She knew she had to stay hidden, as long as possible, until she could figure out her next steps. Kurt was somewhere in the house, Wanda was lurking nearby after having killed Pietro, and Max's fury was sending chills down her spine.

"Come out you little bitch!" Wanda screamed as Anna Marie tried to stay away from her, looking for something, anything, that she could use to defend herself.

"He's dead because of you!" The deranged woman shrieked into the winter air. "I killed all of them for him, and now he's dead!"

Wanda heard a rustling movement, and made her way towards it, knife in hand. "And now….I won't stop until I've killed you."

"Wanda…"

The familiar voice had her spinning around, facing the ghost of her brother in horror. His eye, where she had stabbed and killed him, was red like the clay, while the rest of him was white.

"Stop this, Wanda….no more…."

Her hands shook as she held the knife up, pointing it at him.

"I can't stop….she ruined everything, Pietro…."

"Please…."

"NO!" She screamed at him, tears in her eyes. "I won't stop until-"

Her words were cut off as something hard hit the back of her head, and she fell to the ground, the blow from the back of the shovel causing an instant and fatal blow, her body laying still and unmoving.

Anna Marie panted slightly, holding the shovel in her hands as the adrenaline started to subside, looking up at Pietro's ghost, sorrow in her expression as she looked upon her husband.

"Forgive me, Anna Marie…"

She tried to reach out for him, and he disappeared, like sands being blown in the wind.

All she could hear was the howling of the storm around her, the machines still operational.

But then….they stopped. The stillness was deafening in a way.

"Anna Marie…."

She knew that voice. She turned, the spectral figure of Max Eisenhardt, his blue eyes expressing his sorrow and regret.

She dropped the shovel to the ground, the snow softening the landing.

"You knew all along. That's why she killed you, isn't it?"

His expression was her answer. Tortured.

"I tried to protect you from her."

She should be angry. But how could she? He had tried to save her from the truth, to preserve her innocence. But the truth was a funny thing.

She walked closer to him, and slowly held out her hand, his ghostly fingers enclosing around it, bringing her close, her hand he brought to his lips, kissing her knuckles with tenderness with his eyes closed.

When he opened them, he whispered. "Forgive me, schatzi."

She felt tears in her eyes as she shook her head. "There is nothing to forgive….not from you." She repeated the words he had spoken the first night he had loved her.

The look in his eyes, it was a fire that burned for her, a sorrow knowing that time was running out.

"You must get your friend to town…." The implication was clear. She wouldn't be able to return, not when the people knew that she was the only survivor.

Panic rose in her throat. "Ah don't want to leave you here…"

"Schatzi, you must. I have not been amongst the living in quite some time. You….you must live."

"Even if ah have to leave you behind?" She inquired, hoping he would change his mind.

There was a long pause. "Even then, my sweet Anna Marie."

Tears sprang to her eyes, and she kissed him, pouring all she had into it, every emotion, every ounce of affection and love she had.

She didn't need to say it, he knew. He knew that she loved him, had known. He held her in his embrace for what he feared would be the final time, taking solace in knowing that their time together, though brief, had been passionate and all-consuming.

She parted from their kiss with great hesitancy, her heart breaking at the thought of the next words she must say.

"I don't want to say goodbye…." She whispered.

"Live. For me, Anna Marie." He whispered in return. "Go."

With a breaking heart, she turned to go back in the house, searching for Kurt.

Kurt, thank God, had made a full recovery from his injuries. The villagers had been able to patch him up, allow him to recover for a few days, long enough for the authorities to deal with the bodies at the castle. They had both made the return trip to Buffalo, neither of them wishing to speak of what had occurred at Wernigerode Castle, the only people who knew the details of what had occurred being herself, Dr Wagner, and Mr Creed.

She moved back into her father's home, the familiarity haunting in a way, knowing that her father had been a victim of the Eisenhardt siblings, the sorrow of all that had occurred finding her late at night when all the servants were asleep.

This night was no exception. She tossed and turned, wishing for Max, wishing that he would come to her, and stoke the fire to life-

As if reading her thoughts, the fire in the hearth ignited, warming the room as she sat up in bed, feeling a familiar chill down her spine.

There, next to the fire, standing to his full height, was the man she had just been wishing for.