Gallant Gönderileri
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She keeps her gaze down and waits, and after a few moments, it bows its half-there head and brings its spectral f i ngers to the keys. They hover there, waiting for her to follow.
Like this, it seems to say, and she places her hands, just like he showed her, and begins, haltingly, to play.
But home is a choice.
And she has chosen Gallant.
If death is a part of the cycle, then so is life. All things fade, and all things flourish.
“Olivia,” he says softly, fi ngers twitching. She takes his hand, bows her head close. “Stay,” he whispers. “Until I fall asleep.”
She grits her teeth against tears and nods.
“I don’t . . .” He falters then, swallows. “I don’t want to be alone.”
He isn’t, of course. She is there, and so are Hannah and Edgar. And then, out of the darkness comes the ghoul.
Arthur Prior sinks to the ground beside his son. He reaches out a hand and strokes the air beside his head. And fi nally, Matthew closes his eyes and rests.
He doesn’t wake again.
But they stay there with him until dawn.