I couldn't tell if a few minutes had passed or hours. My tears had finally ran dry, and I was now just breathing in the smell of his fur. Finally, my legs still weak and feet still aching, I stood, gently moving his head off my lap so he was curled into a ball. At a glance, he may look like he was just sleeping.

I moved up the stairs of my house, my feet a whisper on the wood. The library door was open along with the window, footprints in the snow leading off the ledge. I quickly shut the window and then changed in my room, then went into the storage closet and grabbed a shovel.

He was as much a part of my family as any Shade woman, and he deserved to lay with them.

I pulled my boots on with a heavy heart, moving towards the door with Dog zipped into a bag. It was all wrong. Everything was wrong. I pulled the heavy oak open gently, and began my trek through the snow.

-

I arrived at the graveyard right when the sun was making its appearance, gently placing the bag on the ground and began shoveling snow and dirt out of the way. My arms burned and the sun was a quarter way through the sky by the time I was done. I wiped the sweat off my forehead as I looked back at the bag, so exhausted I couldn't even cry anymore. I would need to sleep for the next 7 days to regain any feeling, physically and mentally.

I crouched by the bag, unzipping it and lifting my wolf's limp body up into my arms. I sat by the hole, taking one last breath of his fur. I kissed between his eyes for the last time. "I love you," I whispered, lowering him into his final resting place.

And I had to close my eyes as I tossed dirt and snow on top of him, thinking of what I would put on his headstone.

DOG
BEST BOY IN THE WORLD
LOVED DEARLY

I agreed to the thought and stood back, looking at the freshly dug mound. I think for a moment I may break down again and speed out of the cemetery before I do.

I decide to take the long way home, holding my bag with the shovel now in it, trailing on the tree line. I pass Mr. Leland's house and hesitate before climbing the stairs.

I knock once. Twice.

He opens the door with a smile on his face, and it immediately drops when he sees me. "Willow? Have you slept? You look exhausted. Come in, come in."

I have no words to say as I enter his house, collapsing on my favorite chair with a heavy thud.

"Where's Dog?"

I look at him with sad, tired eyes, and just shake my head. He understands immediately. "Oh, no," he says. "I'm so sorry. I know you loved him." Again, words are beyond me, so I nod.

Mr. Leland walks around his kitchen, preparing me hot chocolate like he used to when I was a kid, and I let the comfortable silence soothe my head.

Chris, I remember as he hands me a thermos of hot chocolate. "Have any boys come by here in the past day?" I ask, mindlessly sipping the hot chocolate. Perfect temperature. I close my eyes, pleased.

"You're the only person who comes 'round here, dear," he says simply, taking the seat across from me. "But if you're looking for someone whose lost, I noticed yesterday Jenkin's cabin had a fire burning in it. Chimney was pumpin' smoke."

My eyes snap open and I look at him. "Did you see the person inside?" I ask.

"No, just the fire. I assumed it was a boy from the camp trying to escape. They used to try to get into my house every once and a while and I'd have to chase them off." He chuckles at the memory.

Chris is alive, and he doesn't know I'm okay. I grimace at the thought of more walking right then, so I sip on my hot chocolate instead.

Me and Mr. Leland get to talking about anything and everything like how we used to. He jokes about how I owe him big time for talking to Natalie for so long, and I give a smile that doesn't reach my eyes. He doesn't know she's dead, and I don't have the heart to tell him.

I look outside and see the sun is almost a quarter way through its second half of the sky and I push myself up. "Thank you for the company Mr. Leland, I really needed it," I say honestly as I hand him my empty thermos.

"Anytime, sunshine," He gives me a broad smile and hands me my bag, exchanging the thermos. "Stay warm out there."

"You too, pops."

I open the door and shut it behind me, my hand hesitating over the knob. Chris, I remind myself. But he left me. He was terrified, but so was I. I swallowed, moving down the steps and towards the Jenkin's cabin.

They were nice enough people, but always seemed a little hesitant around my family. We were well known in the town so I didn't blame them. I hope if Chris had broken into their house, he left everything alone for the most part.

I reach the new log cabin and move to the window inside. There, right in the center of the living room, surrounded by at least 20 empty liquor bottles, is a boy resting on a couch. Chris.

I move to the front door and open it, inviting myself in. I didn't take Chris to be a drinker, but the evidence was all around. I entered the living room and stood behind the couch, looking down at the boy. Confusion knit my brow.

This boy had medium length blonde hair, a rounded face and a strong yet limber physique. His eyes were closed and his mouth hung open in his sleep, lightly snoring.

What the hell? I pressed my lips into a line and shook the boy's hand, trying to wake him up. He started with a snort, shooting upward. He looked up at me and then was on his feet in an instant, looking at me with the same confusion.

"Who are you?" He asked, alarmed.

"Who are you?" I shot back. "Where's Chris?"

He paled immediately. "What the hell are you talking about? Are you with the police or something?"

I took a step back at his reaction. "No, I'm..." I searched for the right word to say. "A friend."

"He's not here," The boy's demeanor had gone from scared to almost threatening in a matter of seconds.

"Willow," I heard from behind me, and I spun around.

"Chris," I responded in a breath, my heart beating quickly in my chest.

"My names not Chris, bro. I'm Lucas." Even more confusion struck me, and I whipped back around to look at him. "Chris is gone," He added, no readable emotion in his eyes.

"What do you mean?" I asked, confused. Chris had moved beside me, and was standing, inspecting me. "He's right here," I say, gesturing to him. "You're the one whose supposed to be dead."

"You look terrible," he whispered. I gave him a smile and a nudge.

"Woah, you are crazy," Lucas said, grabbing a firepoker and wielding it like a weapon. Chris's hand brushes the edge of my face, his usual coldness seeping some of my warmth.

"What happened?" He asked, and I shook my head.

"I'll tell you later." I returned my attention back to Lucas. "I thought...Chris? I thought he had died," I said, looking confused between the both of them.

"Get the hell out of this house before I make your brain paint these walls," Lucas says, taking an offensive step forward. My eyes widen, and I look to Chris for help.

"Come on. I need to explain something to you," he says, and he grabs my hand and leads me out of the house.

I close the door and hear it snap locked behind me, and I let Chris lead me wherever he's planning. He takes me towards the lake, but stops about a yard from its edge, and sits. I sit with him. The sun is now touching the top of the opposing tree line, making its final moves to descent.

"Willow," he starts with a sigh, and a panic enters his eyes. He starts fidgeting with his hands. "Lucas...can't see me," he explains, pausing to find the right words.

"He was just acting weird," I say, enjoying the peacefulness of the cold, and the quiet, and Chris next to me.

"No, Willow." He sighs, sounding exasperated. "Lucas can't see me. The day I disappeared, I said I thought something awful had happened." He grabbed my hands, and I looked into his eyes green as the forest. "Willow, I'm not...alive."

I pause for a second. "What do you mean?" I ask, shaking my head. "This isn't funny," I say, taking my hand out of his.

"It's not meant to be," he mutters so quietly it's almost a whisper. I shake my head again.

"But, you're here. I can see you. I can feel your touch, I-"

He grabs my face and redirects it to look at his. "I know. I know, okay? I had one hell of a night last night when I came to this realization. I stopped at Mr. Leland's house. I knocked, and he opened the door, and he looked right through me. I waved my hand in front of his face, and it was like he didn't see me at all. And I was so lost, I was so confused, I made myself remember what happened that night, and now, sitting here, I can tell you. Willow, I didn't kill Lucas. I...he...he pushed me into the lake, hard enough to crack the ice and make me fall through. Aiden, Jon and Matt and Natalie were at the edge, watching. And I sank to the bottom. I remember Lucas looking at me with a blank expression, like a child watching fish swim in an aquarium. He had no remorse. Said it was part of my 'camp initiation' because I was new, forced me onto the ice. Let me die." He scoffed. "And when I reopened my eyes, it was night, and I was on a couch, and you were in the kitchen, making tea. I didn't remember anything, so I figured maybe I had, I don't know, fallen into the lake and you rescued me. But that's not what happened."

No. I shook my head. No, no, no. "Chris, I-" I started, but I didn't have words. Everything that had happened in the past two days made me want to tear my hair out and collapse and scream.

He grabbed my hand again, and I ripped mine away, moving away from him. Hurt flashed in his eyes.

"You're lying," I said, my voice cracking. But it all started to make sense. He had been missing for three weeks when I found him in the deep wood. His hands were always icy, skin so pale he was almost transparent. Natalie's reaction when I mentioned his name. Aiden's actions when I told him he was safe, alive. I put my head in my hands, pressing my palms into my eyes. And Lucas couldn't see him.

"What the fuck, Chris?" I asked, looking back up at him. "God, this is so...I don't even know what to say."

"I'm not lying," he said simply.

"I know you're not lying, and that's why I can't-I don't-" my breath starting coming too fast and I couldn't slow it down. I put a hand over my chest. I screamed, pushing myself up suddenly. I kicked the snow hard. "Why couldn't I see it all along? People don't survive in that forest," I yelled, pointing towards the woods. I pressed my palms into my eyes again, and screamed in frustration, pacing back and forth. "I don't even know if I'm real anymore," I hollered, throwing my arms up. "You were the only thing I knew was real, but-but you're not!" I shouted.

"Dude, what the hell?" A familiar voice said from behind me, and I whirled around. Lucas.