<p>This fanfiction picks up from one month after the last chapter in the book <b>Finale</b>, before the Epilogue.</p> <p>Disclaimer: Occasional reference to a word sometimes considered to be foul language is included in this text. It is used only as a reference to the place “hell” as fits the storyline, and is not meant to offend anyone. :-)</p><br> <p><b>1 Month Later</b></p> <p>I find Lynn Parnell in the crowd, and ignoring the tears staining my cheeks, I approach her.</p> <p>“I’m so sorry, Mrs. Parnell. Scott was a very close friend of mine.”</p><p> My lip trembles and another tear slides down my cheek. My words words float away on the breeze, ineffectual and pointless. I can’t console Scott’s mother, and she doesn’t even know he died for me. Still, she pulls me into a hug and I sniffle into her shoulder, and she into mine.</p> <p>I sit gently next to Vee, smoothing my black dress. I can’t make myself look up. I don’t want to see the picture of Scott’s smiling face. I want to see his real face, alive and glowing. </p> <p> Vee sobs quietly beside me, and I place a hand on her back. Patch walks over, his athletic build popping in a black tuxedo. He sits on my other side. No one besides Vee, Patch and I knows that Scott didn’t die in a car crash near the cemetery. We had to mind trick everyone in Coldwater into seeing a twisted car on the side off the road, instead of seeing devilcraft-blue blood covering the cemetery lawn. No one besides us ever can know how heroically Scott really passed. His death is a weight I will bear forever.</p> <p>They lower Scott’s casket into the grave, in the same cemetery in which he died. His tombstone is an angel holding hands with a human, a secret reminder to me of his Nephilim heritage.</p> <br> <p><b>2 ½ years later</b></p> <p>The news blares on the TV. I sit down with a salad, listening over the sound of my crunching. </p> <p>“Marcie Millar died unexpectedly this afternoon in her home with her mother, Susanna Millar. She went peacefully. The funeral will be held at Coldwater cemetery on Monday, November third.” I blink forcing myself to feel more upset than I do over her death. I knew it would come soon. </p> <p>“Bye, Marcie.” I whisper, trying to remember the rare moments of good she must've had. I come up short. She sent Patch to hell. I almost had to live without him. I feel no sympathy for her surviving family, and I wonder if at this very moment she and Hank are burning in hell together. About time he got some father-daughter bonding time with the one he actually loves. </p> <p>Vee walks into the farmhouse, setting her bag down on the counter and walking through the entryway. My eyes fall upon her, and I see that she looks shaky, pale, and awkward. </p> <p>“Vee? What's wrong?”</p> <p>“Nothing!” She says a little too quickly.</p> <p>I raise my eyebrows, waiting for her to spill. The past few years have been rough on her. I knew she'd visited several psychologists, therapists, and psychiatrists over time, to try to help her deal with Scott's death. She still frequently had night terrors of the tragedy. I still felt the constant ache too, but I couldn't
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- Fall '19
- Raul Keenan
- Eye color, Scott Parnell, .”</p, wrong?”</p