Remy drove at a speed that Marie would have never had the nerve to take the roads at night. His mutation gave him near-perfect vision in the dark, so even though he whipped around corners on the rural roads and sped through empty intersections, she never felt unsafe. If anything, she thought he could have gone faster.

Short of flying or teleporting, however, there wasn't any reasonable way that she would have been able to get to the hospital sooner. She just hoped that it wouldn't be too late when she got there, and that she hadn't made a mistake by going back to the house and then falling asleep.

The outside continued to speed past the window in a blur, and only slowed down once they approached the city center. When Marie saw the hospital looming against the dark night sky, she started to feel the dread creep in.

"I hate that building." Nothing good had ever happened to her there.

"I wish I could tell you that it'll be all right," he said.

"Me too."

Remy pulled into a parking spot, and when they got out of the car, he settled his hand on the small of her back and navigated them inside. It wasn't until they were in the elevator that Marie realized an unspoken agreement had been made—he was staying.

She didn't have the energy to think about the implication of returning with Remy in tow, and frankly, she didn't care. She was just grateful that he was there.

Papaw ushered them into the room when they got up to the ICU, raising an eyebrow, but not saying a word about Remy's presence. "The pastor's just left," he told them.

Aunt Sadie gave them a small wave, but Mama didn't say anything, although she barely looked up. She and Granny-Mae flanked the bedside. Marie doubted that her presence even registered.

There weren't any chairs left, so she and Remy stood in the corner by the window, where they'd be out of the way of anyone that might be going in and out.

The doctor joined them not long after they arrived. "Are we waiting on anyone else?" he asked Mama.

But it was Papaw that answered. "We're all here now," he said softly.

It was soon obvious what he meant, and the doctor explained in compassionate terms what would happen next. The drugs were all that were keeping Daddy alive at that point.

Marie watched as they pushed buttons on the machines that triggered several warning alarms. But then the nurse turned off the screens, and everything got eerily quiet.

Remy slipped his arm around her and she leaned into him, finding comfort in the warmth of his body. They stood, just waiting, because there was nothing else that they could do.

It was a terrible, helpless feeling. Like standing in the middle of the highway and watching the oncoming traffic getting closer, but being unable to step out of its way. Marie was going to get hit, and the aftermath wouldn't be pretty. And there wasn't a single thing that she could do to prevent it.

Without the sounds of the machines to provide white noise, Marie was forced to focus on the sounds of Daddy breathing instead. In and out. It wasn't long, however, before his breaths became labored, and it seemed like each one was going to be his last. But he held on for forty-five minutes. And then, when he let out his final breath, there was no mistaking what it was.

Even though Marie had been expecting it, his death still came as a shock.

Mama and Granny-Mae sobbed openly. Papaw and Aunt Sadie hugged them with silent tears in their own eyes. Marie turned away from it and hid her face against Remy's chest. Both of his arms wrapped around her, and he rubbed her back while she cried. At some point, she felt him rest his chin on the top of her head.

They stayed that way for a while, until the doctor and a couple of nurses came back in, and then she pulled away from Remy, suddenly aware of how inappropriate it was of her to treat him like they were still together. "Sorry."

"Nothing to be sorry for," he said, and then reached for the little box of tissues on the windowsill and handed it to her.

She pulled out a handful, and dabbed her eyes and blew her nose. She didn't deserve his compassion, and couldn't understand why he was being so nice, but she appreciated it. "Thank you."

He quietly accepted her gratitude.

Someone was talking to Mama about a funeral home, so Marie figured it would be a good idea for them to leave. Once her mother didn't have anything else to focus on, she would realize that both Marie and Remy were there, and that probably wouldn't end well. Marie didn't want to make the already difficult night any worse.

Papaw hugged her as they were going. "I'll call you later," he said. "Let you know what's been decided."

She nodded.

Then he pulled Remy into a quick embrace and told him goodbye.

They left the hospital driving much slower than when they had arrived. The sun would be coming up soon, and everyone else would be getting ready to start their work week. Waking up, going about their regular routines, and remaining completely oblivious of the fact that someone had just died.

"Where are you staying?" Remy asked, breaking through her thoughts.

Marie wished she knew. "I was staying with Mama." What a mistake that had turned out to be.

"Do you want me to drop you off there?" he asked. "You can pick up your car later. Or I can—"

"No. I can't go back to that house," she said. "I was going to get a hotel room. All of my stuff is in the car."

"You want me to take you to a hotel, then?" he offered.

"I don't know," she replied. "Not really." A hotel was impersonal and lonely, and she didn't want that either. Trouble was, she had nowhere else to go, and New York was probably further than Remy was willing to drive. She couldn't very well ask to stay with him. "I don't know why I even bothered to come back."

"Because you thought your mama needed you."

But where had she been when Marie had needed her? She supposed that made her the better person.

Marie ran her fingers over the smooth metal cover to the ashtray embedded in the passenger door armrest. When she was a kid, she used to play with the one in the family station wagon. It closed via a spring, and made a satisfying snap when the lid was lifted up and let go. "I was so stupid for thinking that it would be different. That for some reason she would be happy, and just seeing me again would magically fix everything."

They stopped at a red light and Remy turned to her. "It's not stupid to have hope or to want things to be better."

"It doesn't matter now anyway," she said. "After this whole thing is over, I don't think I'll ever see Mama again. Maybe not until she sends me another letter to tell me that she's dying."

She rested her head against the passenger-side window. Remy was going the long way, around the park. Probably since he didn't know where to take her.

Eventually, they would end up back at the house, because that's where her rental car and luggage were, and then she could either sleep in her car, or face reality and get that hotel room. But she had time, and for now, she was just glad that she wasn't alone.

"Will you tell me a story?" she asked.

"Whatcha wanna hear?"

"I don't care." She just needed a distraction and his voice was familiar and a comfort. "Tell me about this car."

He reached out and stroked the dashboard. "My pride and joy. And I know you're thinking, 'That Remy, he's such a good thief, he must have stolen this incredibly sexy car from some big-name collector with an impossible to bypass security system'."

She knew that she could count on him to make her smile. "That's not what I was thinking."

"Well, I didn't. But I did steal a different 1970 Chevelle SS for a job, and, cher, let me tell you, it was love at first drive. This one though, was a bit of a fixer-upper, so it didn't run and was missing a few vital components when I bought it. Like tires. And a hood."

"Oh jeez."

"But everything else was original, and I needed a project to keep me out of trouble, so I brought her home."

He went on to tell her about all of the restoration work that he had done, and how he had painted the racing stripes matte black instead of white, so that the car would blend in better with the shadows. She lost herself in the sound of his voice as he drove, which was exactly what she had wanted.

As expected, they ended up back at the house. Remy parked under the carport, but neither of them made a move to get out.

He turned to her. "So, uh, I happen to know that this place has a nice comfy bed, and all the usual amenities. If you wanted to stay here, I could probably ask the manager to give you a discount."

"What about the other guest who's staying here?"

"Oh, him? He likes to sleep on the couch. He won't mind you taking his room."

Marie wanted to live in this version of her life where she could banter with Remy and not have to think about anything difficult. It was so much easier than dealing with reality. "I heard that the coffee here tastes like it was scraped off the bottom of the Mississippi."

"Management has received some complaints about that recently, yes," he said, feigning remorse. "They've dropped from a five-star rating down to a four. It's very disappointing."

She bit back a smile. "I don't know...it sounds like this is one of those fancy places where I have to tip the bellboy when he brings in my luggage."

Remy shook his head. "He usually does that kind of thing for free. But," he lowered his voice, "I heard he's kind of a thief, so you might want to keep an eye on your valuables."

Marie didn't know why he was offering to let her stay with him, but she was too tired to question it.

"If you're sure it's okay," she said.

"Only if you want to."

She could worry some other time about whether or not staying with Remy was a good idea. "I do."