Violet was sitting on the edge of her bed, holding the black rose she had found lying on her pillow. She scraped her nail along one of the petals and some of the black chipped away to reveal red. As she had suspected, the rose was painted black. She set the flower down beside her and stood up. There was only one person who would give her a black rose

Downstairs, Ben and Vivien were in the kitchen talking about their Halloween plans. Violet slipped past them and headed for the basement.

Taking two steps at a time, she called out, "Tate? I know you're down here." She looked around the basement and saw not Tate, but Hayden.

"Hello Violet," Hayden said, with a not-so-nice smile on her face.

"What are you still doing here. Shouldn't you be off seducing other guys and ruining marriages?"

"Hm, good idea. It is my only day free of this place until next year; might as well make the most of it." Hayden winked and disappeared.

Violet sighed and called Tate's name again. Getting no reply, she walked back up the stairs to find Vivien and Ben waiting for her.

"What do you plan on doing today?" Vivien asked her.

"The usual," Violet lied. The usual was going to music stores and listening to new music, but today she was going to something else. She tried to walk by her parents; she needed to find Tate. But Ben stopped her.

"You're mom and I were thinking that maybe we could go out together like a normal family," Ben said. Violet let out a laugh.

"A normal family? That's bullshit. I already spend every day with you, I don't need to spend my one free day with you too pretending to be a normal family." This time, Ben let Violet go when she brushed past him.

Tate hadn't been in the attic when Violet checked. Sitting on her bedroom floor and twirling the rose in her hand, she tried to think of where he could be. Since it was the ghosts' only day to walk outside of the house's boundaries, he probably wasn't here. He might come if I cut myself, she thought.

She stood in front of the sink, digging the razor into her wrists. With every cut she looked up in the mirror to see if he would be in the reflection. When he wasn't, she would turn to see if he was there.

But he wasn't.

Even as the cuts started to heal, she continued making new ones until her arms were a bloody mess and the bottom of the sink was filled with blood. He hadn't come to stop her.

Maybe he was done—finished with her. Instead of her ignoring him, it was the other way around. Maybe the time in the bathroom was the last straw for him; the sign that he needed to move on.

Violet leaned her elbows on the edge of the sink and stared at the small puddle of crimson. Most of the blood had drained down the sink, but a red stain remained in the bottom.

She didn't want to believe that he would give up on her, but maybe he had.

But he left the rose.

Violet jerked her head up and rushed for the door. She knew where he was.

It was chilly on the beach, but the cold didn't bother her. Violet saw him sitting on the sand, watching the waves. It was getting dark; she had spent most of the day thinking of where he could be when the clue was right in front of her: the rose. Tate had given her a rose before they went on their first date at the beach. The same beach they were at now.

If Tate was aware of her presence, he didn't show it. Violet walked slowly towards him, pausing between every step like she was approaching a wild animal. When she was about a foot away, she stopped. He still didn't move.

She sat down beside him. At first they didn't speak, didn't even look at each other. Just watched the waves. Then finally, he turned his head and said with a sad smile on his face, "I didn't think you were going to come."

Violet looked into his eyes and saw hope and sadness warring against each other, like he didn't know if he could allow himself to believe she might forgive him. There was also a war going on in Violet's mind. Head versus heart. It was the same song and dance: her brain yelling at her to go far away from Tate and forget about him while her heart was demanding that she forgive him. Normally her head won, but she wasn't sure about this battle.

Being so close to him, seeing every feature of his face that she had missed studying, brought out a longing. A longing that she had suppressed so well until he showed up in the bathroom, which was what caused this. If he hadn't shown up, she would be fine with pushing the feelings into the back corners of her mind.

Five years is long enough, her heart told her.

Seeing that she wasn't replying, Tate started to turn his head back towards the water. But before he could, she stopped him by placing a hand on his cheek

Yes, yes it is long enough, she thought. Even though her mind was screaming bloody murder at her, Violet did what she had wanted to do for the past five years.

She kissed him.