me no cause. You treated me better than I deserved."

"Perhaps you deserved better treatment than you believed."

He shook his head, unwilling to discuss the subject further. "The night has nearly escaped us, my lady. Perhaps we should attempt to sleep before the day's demands on us begin."

She moved aside her needlework. "I agree, my lord."

Hal escorted his lady to their room, where their nighttime routine fell into place and they met once more in their bed. Their heartbeats and breath aligned as they rested against each other and quickly fell asleep.

Lena woke up several hours later to discover Hal propped on an elbow, watching her.

"Reading my mind?" she asked.

"Not possible. I can tell that you're happy." He smiled gently.

"Why wouldn't I be? I'm with you." She returned his smile.

"Being with me is no guarantee of happiness. Perhaps you were having a pleasant dream."

"Perhaps I was dreaming of you. I can tell that you're randy," she said as she brushed a hand against the erection his pyjamas couldn't disguise.

"Why wouldn't I be? I'm with you." He kissed her. "You taste of vanilla in the morning," he said when he had pulled himself away from her lips.

"Angel thing," Lena explained. "Mom said Dad has delicious morning breath."

"I can't imagine any part of your formidable father being delicious," Hal said lightly. He frowned as an unpleasant thought crossed his mind. "Do I ever taste like—death—to you?"

Lena shook her head. "No. You don't taste or smell like death. Today you taste like toothpaste. In fact, there's just a bit, right here—" She kissed the corner of his mouth where he had missed a bit of toothpaste residue, adding a couple of licks to make sure she cleaned it off. "Mmm, minty fresh," she teased.

Hal couldn't resist kissing her again and he was rewarded by an intriguing vanilla-mint taste that he didn't mind at all. He looked forward to more kisses, at the very least, but Lena checked the clock on her desk.

"After 11! Hal, it's Bangor day!"

"That's putting it a bit crudely, but if you think we're ready I can give it a go," he replied with a grin.

"Not 'bang her,' Bangor! The organ recital, remember? At the Cathedral." She rolled her eyes as he groaned and sat up.

"You must pardon my lack of enthusiasm," he said. "Bangor is a 5-hour drive away, which means that we will be on the road for 10 hours today. In order to sit through 2 hours of organ music. In a church. You do realize that I'm a vampire? Churches are not the most comfortable environment for my sort."

"You're an Old One, so churches and crosses and such don't bother you," she replied glibly. "Look, Mr. Grumpy Pants, one of my friends is performing so we're going."

"Couldn't we fly?"

"You know the rules about that. Human modes of transportation except in an emergency. Besides, I'm in the mood for a road trip."

"Are you somehow punishing me? What have I done to displease you so much, my lady?"

"You mean lately, or just in general?" She laughed. "C'mon Hal, we've been through all this. Suck it up and make the best of it. The recital is at 7, so we'll need to leave by 1:30 at the latest."

"That gives us a little time, then…" He reached for Lena as the text message alert sounded on her phone. She promptly hopped out of bed and got it off the charger on her desk, but before she could return to bed she had read the text and began jumping up and down and squealing with excitement.

"Hal! We have to leave now! Oh my god, oh my god, this is great, this is fantastic! Hal, we have to go! Get up, get dressed, come on!" Lena grabbed his arm and began to drag him out of bed.

"What the bloody—" he exclaimed as he managed to get out of bed feet-first in spite of her tugging. He caught her arms to stop her from jumping and demanded, "Stop! Lena, stop! Talk to me."

She took a deep breath and released it slowly in an effort to calm herself. Hal could hear her trembling breath as well as feel it in her arms. She was shaking with excitement.

"Frederick has a closed rehearsal from 4:30 to 6. After visiting hours. Doors locked, no interruptions, so he can familiarize himself with the instrument."

"Good to know, but why do you find that fact so exciting?"

"He's invited me to join him. Hal! I can dance! In the Cathedral. I can dance!" Her eyes glowed with joyous anticipation.

Hal understood her excitement. Music, space, privacy to be her true self. The image of her soaring to the heights on the swell of music created by a majestic instrument leaped into his mind. A quiver passed through him and his stomach tightened at the thought of watching her. Of course they had to go, as quickly as possible.

Lena dressed in dancewear and canvas shoes as she talked herself through the change in plans. Hal was dressing in his room at the same time. "I'll need to pack clothes for the recital, and I'll need a place to change—Hal? Can we get a room so I can shower and change?"

"Of course," he called back through the wall.

"We can stop for food on the way, right? Or grab something on the way out of town? Hal?"

"I'll make a thermos of tea and something to eat for the road," he said as he tied his shoes.

"Is there plenty of gas in the car?" she called after him as he left his room.

"There are petrol stations in Wales," he called back as he went to the kitchen.

Within a few minutes they were at the front door with a change of clothes each and a packed lunch. Hal wished he had time to check the contents of Lena's travel bag, as he couldn't be sure she remembered the essentials: change of underwear, hairbrush, shoes. He held out his hand for the key fob.

"You're not driving," he said firmly. "You'll have us flying there, car and all, the state you're in."

She handed him the key fob but not without complaining. "What am I going to do then? I need to concentrate on something, do something."

"You may babble, listen to music, and sing along off-key," Hal said dryly as he locked the house. "That's what I'm expecting to occur, at any rate."

They drove north from Barry, beyond the houses and industrial sites, past reservoirs, and through the desolation of the Brecon Beacons. The road snaked along through hills and woods, small farms and towns, at times more or less following the path cut by a river, with very few straight miles to be found.

The babbling began as Lena told Hal bits of the story again, and in nothing resembling chronological order, of her friendship with Frederick Reynaud. She was frequently distracted in mid-sentence and Hal didn't try to follow along. She couldn't maintain a semblance of coherence, especially with interruptions for tea from the thermos and blaringly loud interludes of music that Lena cranked up until the windows shook. Hal really should have invested in earplugs, as she had become almost completely immune to his sarcastic comments about volume control.

When she began rapping along with some god-awful lyric about a 'hooptie' Hal couldn't take it anymore. He shut off the noise.

"What? Come on Hal, this is a great song." She turned it back on.

He turned the volume waaaay down. "It isn't a song, it's gibberish."

"It's Sir Mix-A-Lot rapping about his crappy old car. It's fun. Old school." Lena rejoined Sir-Gibberish in his unintelligible rhyme about hoopties, homeys, rolling with his posse, and freaks with large posteriors. Hal was relieved when it was over, but Lena quickly found another selection just as obnoxious.

"This one could be about you. Do you know what a Mack Daddy is?" She laughed and joined the 'artist' in yet around round of questionable storytelling. The innuendo was appalling, the plot non-existent, and the gist of the whole thing was apparently that Mack could take any woman he wanted from any man in the area. Hal thought the similarities between himself and the Mack fellow were few at best, other than their skill at acquiring women. And he certainly didn't want to be anyone's Daddy.

Finally Lena relented and switched to something more soothing, which Hal appreciated. He recognized Nat King Cole's "Unforgettable" and hoped it wasn't a commentary on his outdated taste in music. He saw her smile, relax, and begin to sway in her seat; he could see that Lena truly enjoyed it as much as he did.

"We need to dance to this," he said.

"Mmhmm," she hummed her agreement.

Another Nat King Cole song came on. Apparently Lena's playlist was extensive as well as esoteric.

"How long have you known Frederick?" Hal thought she might be calm enough to fill in a few gaps in his knowledge before they met her friend.

"Over 15 years, I guess. It doesn't seem like that long."

"You know him only because of your effort to find a home for an unwanted pipe organ, correct?"

"Yes, we wouldn't have crossed paths otherwise, but I'm glad we did. He's an exceptional musician."

Hal glanced at her quickly before returning his attention to the road. "Does he invite you to dance often?" He was curious as to the nature of Lena's relationship with her musical friend. Merely curious, and not at all jealous of her affection for the gifted Frederick.

"This is only my second opportunity. Are you trying to get me to tell you the whole story? I thought you'd have had enough of it by now," she said with a side-eyed glance and a smile.

"One time through in a reasonable manner would be helpful, my lady," he replied. "I'll start you off with what you've already told me. A church in your community could no longer maintain its hundred-year-old pipe organ. There was nobody to play the instrument or keep it in good repair. You bought the organ to keep it out of the skip and found yourself in the position of trying to find it a new home."

Lena nodded. "Correct. I wanted to make sure the church could afford a quality replacement instrument, so I gave them a good amount for it. Frederick was helping restore an old church in his parish in Ohio at the time. A labor of love on his part. Their organ was in terrible shape, so he was thrilled to take mine off my hands. He said it was a match made in heaven." She smiled at the memory of the young man's enthusiasm and gratitude. "I paid for it to be dismantled and shipped and he personally supervised the operation so he could make sure it was put back together correctly."

"You were quite a generous benefactor."

"We became friends during the process. It took well over a year, and he invited me to hear him play in other venues in the interim. Frederick had recently finished his studies in music and theology and had a position as music minister in an established church. His gift was already recognized."

"Is he Seraphin Nepos? You've mentioned musical gifts as coming from that realm."

"As far as I can tell Frederick is fully human. He is talented and driven to master the instrument of his choice. His dedication to his craft has paid off, and he travels and performs extensively now."

"You asked nothing from him other than a private concert when the instrument was restored in its new location?"

"I didn't ask that, he offered. Called me and said it was in place and in tune and he was going to put it through its paces, so to speak. Of course I went, just to hear it. It had been years since anyone had really handled it well. I had no intention of dancing, but the music got into me and I couldn't resist."

"Frederick must have got a shock when you left your feet and didn't return," Hal said dryly.

"His back was to the congregational area so I didn't think he could see me. But yes, he hit a few wrong notes when he caught me in mid-air," she agreed with a quiet chuckle.

"The mirror," Hal said. As a vampire he was acutely aware of the proliferation of mirrors in public places over the past few centuries. There would have been one placed so the organist could see what was happening in the worship and congregational areas. "How did you explain your wings?"

"I didn't. He didn't ask and I didn't offer. Frederick is a devout Christian, so I let him form his own opinion of my nature based on his personal frame of reference."

"You led him to believe you're an angel? Tsk, my lady. You were dishonest," Hal teased.

"Well, he was more than half right, so I was less than half-lying." Lena defended herself.

Hal thought over their plans for the evening in light of the additional information Lena had given him. "Am I to understand that you are taking a vampire into a church of God to listen to a devout Christian play religious music? Surely there will be a bolt of lightning sent from heaven at some point in time during this endeavor." He was only partly joking.

"It'll be aimed at you," she replied. "Lightning doesn't kill me, it just pisses me off."

"Perhaps I should wait in the car."

"Are you worried?"

"Not about lightning from heaven, but I do wonder if your influence in muting the vampire has also had an effect on my immunity to religious symbols and sanctified spaces. We've yet to test it."

"Good point. We can bullet train into the building and if you start to combust I'll get us back out."

"I'd rather avoid any suggestion of combustion. Perhaps we can find another way. A cross? A touch of holy water?"

Lena thought for a minute. "I have an idea," she said. "I'll be right back." She disappeared.

Hal continued driving. He assumed that she would find her way back to her seat in the car, and she did, just few minutes later. She had an old leather pouch in her hand. Lena carefully untied and unwrapped the string that held the pouch closed and shook a piece of wood into her hand. It was also old, rough-hewn, a large shard about three inches long. She held her hand out to Hal.

"Can you touch this?" she asked.

He reached carefully toward the piece of wood; his fingers hovered over it for a moment before he gently rested them on it. It felt oddly warm and slightly uncomfortable, as if it was trying to push him away. The sensation didn't intensify so Hal picked up the piece of wood and held it for a minute. The mild discomfort continued but didn't increase. He caught a very faint scent that he recognized and quickly gave the shard back to Lena.

"I smell blood, just barely," he said.

"You can still smell it! I didn't think you'd be able to," she said as she put the shard of wood carefully back in the leather pouch.

"I suppose that is some kind of holy relic?" Hal asked.

"It's a piece of the cross," she said as she tucked the pouch safely away.

"The cross? As in The Cross? How did you come to acquire it?"

"It broke off when we were carrying the cross away from Golgotha."

"You were there?"

"Yes, some of us were. We would have saved him, if he'd asked. He stuck to the plan right to the end, though. Bravest man I ever met." She was quiet for a moment, waiting for Hal to ask another question. When he didn't she continued. "I wasn't a follower, per se, because he wasn't here for my sort, he was here for humans who needed someone on whom to pin their faith. But I knew who he was and I listened to his teaching."

"Why did you remove the cross?"

"We couldn't just let it go into the trash heap, or be re-used for a common criminal. And we didn't want it to become an object of ridicule for his enemies to use against him. We took it and kept it safe until his followers decided what to do with it."

"So those splinters of the cross that were sold for a spot in heaven may have been splinters of The Cross?"

Lena shook her head. "Don't get me started on the whole 'miracles performed by holy relics, buy a piece of heaven or at least a get-out-of-hell-free-card' pile of shit. No, the real cross never ended up like that." She looked at him briefly, then turned back to watch the road. "If you can hold that piece of wood, you can walk into any sanctified place on the planet. You should be fine."

"I felt mild discomfort, but it certainly wasn't intolerable. And I doubt that a religious building would have nearly as strong an effect," Hal agreed.

They were quiet for a moment as Lena browsed the playlist on the iPod she had connected to the car's sound system. Brightly-syncopated piano music rose from the speakers, and Hal gave her a surprised look.

"Ragtime?"

"How can the "Maple Leaf Rag" not make you smile?" She grinned at him. "It's consummately happy."

Hal found himself nodding his head in time to the rhythm, and when the song was over he asked if Lena had any Louis Armstrong in her playlist. "He was a favorite of Leo's," Hal said with a smile.

She found a couple of tracks for them to listen to, after which she played Benny Goodman and swing music from the 1940's. It seemed the next logical step in their walk down musical memory lane, but Hal frowned slightly as he recognized the unmistakable clarinet and driving rhythm. He lowered the volume.

"This style of music carries unfortunate memories," he said quietly. "I owned a club and—" His grip tightened on the steering wheel and he took a breath. "—and I ate more than my share of musicians during those years."

He kept his eyes steadfastly on the road so as not to see her reaction to his slaughter of musicians; the disgust and anger that she must feel. To his surprise, there was none. Lena was long past the point where Hal's mention of his vampire forays could upset her.

She replied mildly, "I hope you chose the mediocre ones. Good musicians are hard to replace, but bad ones are a-dime-a-dozen."

"It was my tendency to do so, yes," he said with a touch of thankfulness in his voice. "It saved me paying them for their substandard work."

She chuckled. "You do have a good head for business, although your tactics are at times questionable. What would you like to hear?"

"I'm fond of Vivaldi."

Lena smirked as she found what she was looking for: Vivaldi's Chamber Concerto for Lute in D Major. Hal recognized it immediately.

"I've not attempted that piece in quite some time," he said as he relaxed into the music.

They continued north, although it was hard to tell at times, and Lena felt her nervous excitement calm to a manageable level in Hal's company. He had been wise to drive, because she'd been in no fit state to do so when they'd left the house. Even now he was the better choice as he safely navigated through a grey drizzle that made road conditions less than ideal. She would likely have sent them off the road in her haste. She would have gotten them back on the road quickly enough, but still, Hal was the safer driver under their current circumstances.

"You were smart to take the wheel," she said as she looked at the passing landscape.

"Would we be flying by now if I hadn't?" Hal teased.

"Probably, although my poor car would very likely be muddy and bent up as well."

When they passed a signpost announcing their entrance to Snowdonia National Park, Lena frowned. Maybe she should have paid more attention to their route. "I don't remember that being on the directions I looked up. Are you sure you know where you're going?"

"I've been to Bangor," Hal said. "I'm following the same route I always follow. The A470."

"Hal! That takes an hour longer! We're supposed to be on the M5!"

He snorted derisively. "That's a ridiculous detour. Trust me, my lady, I'll get us there."

"Son-of-a-BITCH!" Lena kicked her feet repeatedly against the floorboard and screamed just a little bit to vent her frustration. "Hal Yorke, if I miss my chance to dance because of you, I'll—"

"You'll what?" he smirked with a raised eyebrow.

She sank dejectedly into her seat. "Not a damn thing. I won't do a damn thing, because you're doing me a favor and I should be grateful." She scrubbed her face with both hands. "Shit, being good is a pain in the ass!"

Hal smiled quietly and tried not to feel smug. Lena without threats of violence against his person was his favourite kind of Lena.

"Perhaps you can enjoy the scenery. It is quite beautiful here, even in this weather," he suggested. "If worse comes to worst, you can always go ahead without me, you know. I'll bring the car 'round later."

"True," Lena admitted begrudgingly. "Good god! You've become the voice of reason!" she exclaimed. "When did that happen?"

"I like to think that I've always been the voice of reason and that you are finally paying attention."

It was her turn to snort derisively, but she took his advice and admired the beautiful view around them. The A470 became the A487, water appeared to their left, and at last Hal wordlessly pointed ahead. Lena looked through the windshield toward something bigger than a village, with a huge stone building high on a hill.

"Ooh, that's quite a sight," Lena said. "Foreboding. Is that the University?"

"Yes. The Cathedral is in the centre of town." Hal frowned. "I haven't been here recently, so parking may be an issue."

"Get me within sight of it and I can handle the rest." She rubbed her hands in anticipation, then breathed a relieved sigh and tried to relax. They would be on time.

The last few miles were no easier on Lena's nerves than the previous 180 had been, however, and she was afraid she might combust if she saw one more roundabout. How do people live without long, straight highways?

She began babbling again, this time about the Cathedral itself and the bits of information she had gleaned online. The site had been used for religious purposes since the 6th century, first as a monastery and later as a church. It had been ransacked, destroyed, and rebuilt, as had so many ancient buildings. The current building was cross-shaped, built in the Romanesque style the Normans had introduced to England. Hal nodded as she spoke. He'd already known about the Cathedral before she'd begun flinging fragments of information at him during her research.

"It's over 200 feet long and 60 feet wide, not large for a cathedral but much bigger than a dance studio," she said. "The ceiling height is over 30 feet, Hal! And there are no rafters blocking it, just space!" He could tell that she intended to use every bit of that space.

Finally they reached the town centre and Hal found a place to park near the rose-colored stone building that Lena recognized from pictures. It was 4:40pm. She grabbed him by the collar and pulled him into a kiss as their bubble of eternity formed around them. He barely had time to lock the car before they disappeared and their still-fastened seat belts drooped in their absence.