Two days. She avoids Riley for two full days as they sail for Tortuga, and he lets her for a few different reasons. The first and most important of them being that her avoiding him means she feels guilty, and although he still does not hate her, he doesn't mind the thought of letting her sit on that guilt for a while.
But after two days, his patience runs out. There's things that need saying, and really, it'll be best if he just gets it over with.
It's late on the third evening when he finally slips away from the crew, now preparing to turn in for the night, and down to her cabin. He knows her well enough to know sleep doesn't come easy to her, so it's doubtful she'll have found it yet. He knocks softly on her door, and waits in silence, hoping she'll be curious as to who it is and come to the door.
He's rewarded with the sight of her pretty, lightly freckled face peering into the hallway, eyes widening for a moment, and then she just looks resigned. "Ah." She says, sighing. "Couldn't avoid it forever, I suppose." She steps away, opening the door. "Come on, then."
He walks into her cabin, pausing to glance back at her when she closes the door. She's hesitating, and he's almost amused. He's used to her always talking, always coming out with just the right thing to say, and it's nice to know even she doesn't always have it all together. He crosses the room and makes himself comfortable in the window seat without invitation and she's studying him now, trying to figure out what's happened to him exactly. "Would you still know just what to say if I were upset? Angry? I know that's what you were expecting. I suppose I should be."
She stays where she is, leaning back against her cabin door, and slowly slides down it, one knee hugged to her chest. "Aren't you?"
He shakes his head. "I was, at first. But only a little. Your goddess… I'm not sure I can explain just how. But she's helped me sort myself out, you see. I get it now."
Her brows furrow a bit in confusion. "Get it? Get what? I'm not sure I understand."
He pauses, thinking. He wants this to come out right, needs it to make sense to her. "I've been confused. Ever since you brought Andrews and -," and Peter, but he decides that's not where he wants to go with this, "and I onto this ship, ever since our first conversation. You've had me confused. Perhaps on purpose, perhaps not, but you had me questioning everything I've ever been told about right and wrong."
"Perhaps more on purpose than you think." She says quietly, sounding tired.
He pauses again, to see if she has anything more to say, but she doesn't seem to. "I thought, for a while – was convinced – that you were wrong. Just because I wasn't willing to follow Andrews blindly didn't mean I was like you. Now – I don't know what I am. But I know what I'm not."
A smile just tugs at the corners of her lips. "And what aren't you, Riley Connelly?"
He pauses as he tries to settle on the right way to put it. "One of them." He decides. "I am not at all one of them, and never was."
She nods, as though this does indeed make perfect sense to her. "I've always known that. But it wasn't supposed to happen like this, you know. I needed a way to get to Andrews, and you – you made it easy. You made it fun. I could tell the moment I first saw you that you weren't like him, so it was simple."
"But you're no expert at this game. Not yet." She winces as he reads her, but he plows on. That goddess, she really had helped. Really had made it all clear to him, laid it all out so simple. "You broke the rules."
"I fell in love." Her eyes harden as she stares at the wall, glaring at nothing. "Not a mistake I intend to make ever again."
"I don't think you could, not so easily. Because that goddess of yours, she told me something, and that something is the biggest reason why I'm not angry."
She rolls her eyes now, looking annoyed. "This ought to be good." She sounds just tired again.
"She told me that I was right. You were a good woman. Well – still are, nothing is that simple. But you did something to yourself, when you sent me off like you did, knowing what could happen. There's a sliver of ice in your heart now, a dark little spot, not an easy thing to do when it was once so pure you were allowed the privilege of taking the waters of the Fountain along with you."
She looks up at him now, eyes wide in shock. "You – how could you possibly know about that?"
He shrugs. "Your goddess. She seemed to think I was owed it somehow, the knowledge that there were consequences for you. Nasty ones." He stands, crosses the room, kneels before her so she has no choice but to face him. "That's why I'm not angry, Emily." Just Emily, because he should've heard her from the beginning. She's not a lady, and he's come to realize they are far closer to being the same than he'll admit out loud at the moment. "Your punishment will take care of itself in the end, I think. That's how it works, for people like you."
She reaches out as though to cup his cheek, but hesitates at the last moment and gets to her feet instead. "People like me." She murmurs, and there's hurt behind her eyes, hurt and sadness and guilt. A moment passes, and she covers it with the ghost of a smirk, the Devil's daughter once again taking over. "And then there are people like Andrews. Which one of us do you suppose you're really more like? Because I seem to recall you telling me you didn't blame my men for wanting a little revenge, killing Peter." He doesn't know how to respond to that. It's a bothersome question, even more so than she's probably hoping, and her smirk grows at his obvious inability to give an answer. She steps closer to him, and his heart speeds up to spite him, his reactions to her unhindered by all that's happened. She leans up a bit as though asking for a kiss, and he's half tempted to give it to her, because to spite all she's done – or, perhaps, because of it – there's still something darkly irresistible about her. "Food for thought." She winks up at him, and just before their lips meet she pulls away to open the door. "Good night, Mister Connelly."
He shakes his head and finds himself wishing he could get inside hers the way she seems to be inside everyone else's from the start. "Good night, Captain." He replies, calm and steady, and leaves just the same.
His last words echo hollowly through the cabin. Emily's smirk fades as she closes the door, her shoulders slumping, her stomach twisting itself in knots. She's not sure she quite understands what the deal is, here. Yes, what she did to Riley was horrid, but he wasn't meant to remember, and… He'd lived. Why is she being punished so for what didn't happen?
People like her. The way he'd said it. She'd accused him of being more like her than he thought, but was it the other way around? Had she been a bit more like him until that moment she decided to throw him to the wolves? She thinks that maybe, as per usual, she hadn't quite understood what she was dealing with to the fullest extent with this whole 'purest heart' – thing. Probably she still doesn't. Her first thought is to ask her goddess… But she refuses. She doesn't need Calypso, she decides, or any of the other gods the goddess constantly makes vague reference to. Not if all they're going to do is deprive her of sleep in the process of giving her cryptic orders that could very well lead to her being hurt in some way shape or form. That's got tiring right quick. She's not much used to taking orders anymore, anyway. She's found she rather more likes being the one giving them out.
Riley's words stay with her, though. Your punishment will take care of itself. That's how it works for people like you. People like her. She scoffs even though he's no longer around to see it. People like me are the ones having all the fun, anyway. That's petty of her, but she doesn't have it in her to care.
(She's learning to pretend better all the time, but some part of her is really so sick with guilt that she thinks Riley is probably right – and that if he is, she'll deserve whatever she gets.)
"There you are!" Emily's voice just carries over the raucous shouts and laughter of the men and women around him.
He'd ducked into the overfull tavern thinking it to be the most likely place he'd find her, but it had taken him just moments to realize this was possibly the very last place he wanted to be. Which is to say, Alex was just on his way right back out. With little time to really deliberate, he makes the split decision to pretend he hadn't heard Emily and keeps walking. If she's really been hoping to see him, as her exclamation suggested, she'll follow. He makes his way back down the street at a leisurely pace, no real destination in mind now. He's nowhere else to go except back to the ship. Actually, he decides as he passes up the brothel Ruby calls home and several other strumpets try to wave him down, the ship is starting to sound like an alright option anyway. He's halfway back to the docks when he finally comes to the conclusion that Emily probably hadn't been all that eager to see him after all. Still cross with him, maybe? Ah well. Let her forget him and enjoy herself for a night, then.
"Alex?" She sounds questioning this time, but with what he'd just been thinking, her voice is a pleasant surprise.
He glances over at her as she comes up to walk alongside him. It's an even more pleasant surprise when she loops an arm through his, laying her head on his shoulder. He pauses, looking down at her, and she meets his eyes with her big, pretty brown orbs, softened with affection. He presses a kiss to her forehead, and they start walking again.
They reach the docks, coming to a halt at the end of the deserted stretch where the Queen is resting. Emily hops up to sit on a barrel, bouncy and playful, in a good mood apparently. She reaches out to pull him closer by his vest, leaning forward.
He brushes a stray strand of her dark brown waves back behind her ear, but holds off on the kiss she's silently asking for, causing her brows to furrow in confusion. He, however, is holding back a smile. "Where's that brother of yers?"
A pause, and then her eyes dance with amusement. "With my father."
"And where's he?"
"Busy keeping an eye on my brother." She replies, as though that should be obvious.
"Nothing Jo'll be coming to grab you for?"
"No, I believe she was rather busy with a deck of cards and a table full of drunks with too much money to waste. Cleaning them right out, too. Think I taught her a little too well." She winks, leaning in again. "I am, if you can believe it, all yours."
"Mmmm, finally." He smiles before covering her plump, kissable lips with his own. He expects she'll taste and smell of the rum she must have indulged in by now – but she doesn't. She smells only of the sea and that scent that belongs solely to her, and tastes of sweet apples. Long, arms snake up to rest around his neck as he slides his hand down to rest on her waist, and they stay that way long enough, kissing deep enough, that it would be grounds for arrest being that they are right out in the open – if they weren't on Tortuga, that is. Since they are, anyone passing through their general vicinity probably doesn't even glance in their direction.
He's the one to break it, finally coming up for air, still half expecting someone to interrupt them at any moment.
She rests her forehead against his. "Let's go to my cabin."
He wants to. But it doesn't feel right anymore, this thing they have. It's too carefree. Not proper, even he thinks, maybe, by pirate standards. He wants serious. He thinks of the conversation he'd had with Emily's father, about wanting to marry her, and he doesn't think she'll agree. Almost knows she won't. "Marry me." The words push past his lips anyway.
If she's surprised, she hides it well. Her reply comes snappy, but holds no venom. "No."
"Why not?"
"Why should I?"
"Because that's what people do on the occasion they find love." A pause, he pulls back to meet her eyes.
"We are in love? Both of us?"
"Yes." There's no hesitation there anymore. "Yes, very much so, we are. But do I honestly look like anyone's wife?"
"Oh, come on, that's a stupid question."
"We fight more than we do anything else."
"You like arguing, though. And I think ye're rather pretty when ye're angry."
"You couldn't run away. If we were to go through the trouble…I'd never let you go."
"If we were to go through the trouble," he cups her cheek, "I'd be draggin ye along with me no matter where I went."
"Alex. The Queen." She shakes her head, pulling his hand away to hold it in her own. "I wonder sometimes if you realize just what you'd be asking me to give up."
He meets her eyes; they look troubled now, and a little sad. "I'm sorry." He murmurs after a moment.
Surprise takes over her features. "You're sorry? What on Earth could you have to be sorry for?"
"I don't – fit in to this world, yer world. Not like you do. I did try. But I can't make myself."
Now she's worried, her eyes widening in something almost like panic. "Don't say things like that. I know things have been – just, off lately. I'm sorry for that. I'm sorry for a lot of things. But we can – I can – we'll set sail again soon." The over-confident pirate Peg has disappeared quite thoroughly now, but it brings him no satisfaction. "Find some trouble. A bit of honest pirating." She attempts a mischievous smirk.
He wishes he could make her understand. There's nothing about any of this that ever quite sat right with him. It was different when they were still children and the decisions weren't theirs. Now the choice is his, playing along is just too much; he can't make himself be happy here. The trouble is, he can't really ask her to leave with him. She has, in truth, far more to lose than he does. Either way, it would never work. And just like that, he makes his decision. Softening, he leans in to devour her lips with his own again. "Sounds good, love."
She relaxes some, slowly. "Really? Because – you worry me when you start talking like you have been."
"Really. No worries, I promise. Know what? That idea of yers sounds good to me after all." He leans down to scoop her up, right off the barrel, cradling her slender frame in strong arms. She lets out a rare, girlish squeal as he does. "Yer cabin it is. Lets just 'ope yer brother doesn't come askin for ye."
She's planting kisses on his neck already. "Mmm, I think he can live without me for one night, don't you?"
He smiles down at her, squeezing her a little tighter to his chest. "Aye. Just for one night."
She knows something's still off. It's in the looks he gives her, the sadness just hinted at behind his eyes. It's in the way he's so gentle with her to start with. It's in the way he paces them, slow and deliberate. The way he explores her, the way he watches her reactions to his pleasuring. She doesn't know for certain what's going on in that head of his. But for once she doesn't contest him being in charge. She lets him do what he will, and returns the favor only when he allows it.
They don't say another word to each other, and there's never a moment where they aren't connected in some way – warm lips trailing gentle kisses, hands caressing bare skin. They go on for some time like this, and when they finally collapse, still in each other's arms, thoroughly exhausted, Emily allows herself to pretend. Just for a moment, she allows herself the fantasy of this being as perfect as it feels. She imagines them on that farm Alex talked about, with cows and a coop full of chickens and the horses just waiting to be taken out for an early morning ride and a little one or two, sound asleep just in the next room.
Just for a moment, she plays pretend with him. Curled up warm and comfortable and very loved in his arms, she's sound asleep by the time that moment's up.
It's only been a few hours at most when she wakes. She can tell because not only is it still quite dark, but she can hear the sounds of Tortuga in all its raucous nightly glory still in full swing. For a moment she's confused. What could have woken her? She shifts herself in bed, rolling over and reaching groggily for Alex…
The other side of the bed is empty. Still warm, but empty. And now she knows. She knows what was off about him earlier, what he was thinking. She's good and awake now, and just in time too – she didn't hear her cabin door open, but she hears it shut quietly now. She scrambles to dress herself, stumbles out the door while trying to buckle the last strap of her brace, frantic. Don't let him get too far, don't let him, don't let him… She bounds down the corridor, shoots up the steps, runs full tilt halfway across the deck – and freezes all at once.
He's still there. Standing with his back to her just at the gangplank, one hand resting on the rail beside him.
And the only thing she can feel is anger. The white hot, entirely irrational kind that he always claims to love her for. Her fists clench as she tries not to let that spill over into some display of her power. "You – you miserable…" She can't even find the words. "You were going to leave me just like that? No warning at all?"
He doesn't turn to her, but she can see him clutch the railing tighter, so tight his knuckles turn white. "I thought it'd be best that way. One last night together, no arguin or anythin."
"One last wonderful night just so you can leave me in the middle of it like I'm no better than Ruby or Adrienne or…"
"Please!" He bursts, glancing halfway back at her. "Please, don't – Emily, just don't."
She wants to burst into tears, but won't allow him to see her like that, not if he's really going to do this to her. "Why can't I hate you?" She startles herself by saying. "I mean, you – you're so infuriating sometimes. We just don't seem to fit together quite right, but…"
"But ye love me all the same?"
"Just like you do me." She pauses, closes her eyes, takes a breath. "Look at me. Please?" He does. It takes him a moment, but he lets go of the rail and turns to her. She wants to go to him, but can't make her legs move. "I'll marry you. I'll do anything you like! Just stay with me." She shoots forward now, all at once, reaching for him. "Alex, please, I'm begging you, properly begging you. Just stay with me."
He flinches away from her touch. "Anything. Do you mean that? Even if anythin meant simply comin with me?"
Yes. She should say yes. It's easy, simple. She opens her mouth and tries to make the word leave it but no sound comes out. She glances around the ship, her ship, and her stomach twists itself in knots in a way that has her power once again trying to build because she wants to fix it. But magic can't fix everything. It certainly won't fix this. It's not that she doesn't want to say yes. It's that she knows it would never work out. She wouldn't be happy on that farm with him, she'd be pretending just like he'd been pretending here with her. And it won't help that she's almost certain she's not capable of giving him the children he might want. They'd both end up miserable for it in the end, and she doesn't want to do that to him. Maybe without her… she remembers the vision she'd seen, Alex so happy with that other woman.
Alex looks – tired. Hurt and weary. "S'alright. I knew the answer was no." She knows what he's thinking. He thinks she loves the ship more than him.
She looks away now, staring off into nothing because it's easier than seeing him hurt. "Where will you go?"
"Figure I'll hop on the first ship that'll take me to a more honest port and start from there. Gotta be plenty of honest captains that can make use of a man who's been crawlin over ships since 'e was just three and ten. And plenty of other places could use an extra pair of strong arms. I'll manage."
She nods. "Good luck. Really, Alex. I hope you find whatever it is you're looking for." She forces herself to look up at him again. "I hope you find happiness."
"I hope you can manage to keep yours." He answers, soft and just as sincere.
I'm losing at least half of it right now. But she doesn't say that out loud. She's a pirate. She's awful and selfish and manipulative but just this last time she's going to do the right thing and let go. "Write to me? You could send letters to the Good Goddess. I'll arrange something, make sure I get them."
"Of course." He replies, but she has a feeling it'll be a very long while before that happens, if it ever does.
They stare at each other for another long moment, and then she's shooting forward again and he's opening his arms and they're kissing, hungry and passionate, devouring each other's lips just one last time. She forces herself to pull away, and he looks hesitant but murmurs a 'goodbye, Emily,' and turns around, and she watches him walk away.
She stands for some time at the rail where he'd stood, just staring after him even though he's long since disappeared. In those moments, she decides two things for herself. The first is that she no longer wants to hear anyone else call her 'Emily'. It'll never sound the same as from his lips. The second is that Peg Leg Turner no longer gives a damn about the right thing.
She startles herself with that one, though only time will tell how true it is. For now, she decides that men are a pointless, oft infuriating annoyance. What she wants is rum, and her legs begin leading her to it without her needing to think it through. She follows his path off the ship, and that is quite the end of it.
They linger in Tortuga far longer than Peg would usually allow them to. She's intending to head back for Shipwreck. After sending Andrews back off to his precious Admiral, it'll probably be best if they begin preparing for the possibility that the Admiral will start being more aggressive. Her idea is for Shipwreck to be the Queen's home base if this happens, the thought being that perhaps the brethren court could be involved eventually out of necessity. She doesn't think Teague will object to this, it's a solid plan. At least, it would be if she still had Alex. But she doesn't. The idea of trying to explain to the old captain that his grandson has gone his own way, left them all behind, is intimidating enough. She doesn't like thinking it, but such a decision on Alex's end puts him dangerous close to being a traitor to his own kind, and although she doesn't blame him, many would. Having the only explanation as to why he'd made such a decision be that Peg herself had driven him off? That makes the prospect of explaining it somehow, sort of, maybe a little…
Terrifying, even if Teague is fond of her in his own way.
So, in Tortuga they stay. She's never been the most fond of the place, but finds that actually, if one knows how to navigate and not be noticed, it's the perfect place to be if hiding is your intent. And although she's come to not mind being the center of attention every now and then, she's also got quite good at not being noticed at all. Not that it's difficult. Tie her hair back in just the right fashion, wear a vest instead of her corset, bind what little bosom she has, and one would have to look very close indeed to even realize she's female. Lower her voice and walk with legs apart, making sure not to sway her hips, and no man has reason to look closer anyway.
It's a very useful talent, and one she's growing quite proud of. She goes on quite content in this manner for some time, guzzling rum with her men in the taverns when she wants company and hiding away with a book in a room at the Good Goddess when she does not. It's a wonder she doesn't find more trouble over the days that follow; as it is, the only thing to cause her any real grief is not a thing, but a person. Her father allows her just two days before voicing his apparently firm though decidedly hypocritical opinion that crawling into a bottle will get her exactly nowhere and as such 'you should either go after the boy or bloody well be a better pirate than this and get over him'. She can't manage to conjure too much venom, but tells him, in so many words, to bugger off.
It takes her another week to come to the grudging realization that he's probably right, because no amount of drink can keep Alex off her mind for too long anyway.
It takes her another four days after that to sober up enough that she again notes how light her coin purse is growing, and it is then that she decides it's just time.
"Captain Turner."
Peg freezes at the sound of his voice, eyes closing as she takes a breath. She's not sure she has it in her to have a talk with him again, but she forces herself to turn at least half way around and acknowledge him. "Mister Connelly. Should you not have somewhere else to be by now? I could've sworn I took care of that." She continues on down the dock, heading for the Queen. They're getting ready to set sail; she hopes to have left Tortuga within the hour, and had thought he'd be gone already.
He comes up to keep pace alongside her. "You did. I should – do have somewhere else to…"
She glances at him, brows furrowed a bit. "Well? Captain Kristoff's a good man. He'll take you wherever you need to go."
"I'm sure he would, but…"
"And you have your Sarah to get back to. I'm sure you miss her and your mother."
"Oh, I do." He grabs her arm firmly, stopping her. "And I thank you for this. Truly."
She finally allows herself to face him. "I'm sending Andrews scurrying back to the Admiral, but I wouldn't worry about that. He'll think you're still with me. Get yourself home and keep your nose in your own business, you should be safe enough."
"Well, perhaps, but…"
Peg is getting impatient. "By the old gods, will you just spit it out?"
"It's not good enough. 'Safe enough' just…isn't good enough." He pulls out a small coin purse. "You left this."
"I figured it was the least I could do." She replies. She'd set the contents of the purse aside some weeks ago; it's a handful of the gold doubloons she'd tempted him with early on.
"I was going to just take it and leave. I was. But I think…that would be selfish of me. I know Captain Andrews. He won't just forget, and if I go home and make one wrong move…" He looks down, staring at the coin purse. "Sarah and my mother could pay for it."
"Riley. You understand that's not a problem easily fixed?"
He nods. "All too well."
"I suppose you're thinking to stay on with me."
"I'm not sure I have much choice."
"I don't know where we'll be going after we take care of Andrews. Shipwreck again, probably, but after that, who knows? If you come with us, it won't just be some half imagined vendetta Andrews has against you. He'll have legitimate reason to brand you a pirate." He looks a touch conflicted. She plows on. "The question here is, whose side are you on?"
There's a pause. "I didn't tell you, did I? That there was more than one reason why I'm not angry with you." She only shakes her head, half curious now. He goes on. "It's because I realized – if I'd had you and Sarah side by side. If I'd been faced with the choices you had, I can't say I wouldn't have done just what you did."
"Don't." She says sharply and with a sudden vehemence. "Riley, I was wrong, I was…" Her fists clench as she grows frustrated with herself. "I was playing games because that's what I do. Don't let me do that to you. Go home and take care of your mother like a good little boy."
"I can't." He bursts. "Maybe it's something you've done to me, or maybe I've just…started to figure myself out finally. I don't know whose side I'm on anymore, Emily, I just know I can't risk going home, and I'm not sure they'd recognize me if I did."
She stops now, studies him. There's a hard look in his eyes as he meets hers steadily, and his voice hasn't cracked or gone wobbly once throughout their conversation. He's starting to sound less a boy and more a man. It seems cruelly ironic, somehow. Alex was supposed to have been the bad boy, the pirate, and yet he's run off to make an honest man of himself whilst sweet Riley doesn't trust himself to go home anymore. Peg heaves a heavy sigh, then throws her shoulders back. "Right then, Mister Connelly. We cast off within the hour, I'd suggest you go inform Cap'n Kristoff of your decision."
He straightens. "Aye, Cap'n." He turns half way, but pauses again, a hint of mischief behind his eyes as he glances down at the coin purse still in his hands. "I do hope you weren't expecting to get this back."
She places a hand on her hip, shaking her head. "You're starting to sound a pirate. What did I tell you about behaving?" She tries for playful. He offers her a ghost of a smile. "Send it to your mother." She tells him.
He nods, tucking it away again, and then is off.
"The holds bursting with rum, Andrews is starting to get fussy, and the men are getting just as anxious as you to find some trouble." Jo goes down the list as she follows Peg across the deck of the Queen the morning it's finally decided they should cast off. "I'd say we're about ready to be off."
There's hesitation in the older woman's voice, but Peg ignores it. "Good. It is about time I suppose." She replies, making her way up to the helm. "Weigh anchor, hoist the sails, you know how it goes, I want Andrews out of my hair already."
Jo follows her all the way up to the wheel. "Aye, Cap'n, but…"
Peg glances at her with an annoyed huff. "What is it, Jo?"
Glancing around a bit, Jo leans in, lowering her voice. "It's just, Alex. It's possible it took him some time to find another ship to take him on, we could…with that compass…"
Peg takes the wheel and doesn't answer for a long moment, thinking of said compass. This very idea has been tempting her on and off for the past two weeks, which is why she's had the compass itself locked away in her desk. "No." She says, far more resolute than she feels. "He's gone, Jo. Where to is none of my business anymore. Where we're going, that's what I'm worried about, so hop to it, will you?"
Sighing, the older woman shakes her head. "Aye, Cap'n."
So, yeah, no more Alex again. This was necessary, I promise I do have a plot still! He'll be back.
In answer again to my last reviewer, I was going to have Emily have to choose between Riley and Alex, but when I decided Alex would have to leave for plot purposes I thought it would be more fun to have Riley stay as an interesting contrast. As for Will and Jade, Jade did die. She was on a ship crossing to England with her son, Emily's brother, and the ship was sunk. Elizabeth (being her very evil, snaky self) caught them both, but Joshy was still alive, so Jade agreed to serve in some capacity on the Dutchman as long as Elizabeth let Joshy go. It was all essentially explained in chapter 37, in the vision Emily has. The idea now is that Elizabeth (now being herself again) is going to release Jade and let her cross over to wherever the dead go.
Thanks for reading, everyone. :)