There's been an overwhelming sadness inside of me ever since I woke up.

When Thomas is there, it's bearable. I sometimes don't even feel it when I'm around him, but then I see Minho, the sadness written across his face, and I feel guilty all over again.

I know I can't really do anything about it, but what if I said no to Evie when she asked to be friends? Just a simple what if. Or what if she had walked on another spot and the bricks didn't hit her? Or what if Aris decided to kill her last? Or, or, or, or...

What if Thomas had died from the arrows? Gally? Minho? What would I do then? Live with the guilt of being the cause of their death?

"Hey, Viv," a now more familiar voice shakes me out of my thoughts. "Wanna get some coffee with me?"

It's Sylvia. Her hair is no longer silver. She dyed it brown this time. It looks absolutely amazing. And she's wearing one of the sweaters I made for her. Oh, she was so thankful. It's almost the happiest someone ever reacted to me making them clothes. 

"No, thanks," I mutter, turning back to my homework. The concentration issues are still there, though they're not as worse as before. I am able to make my homework, but I can't immediately start studying after it. I need a break now and then.

The urge to come with Sylvia right now is big. I'm sick of making homework. My concentration is ebbing away as well, but I still refuse.

I don't want to risk it.

Imagine he escapes again, and he somehow pulls another trick of his on Sylvia.

I can't risk that.

Can't make others lose their lives to me.

"Are you sure?" Sylvia asks.

I nod.

"Okay," the slight hint of disappointment in her voice makes me shrink. "I'll ask Minho, though I doubt he's in for it. I just need someone while Finn's training."

I nod again.

"Let me know if you change your mind."

"Will do."

She disappears upstairs and I turn back to my homework, when there's a cough. "What?" I mutter to Dad.

"You should go."

"Have homework to do. Isn't that, like, the thing you have told me to do ever since I started school?"

"Both of us know what's going on here," he says, his voice calm... as always.

"I don't think so."

"I've had contact with the principal to make sure you're doing okay at school after everything. He'd let me know if something happened. But besides you being closed off, everything was fine, he said."

"So?"

His eyebrows raise, as if the answer is clear— it is. "So you're not talking to your friends."

"What friends? They're either traitors or dead."

"You still have friends. Newt, Sonya, Gally, Brenda, Harriet... I'm sure they'll gladly talk to you."

I shake my head. "I barely talk to half of them. I was too busy with Thomas to... notice the others."

"You can still fix that. You had a fun time with Sonya during the Christmas break, hadn't you? And in the beginning of the school year, you and Newt were super close."

I shrug, uncertain about what to reply.

"Go with Sylvia," Dad encourages. "Minho will indeed say no. The funeral is tomorrow. He needs his time."

The funeral got postponed just for me. The third of January, I was still in the hospital. I went home on the fourth and now it's the ninth. School started three days ago.

I received a few stares, but that was it. My neck was obviously still bruised and Thomas stopped me from covering it up with concealer. There are probably some articles online about how Jonah got taken back into prison, so whoever read that at school, knows it's Aris. I guess everyone somehow knew he lived at ours and was my friend.

"Fine."

Sylvia eventually appears back downstairs, her face filled with even more disappointment.

"I'll go with you," I announce.

In a second, her face has lit up. "Really? Awesome. I heard they have something new. We should try it. I'll pay."

I mouth a 'thank you' to Dad before we put on our thick coats, then step outside into the almost fully melted snow. I, unfortunately, didn't get the chance to enjoy it.

Sylvia looks up and down at me. Her eyes stop at the crutches. "We'll go by car. It's slippery down the hill anyway."

I just nod.

It's awkwardly quiet as we drive towards the coffee shop, however that might just be me. Sylvia's humming to the song on the radio, a joyful expression on her face. 

"What was, eh, first meeting Finn like?" I ask, both out of curiosity and to break the ice.

An automatic smile forms on her face. "Kind of funny. I was waiting in the changing room, ready to meet him. I heard his coach tell him about a new nurse outside the door. He replied, 'I don't need a nurse. Are you assuming I get harmed that many times by my opponents?'."

I also smile a bit. "Sounds like Finn."

"Then he walked inside the room. I got up. Held out my hand— the usual greeting. He froze in his place, eyes wide. And then he said, 'Hi, I'm Finn.' I said 'Hi, Finn. I'm Sylvia and I'll be your nurse for who knows how long'. And he said, 'Hi Sylvia'."

"It went... simple like that?"

"Yeah. Another friend of mine wished me luck. She was once his nurse and she said he was grumpy all the time, especially when he lost. He never said anything about his private life either. But to me, he was the total opposite. I mean, grumpy, yes, but not towards me. And he talked all about his family, especially his siblings."

"Wow," I chuckle.

She nods, smiling brightly. "Then he faked an injury. I pretended I didn't notice, but I for sure did. I started paying more attention to his moves in the ring and gave tips, even while I don't know that much about boxing. He gladly received them." A pause. "It went on like that, until he asked me out."

I freaking knew it; he has a whole secret life outside the house.

"Then eventually, we started dating."

"Did you know he only told us that when Minho teased him? I had no clue anything was happening."

"Yeah, that's Finn for you."

☯︎︎

"I knew Evie for four years, if not five. Not only did I see her at school, but she was often at the track field," Minho begins.

From the dozens of chairs here, we haven't claimed many. It's just my family and Evie's grandma.

And that breaks my heart.

Minho is in front of us, reading out loud, "I won't be informing you about everything that happened in those four years, because of... reasons. I will tell you that when I messed up—really, really messed up—she gave me a second chance." He pauses to take a breath. "It took a while for her to give me that chance, though. She made me try hard, and that's good. She was one of the kindest people I know, but also very fiery and stubborn.

"She once stepped up to my sister and asked her to be friends just like that. She easily brought smiles on people's faces, only because she was smiling. And whenever she started speaking, the smiles would turn into laughter. To me, she was the one who lit the room up."

Another short pause. "The last few weeks, in which she gave me the second chance, had made me the happiest guy on earth. Looking back on it, I'm really glad I got to feel like that. She introduced me to her grandma, who I can say is an amazing woman, and everything seemed to go so easy with her. Talking and understanding and listening. Unspoken appreciation.

"So, again, I'm grateful I got to know Evie. What happened that night is something she didn't deserve in a million years, and if I could travel back in time to save her, I would, just like everyone in this room would. May she rest in peace. Thank you."

After a quick glance around the room, he walks back to his seat next to me, rubbing his eyes. The woman who organized the funeral informs us about a few things, mostly about how Evie will be buried and we can come with to watch.

"You did so good," I whisper to Minho once she finishes speaking. Wet tears hit my cheeks, but I ignore them, and wrap my arms around him. "So good."

He nods into my shoulder. Then slowly, the sobs start coming. I rub his back and squeeze him tight and murmur that it's okay over and over, until he pulls away.

Wiping the tears off his cheeks, I gift a small smile. "I think Cynthia wants to talk to you."

He looks behind us, at the woman. "Oh, hi."

"Hi," she says softly as she sits down next to him. "Thank you for the speech, Minho."

He nods. I can tell he doesn't know what to say. "Yes. It was... an honor," he responds, tone a little questioning.

I decide to leave them alone and make my way to Finn and Dad, who are sitting in silence.

Mom isn't with us. She decided that many days before the funeral already, but Minho's words really... confirmed it.

You don't deserve to be there, he had snarled yesterday night, when it was the topic during dinner. He has began eating with us at the table instead of vanishing in his room, yet it doesn't lower the tension.

I think those words went a little far, though.

I had a talk with Mom the other day. No one else but me now knows a knife was being held to her throat as she promised she would let him inside our house and that she wouldn't call the police on him.

We would all really be dead if she hadn't done what she did. Even I would be dead. Aris's intention wasn't even becoming obsessed with me in the first place. It sort of just happened.

Because I was nice to him.