Samson couldn't find Autumn or Felix, but now he couldn't seem to find Emily either. She had completely disappeared, and he was beginning to worry. Boots crunching in the snow, his eyes widened when he saw Finley lying peacefully in the snow, red surrounding her. He turned pale, slackening against one of the stalls.

He continued to call out Emily's name, searching through the snow for any sign of her somewhere. She couldn't have gone very far, and she was still alive, right?

She had to still be alive.

He heard the sound of crunching snow and whipped around to see someone struggling to escape a fallen pile of wood.

"Samson, help, please," Emily coughed, shivering, and trying to clamber out of the fallen stall.

He immediately dropped to his knees in the snow, carefully pulling all of the wood off of her. Her fingers were bloody and littered with wood splinters. He was quick to take off his coat and wrap her with it to stop the incessant shivering. All he could do was hope he wasn't too late, and she would warm up soon.

"Emily, I am so sorry," Samson gasped, the cold wind piercing his skin. "This is my fault."

She burrowed deeper into his coat. "Don't-Don't y-you see? L-Look at what t-they did to this p-place."

As Samson glanced up from Emily, he scanned the once pristine marketplace now littered with ruin, and he saw Finley once again laying there. Samson shuddered as he cradled his friend in his arms.

"I do, I-I do see it," he whispered. "I'm so sorry."

Emily sighed. "I-I lied."

Samson frowned, looking at her face. "Lied? About what?"

"A-About hating y-you. I d-don't."

"But you should hate me. You have every right to," Samson began. "I'm a horrible person."

All he could see was Finley laying there. All he could do was look at her. Emily followed his gaze until she too saw Finley laying in a pool of crimson.

Emily smiled sadly. "She saved me from Wells."

"I'm a horrible person," Samson choked, feeling a wave of nausea wash over him.

"No, you're not. Y-You're n-not a horrible p-person," Emily retorted, teeth still chattering. "Please, h-help me up."

Samson helped Emily stand to her feet, and she kept a tight grip on his arm as they moved closer to Finley.

"It's my fault," Emily said. "I-I was in o-over my head, and t-then all of t-this happened because of it."

She broke free from Samson, stumbling over to where Finley was a few feet away. She kneeled beside her, shaky hands gingerly brushing a couple of stray strands of hair out of her face.

"S-She really did h-have a family, you know," Emily said, voice soft. "A husband and two sons."

Samson kneeled down next to Emily in the snow. Emily could feel a lump rising in her throat, but she tried to keep her tears at bay. Finley wouldn't have wanted her to break down. She would have wanted her to keep going.

"She deserves to have a proper burial," Emily concluded, looking at Samson.

Samson found his voice. "I agree."

Together, they made a burial for Finley, and Emily managed to find a few flowers that hadn't withered in the cold. It was brief, but both Emily and Samson thanked Finley. Emily couldn't stay along much longer, or she knew she would cry.

Samson began building a fire in the distance while Emily shivered under his winter coat. As the fire grew, the two of them sat in silence and stared at the glowing embers. Samson could feel Emily's gaze on him, but he wasn't sure where to start.

"I was wrong," he finally said, hands hovering over the fire.

Emily raised her eyebrows.

"I have just been pretending. You were right about me. I'm just like Sylvia and Wells. I should have never turned Finley in, or turned you in. I did it because I thought it was the right thing to do, but I went about it all wrong. I was completely wrong," he continued, eyes straying from the fire and looking at Emily.

Emily didn't say anything at first, taking in the sound of the crackling fire. Samson sat still, anticipating her response.

"I was wrong too," she said. She pulled the coat closer. "I shouldn't have said all of those things. Am I excusing what you did? No, no I'm not. But I still shouldn't have said those things when I really didn't mean them. You're not like Sylvia or Wells, and it's not like you had a choice to come to the fortress. I don't hate you."

"I understand why you said those things though. I know my parents wanted the best for me, but I was hardly able to make my own decisions," Samson replied. "I should have told you the truth."

Emily sighed. "Didn't you make your own decision by coming here? Wait—" She paused, her hand shifting from the fire and pointing to the ground. "How did you even get my sword?"

Samson replayed all of the various moments up until this point, suddenly remembering how he had snatched Emily's sword from Sylvia's sheath.

"So," Samson began. "I might have gone and searched for it. Couldn't find it in your room. Can you guess where I might have found it?"

Emily pondered his question for a moment, but soon she shook her head.

"Sylvia had it," Samson said, watching Emily's eyes widen.

"Sylvia?" she gasped. "Are you kidding me? How did she find it? It was in my room—" A deadpan expression spread across Emily's face. "She stole stuff from my room, of course, she did."

Silence again.

"Thank you for getting my sword back though. I hope she didn't give you too much trouble," Emily said.

"She didn't, but that reminds me, I brought Olly and Elle as well. Figured you would be upset if I left them at the fortress."

Emily smiled. "Thanks Samson." She noticed his expression. "I don't hate you. I already told you that. You're my best friend."

"O-Okay," Samson said, voice wavering.

"When I first showed up to the fortress, I second-guessed myself over and over again. And when I first met you, I really didn't like you. I thought you difficult, annoying. But I soon learned I was also the difficult one, and I realized a lot of the people at the Red Cloak fortress are like you, and Felix, and Mrs. Finley," Emily explained. "I wasn't there for very long, but I did learn a lot while I was there."

Samson frowned. "So, you don't hate me?"

"No, I don't. But we most certainly cannot let the Red Cloaks continue like they are. Because while there are people like you, there are also people like Wells and Sylvia. They're not going to stop until they get what they want, and we can't let it happen," Emily declared. She held out her hand. "So, it's time for a new plan. We do this for Ms. Finley."

She waited for a response, hand outstretched, watching as Samson's gaze hardened a new light appeared in his eyes. He took her outstretched hand.

"For Finley."

Autumn's worrying only worsened when Felix was still limp beside her. The trio had been silent during their entire walk home, but it wasn't the silence Autumn found concerning. It was the way Felix walked so stiffly beside her, like he had been sucked of all the life in his body.

She understood, but obviously she was also worried. She hadn't even known Finley for a couple of minutes and still felt the pain of losing her. She couldn't imagine how Felix was feeling in this moment.

As they drew closer to the house, Autumn couldn't help but wonder if Samson had found his friend. She hoped he had.

She soon saw her house, her small and lovely house. A place which she missed dearly. Even Felix lifted his head when he realized where they were. Autumn picked up her pace, careful to also support Felix at the same time, but all she wanted to do was be home.

Her parents and Dara were waiting for them on the other side of the door. Her parents embraced them. Her mom gestured to Felix, and Autumn could only shake her head. It was as if her mother understood without actually having to hear the words. They helped Felix inside while Autumn and Blaise remained outside, watching more snowflakes fall to the ground.

The view from the front door didn't feel the same as it did over a month ago. Instead, it reminded her of the day she and Blaise were captured. It reminded her of everything that happened afterwards, the good and the bad.

"It doesn't feel the same, does it?" Blaise piped up, as if she had read Autumn's mind. "It's been quite the night, quite the month really."

Autumn's eyes remained on the falling snow. "Yes, it has been."

"Are we still going to the Land of the Glowing Willows?"

"I believe we will eventually," Autumn said. "But for now, we're home, and that is what matters."

With Blaise perched on her shoulder, Autumn finally turned the doorknob to go inside, away from the cold. No, it would probably never be the same again. But at least for now, they were safe at home.

For now.