The world moved around me, but I was still. I had no recollection of leaving the restaurant or the two-hour car ride back to Maine. I don't recall getting to Rigby or passing through the familiar rooms. It was as though I was on one of those conveyor belts in the airport that move you along while your mind stays empty. I was alone. It was Jacob's room, surrounded by his things, but I was alone. His book was still sitting on the nightstand. His button-down was flung over the back of his chair.

It was an ache deep in my bones that pulled me downstairs. I heard the voices, but they hardly registered.

"How can he just be gone?" Jess' voice was urgent.

"He wanted to go swimming, so we went down to the river like when we were kids. I barely got my shoes off before he splashed in," Michael explained in his urgent tone.

"How out of it was he?" Jess pressed.

"That's the thing. I don't think he was out of it."

"Michael, Jacob hasn't been clean since he was twelve."

"I don't know what to tell you. I was with him all afternoon. He's hidden none of it from me, and I didn't even see him have a drink. Honestly, a couple of cigarettes, but nothing else." Michael's voice was growing distant as he searched for answers in his mind.

"It makes no sense." The tension filled Jess' voice.

"I don't know, man. He talked about being happy, and then he just wanted to go swimming like when we were kids. He said it was the last time he was this happy." Michael paused for a moment. "Jess, I don't think he did this on purpose." There was a gravity to his voice. "He had plans; plans with Riley."

At my name, my heart pumped again. The blood felt boiling in my icy veins. It burned with the reality I faced.

"Plans? What are you talking about?" Jess dismissed this new information.

"He was going to marry her. That was his plan."

"Is she...?"

"What? No. I mean, I don't think so. Jess, she changed him."

"The last thing I heard from him was singing, And I Love Her, as he splashed around. I was moving his shoes, so they didn't get wet, and when I looked up, he was gone. He was just gone, man."

"Maybe he swam to the other side. Maybe he wanted to get out of here." There was a pleading in Jess' voice as he tried to convince himself he was right.

"I don't think so. I don't think he would have left her. Not after the way he was talking."

"He wouldn't have," I asserted from the door. Both Jess and Michael lifted their eyes to me as I entered. I recognized the looks, the mixture of surprise and fear. I also knew the tone of my voice, the velvety detached authority. "He's dead; the body will turn up soon." Their eyes followed me to the kitchen as I pulled a low ball down from the cabinet and poured a healthy helping of scotch. "We're running low on scotch and cigarettes," I added as I returned to what was now my room.

It took three days, three days of murmured conversations as Jess and Michael tried to keep something close to hope between them. I barely noticed. I took comfort in the scotch's warmth as it burned through me. On day three, a cop showed up at the front door. There is only one reason a cop arrives at your door on a quiet Tuesday. They had found Jacob tangled in some low branches less than half a mile down the river. It was confirmed; Jacob was dead.

The police scoured the house for evidence, confiscating random things: his pills, random papers, his laptop, and his phone. I didn't care. They could take all the things. Jacob was gone; he didn't linger in the physical. I passively watched as I sipped my glass of scotch. Jess convinced himself it was Jacob's final and successful suicide attempt. It would have been nice to think that this was what he wanted. I could have turned bitter and turned on him, on our love. But I knew what Michael knew: Jacob Rigby was once again living just in time to die. Even the toxicology report confirmed Michael's claim; no drugs or alcohol were found in Jacob's system.

None of it mattered. The house owned me now. I picked up where Jacob left off, managing the club from behind the closed door of my four-walled room. Time, motivation, and life had no bearing on me any longer. The club kept me in scotch and cigarettes; that was all I needed.

"Riley." it was a soft knock on my door.

I took my time; nothing rushed me any longer.

"Hello, Matt." My voice came as smooth as still water.

"Hey." His eyes were wide with sorrow and worry. He pulled me into a hug, but my body was rigid in his arms and didn't provide the comfort he wanted. He pulled me away, at arm's length, to inspect me. "How are you?"

"Fine," I answered as I returned to my desk and pulled out a bottle of scotch from the bottom drawer to refill my glass.

"Riley, it's time to go. He's not here."

"Of course, he is not here. I was the first one to know that." I gave a rude laugh at his childishness.

"Come to Boston, turn the page. There are tons of opportunities there."

"I have plenty of opportunities here. The club makes money hand over fist."

"Rigby? You're running Rigby?" His eyes grew wide as who I had become snapped into focus before him. "Riley, this isn't you, the scotch, the cigarettes, Rigby. This is him, not you."

I looked Matt square in the eyes and spoke in an effortlessly even tone. "This is me, Matthew. You are welcome here whenever you want to visit, but do not accuse me of being something I am not."

"Riley..." his voice was called to me now, trying to pull out the small child buried deep within me. I did not hear him; I had already returned to my computer.

Time continued to pass around Rigby, but not within the house's walls. Michael started sending men up to satisfy me. I occasionally let them in if the mood was right, but only long enough to serve their purpose. Then they would be pushed out my door with barely a second glance.

I was entertaining one evening when the pounding started on my door.

"Riley," Jess' voice bellowed through the door.

"What?" I angrily shot as I ripped the door open while still tugging on my t-shirt.

"Sorry, I didn't realize you were entertaining," he offered.

My eyes fell on Joey. He looked older somehow.

"Joey's here," Jess added with a wince.

"Little busy, Jess." I slammed my door on them and turned to the nameless guy in my bed. "You leave," I directed. The man did not argue. He just tugged on his shoes and left without a word.

I slumped to my chair and downed another low ball of scotch before I pulled myself up and headed to the living room.

As if the scene had repeatedly been playing, Jess' eyes darted from his video game and grew wide as I entered. "Riley," he shot from his seat.

"Jess," I greeted with a curt nod. "Joey," I added a second nod. "Is this what I was being beckoned to witness?"

"Yeah, what did you expect?" Jess shrugged before returning to his game.

"Joey, I do not mean to interrupt, but I will be in my room if you want to discuss something," I said before turning away. I knew he would follow.

"Riley, what's happened to you? You have turned yourself into Jacob."

"You are ridiculous, and you look old." I smoothly added.

"Do you even realize that it's been over a year?"

"Has it? I suppose time flows differently here," I mused to myself.

"Riley, the lost year is over. It's time to rejoin the living."

"Joey, I have been quite clear. This is where I belong."

"No, Riley, this isn't you. This isn't where you belong or who you are. Just come with me."

"I will see you out." I rose, knowing there was nothing more to come of the conversation.

"See me out, Riley?"

I peered into his face, and something tried to rise in me for a fraction of a moment. A small feeble child tried to raise her head and push her future into my eyes, but she failed as quickly as the effort was attempted.

"It was good to see you, Joey. Send my best to Matthew." I let a hand lift to his shoulder as I opened the door.

We walked in silence to the front door.

"Riley, leave right now. Just come with me," he said on the door's threshold.

"Joey, this is my home," I placidly smiled.

Joey stared at me, looking for the girl he had known, but she was gone, and hope died in his eyes that evening. He and Matt never returned to Rigby.

I paused in the living room, sitting between Jess and Michael on the couch. Neither lifted their eyes from their video game, but Jess let an elbow nudge me and murmured, "welcome home, sis."