Archive of Our Own ^beta

Even as a kid, Nancy would wake at the slightest creak of the house, or a screech of tires just outside of the neighborhood. 

She wasn’t asleep when her phone rang, the ceiling turning blue from the light. There were too many things to think about. 

Lev was dead. It wasn’t really Nancy’s fault, but she should have known. To not trust Temperance from the start. To not put Lev into any hands but her own. Now he was just another name on a list Nancy wished didn’t exist. 

And then there was the other thing. 

The I’ve had feelings for you for a long time, thing. The when you’re ready to not avoid, I’ll be here, thing. 

Was she avoiding? Or was time never in their favor—their paths diverging at just the wrong moment. Marked by cookies you could freeze forever, an old lock that opened to a liminal space, and now a two-hundred-year-old aunt with a plan to enact the New Genesis. 

Nancy knew it was a long time for her too, even if she hadn’t known until she stood on the bluffs with a baby in her arms who happened to be her. 

After everything, she figured there were stranger moments to realize you were in love. Maybe his moment wasn’t strange at all. A smile exchanged as he passed her a bowl of clam chowder through the kitchen window of The Claw. Or maybe a glance up from his laptop to meet her gaze from behind his shoulder. 

Avoiding was easy, yet so was loving him. 

Nancy pulled her arm out from her blankets and grabbed her phone off of her nightstand. She checked the screen and squinted against the harsh light.

Ace. 

Her heart rate quickened. When you lived the life she did, calls at 5:07 AM weren’t unusual. She never had her phone on silent just in case a dead body walked out of the morgue or someone was possessed by a spirit (again). But Ace always waited until daybreak.

She answered the call and pressed her phone to her ear. “Hello?”

The heavy breathing she heard on the other end did nothing to ease her worry. 

“Ace—”

“It’s me,” he said, sounding like he’d choked just to speak those two words. 

“I know," she said, sitting up. "What— What happened?” Outside, a car drove by her house. For a moment, her room was illuminated—shadows cast across her in the shape of the blinds hung across the windows. 

“No, it’s me. I have the fourth piece.”

“You…” The rest of the sentence caught in her throat, and her blood ran cold. 

I’m not afraid anymore. 

His mouth hot on her neck, her shirt unbuttoned and his on the floor. 

I’m a part of something much bigger. 

Her hand on his chest, pushing him back to see his heart frozen. 

“Okay. Um.” Nancy took a deep breath, pushing her hand through her tangled hair. She moved all of the blankets back and got out of bed. The hardwood floor was ice on her bare feet. 

“I’ll wake up Bess,” she explained, taking a shirt out of the top drawer of her dresser. She didn’t bother to check whether it matched the pants she found on the floor. “Let’s meet at the loft. You and Nick are already there. We’ll need the soul splitter back. Someone needs to call George—”

“Nancy.”

She paused, listening to his breathing. It was more even now although she was still trying to catch hers. 

“I’m sorry.”

Thirty minutes later, Nancy and Bess turned into the dark parking lot of Nick’s building. The windows of the Sunbeam were still frost-covered, scraped only enough to make driving possible. 

“Okay,” said Bess, turning off her phone. “I think I have a way to split Charity’s soul from Ace’s.”

Nancy pulled into a parking spot and changed the gear to park. “Without destroying it?”

“Yes. It’ll be similar to when we split George’s soul from Odette’s, but the preparation is slightly different.” Bess unbuckled her seat belt, and Nancy took the key from the ignition. “As long as we can get the soul splitter back, we have plenty of time before the Copperhead comes after him."

Nancy released a breath. She still had her left hand on the steering wheel and loosened her grip. “Temperance has it.”

Bess worried at her bottom lip. “I know. And there’s no way she would hand it over without a price.”

“Which means we need to just take it. Do you know if she’ll be out at all?”

Bess nodded. “She goes out for coffee and a croissant every morning. That will be our best shot.”

“Alright.” Nancy unbuckled her seatbelt and got out of the car. Along with Bess, she walked to the entrance of Nick’s building. The parking lot was slick in places, and they were careful to avoid any ice. 

Nancy got to the door first. It was unlocked, and she pulled it open for Bess. 

“Hey, how are you doing?” Nancy heard Bess say. 

It was Ace’s voice that followed. “I’m fine. You?”

Nancy stepped inside and let the door fall shut behind her. Bess and Ace were near the stairwell. He had likely come downstairs to unlock the door for them.

“Me?” Bess pulled him into a half-hug. “You’re the one with a piece of Charity’s soul.”

Ace sighed as Bess let go of him. What he said next was too quiet for Nancy to catch.  

When Nancy woke Bess, her reaction had been similar to Nancy’s. First panic, followed by a similar jump into action as she dressed and ran through a list of resources she wanted to check on soul-splitting. 

It wasn’t the first time the clock was ticking on the life of one of their friends. It was a relief to feel experienced and frightening to think this was normal. 

This likely wouldn’t be the last time either. 

“Nancy,” Ace said softly. 

She blinked a few times, her eyes finding Ace’s. The lighting in the entrance was dim, and with it being so early, little came through the glass door. Bess had left them, and the sound of her footsteps grew quieter as she climbed the stairs. 

“Yeah?” she asked. 

“You just seemed zoned-out.”

“Oh.” 

He still stood by the stairwell, seeming unsure of whether he should come closer. So she decided for him and joined him there. She wrapped her fingers around the strap of her messenger bag. Maybe to keep herself from touching him, she didn’t know. 

“Do you have any other symptoms?” she asked. 

He shrugged. “Just the one nightmare. I was on the battlefield with Beckett Dow.”

Nancy nodded. With Jake, there was tapping, diagrams, and bible quoting. If Ace had only dreamed once, that was a good sign. 

“What about the thermostat? You don’t want to change it to 58 degrees?”

A small smile crossed his face, disappearing before she could savor it. “No, not yet. If I touched it though, Nick would find me quicker than the Copperhead.”

Nancy’s smile was just as weak. She didn’t know what else to say. Maybe there was no right thing to say to someone who held a piece of your ancestor’s soul and would be dead by midnight if it couldn’t be removed. 

But they would save him, and it would leave her with a chance to not avoid. To tell him how she felt, and that she too had felt that way for a long time. 

“On the phone… Why did you apologize?” She held the strap of her bag tighter. 

“I— don’t know.” Ace shrugged. “It’s not like I want a piece of Charity’s soul.”

“Right, but it’s not your fault.”

“I know.” He nodded once, breaking from the way he held her gaze. A moment of silence passed, and he took a breath, looking back at her. “Can I ask you something?”

"Anything."  

“If we can’t split my soul,” Ace said, his face serious, “I want to write a letter for my parents.”

“Ace…”

“And if I give it to you, would you make sure they get it?”

“Of course.” Nancy swallowed against the lump forming in her throat. She didn’t want to think about a reality where she would give them that letter. A reality without him. 

“Thanks,” he murmured. 

She nodded, her eyes falling to the worn leather of his shoes. Forcing herself to look back at his face, she pressed her nails into the strap of her bag. “How are things?”

“With my parents?”

“Yeah, ever since…” Everything with Bertram Bobbsey and Grant. Everything that led his father to tell him not to come home. 

Ace had struggled to tell her that as he walked her to her car that night. They were similar in that way, wanting to shoulder things alone when they didn’t have to. 

“Things are okay,” he said slowly. “We had dinner last Friday.”

“How did that go?”

“Awkward.” He shrugged weakly. “My mom was doting, and my dad didn't say much, even more than usual. They’re still dealing with it.”

Nancy stepped closer. “How are you dealing with it?”

“Okay. I’ll be fine. As long as we can…”

“We can.” She took her hand off the strap of her bag, and before she could put it back, he reached for it. 

He held her hand just at the end, brushing his thumb over the bend in her fingers. 

“Can you tell you have it?” she asked.

He kept his eyes on their hands. “What do you mean?” 

“A piece of Charity’s soul.” 

His eyes flickered to her face, then back to their hands. “After the nightmare, I thought I could. But it was probably just my imagination.” He brought her hand to his chest and placed it over his heart. Her own heart skipped a beat.

She felt the warmth of his body through his shirt, nothing like her nightmare where he’d turned ice cold. His heartbeat was steady, quick too under her touch. 

“Ace…” she said, looking up to meet his eyes.

I have feelings for you too, she wanted to say. I should tell you before it’s too late. 

But before she could, the door to the building opened. She dropped her hand from his chest and turned to look.

“Alright,” said George. She pulled her hood down and shook out her hair. “Who’s ready for soul-splitting round two?”

Ace looked peaceful with his eyes closed and the steady rise and fall of his chest. If not for the fact he was lying on a table in a room of Icarus Hall, Nancy would be glad to see him this way. 

She hadn’t seen him this way lately. 

Not since the early summer days at The Claw. Before the murders and the ghosts. Before everything went wrong, but enough things went right to make it all worth it. The friendships and family they had formed. The love that filled the cracks.

Ace gasped, and his eyes opened, his hand wrapping around her elbow. Nancy moved her hand to his back as he sat up. 

Maybe when this was all over she could be his peace. 

In the youth center parking lot, Nancy had watched as Temperance's body turned to dust. 

Yet here was Ace, telling her she was amazing. As if to say, you did what you had to do. 

Here was Ace, following her to the coffee pot and mentioning blind spots, only to let her know they didn’t have to talk about that right now. 

But Nancy wanted to because ever since September, here was Ace was something she wanted.  

He was by her side when she learned Lucy Sable was her mother. He held her hand in New York as she fought the Wraith. He found her soaked in acetone and blew out the match. 

So she asked him to walk her home, and they were halfway to the door when Ryan collapsed.

Carson shouted to clear his airway, but that wasn’t the problem. The shrapnel from the hatchet embedded in his neck was. 

They pushed two tables together and paper menus to the floor. 

Nancy held Ryan and listened to him beg for his life. 

She called him Dad just before he went still. 

Nancy hadn’t been home when her mom died. She had been at a winter formal, pretending her life wasn’t falling apart.

With her head on Ryan’s silent chest, she knew this was just as bad. 

There was a voice speaking. 

There was a hand on her arm. 

“Nancy,” said the voice again. The hand tightened. “Nancy, the paramedics are here.”

She picked her head up to find Carson, framed by the red and blue lights flashing through the windows of The Claw. It took a moment to find her voice, and when she did, it sounded far away like it didn’t belong to her. 

"They’ll help him,” she said. 

Carson wiped his tears with the back of his hand and swallowed hard. “We just need to step back, okay?”

She couldn't find her voice again and only nodded.  

The door to The Claw opened, cold December air drifting in. Reality cleared a little as the paramedics came through the door. 

Carson stepped away to meet them. Nancy saw Nick and George by the bar, Nick’s hand covering his mouth and George frozen at his side. Bess was on a chair near them with her hands clasped in her lap. 

When one of the paramedics announced a time of death, Nancy’s vision went blurry. She felt hands on her arms. 

“Hey, your dad said you don’t have to stay out here.”

Nancy looked up to see Ace. His face was tear-streaked. “Ryan is my dad.” 

Ace moved his head, but it wasn’t quite a nod. 

“He’s gone.” Her breathing quickened, and she grasped for anything, catching the fabric of Ace’s shirt sleeve. “He’s—”

He was the third parent she’d lost in less than a year. 

Kate in February. 

Lucy for a second time in October. Nancy had already lost her the day she was born without even knowing.  

And now Ryan was gone too. 

“I’m alone again.” A sob wracked her body. Ace wrapped his arms around her, and she pressed her face to his chest. Her tears soaked his shirt. 

If she hadn’t given Temperance her trust, Temperance never could have opened the veil. Ryan wouldn’t have been at the veil. Ryan wouldn’t be dead. 

“I could have saved him,” Nancy said, her voice breaking. An entire piece of herself it took nineteen years to know, and she had lost him in seconds.

Ace sniffled, and Nancy looked up at him. His eyes were filled with tears. They fell when he blinked, trailing down his face. 

Any of them could have saved Ryan. But they hadn’t, and it left Nancy to watch as the paramedics covered his body. 

The body of her father, who just a week and a half ago, had walked with her through the woods.

When she asked him to tell a story about Lucy, he had looked at her with a wistful smile. She made me laugh all the time. 

She didn’t want Ryan to be a story for her to tell. She wanted him here.

Nancy tore her eyes away, pressing her face back to Ace’s chest.  

His heartbeat was strong, steady. 

She held him tighter. 

Nancy was familiar with the strangeness of time touched by death. 

The days were long but when night came, it also felt like the sun had risen just minutes ago. 

It was two weeks now since Ryan died. Nancy sat at the kitchen table, a bowl of cereal in front of her. 

Carson was at the counter, knotting his tie and watching the coffee maker slowly fill his mug. Soon he would be at work, and Nancy would still be here—watching her cereal turn soggy. 

There was a knock at the door, and Nancy glanced up from the spoon she had been tapping against the table. 

Normally, this was when she’d go upstairs. Stay in her room until whoever it was had left. Sometimes a neighbor with a lasagna, sometimes a flower delivery, oftentimes Ace with a carton of sorbet. 

She dropped her spoon to the table but remained seated. It was early, and whoever was at the door wouldn't stay long. 

"I'll get it," Carson said as he walked by. 

Nancy listened as Carson unlocked the front door and pulled it open. 

“Morning, Ace,” he said. Even for the early hour, Carson didn’t seem surprised he was here. Ace came by every few days, although Nancy hadn’t seen him herself since the day of Ryan’s funeral. Carson and Bess were the only people she had seen since that day. 

“Hey, Mr. D.,” said Ace. He stayed in the mudroom, and Nancy got up from her chair to better hear his voice. “I just wanted to bring this for Nancy.”

“Thanks. I’ll make sure to give it to her.”

There was a brief silence, and Nancy imagined Ace handing Carson whatever he had brought.

“How has she… how is she?” Ace asked. 

“She appreciates you coming by,” Carson said, his voice careful. He didn’t say she was doing okay or doing better. If that was the case, Nancy might have answered the door.

“Can you just let her know I’m here if she ever…” Nancy was at the edge of the kitchen, but Ace’s voice was too quiet for her to catch the end of his sentence. 

“Yeah, of course,” said Carson. “You look nice. What are you up to today?”

“I have my interview with Connor.” 

“Oh, good luck! I’m sure you’ll do great.” 

Nancy heard a muffled reply from Ace and a creak in the floor as Carson stepped back.

“Thanks for stopping by.”

The front door clicked shut, and Nancy moved back to her chair. 

Carson returned to the kitchen. He had a box in his hands, wrapped in silver paper with white snowflakes. “That was Ace,” he explained, setting the box on the table in front of Nancy. 

She nodded and made no move to take the box. It was neatly wrapped with smooth creases and a straight line where the two ends of the paper met.

“He wanted to bring over a late Christmas gift,” said Carson, nodding his head at the box. “No sorbet this time. Which is probably a good thing, because we’re starting to run out of room in the freezer.” He smiled faintly, but Nancy didn’t smile back.

“Yeah,” she said. 

“He said if you ever want to get out of the house, you can text him too.” 

Nancy nodded, picking her spoon back up. She missed him, but she wasn’t ready to do that. Not after everything with Temperance and Ryan. Not after all of the decisions she hated herself for. 

“Well…” Carson sighed, checking his watch. “I think I’m going to have to take my coffee to go. Remember I have to go to the other office today, but there’s pasta in the fridge you can reheat for dinner.”

She nodded again, pushing the spoon around her bowl. The cereal was soggy, the milk now saturated with chocolate from the cocoa puffs. Behind her, Carson rummaged through a kitchen cabinet. 

“I’ll call if I’ll be home any earlier or later,” he said.

Nancy looked up to see him now at the edge of the kitchen, a reusable coffee cup in hand. “Okay,” she said. “I’ll see you tonight.”

With a goodbye, Carson was out the door, and Nancy was alone again. 

Blinking back tears, Nancy pushed her cereal bowl to the side. She reached for the gift and tore the wrapping paper where it was folded. 

The gift was a 1,000 piece puzzle of rainbow llamas. She laughed, wiping tears before they could fall. 

Llamas were her favorite animal as a kid. Of course Ace would remember, even if she had mentioned it randomly one night as they closed The Claw. Or maybe that time he followed her upstairs in search of a spare flash drive, and he had spotted the stuffed llama on her shelf in the corner. 

She leaned back in her chair, staring at the gift. 

Three days ago, she had been looking for printer ink when she found a much smaller box, shoved into the back of a drawer normally left untouched. Based on its size, it looked to be a jewelry box—wrapped in red paper with green Christmas trees. Nancy was scrawled across the paper in black marker. Ryan’s handwriting, yet she refused to unwrap it. 

He must have gone Christmas shopping early, just as he had insisted they put the tree up the day after Thanksgiving.

Already, it was her first Christmas without Kate. But Ryan had made things a little easier. He was adamant they continue old traditions, like garland strung with popcorn and dried cranberries. He wanted to start new ones too. Like a movie night with hot chocolate and sugar cookies. 

Nancy realized now, he had been trying to make up for lost time—already having missed every other Christmas of her life. 

In the end, he would miss them all.

It was late January when Nancy returned to The Claw. 

Not to work, but to meet with Agent Park before he left for Boston. Yet it was nice to see Bess and George. To hug them and know Nick was getting a chance to visit Florida. 

Other parts were not so nice. 

As she sat at the bar, she tried not to think of that night. How Ryan died on tables six and seven—the same tables Bess had just brought a salad and an order of fries to. Keeping her mind off of that night was an impossible task, as that night was all she ever thought about. 

“I would offer you some sorbet, but…” 

Nancy turned to see Ace set down a box. At the fondness in his eyes, her face softened.

She was happy to see him too. But it was hard to go outside when she feared who she was to the world. Amid mourning Ryan, she lived with the fact she had taken Temperance’s life. 

She felt safe sharing that with Ace, though. After all this time, it seemed she had found the words.

In return, he led her out of The Claw and down the streets of Horseshoe Bay. 

He showed her the places she saved. The cafe, the flower shop, the place on the corner that sold antiques. 

He showed her the people behind the places. The people who cherished her, without even needing to know what she had done. 

When they stopped beside the ice cream parlor, Ace said they loved her. He told her he was with them. 

And she told him what she’d been meaning to say since the day she stood on his doorstep, and he wasn’t home. 

“Here it is,” Ace said, shutting the door behind them. 

Nancy slipped off her shoes and dropped her coat on the chair by the door. He hung his coat on a hook. “Do I get the grand tour?”

“I don’t know about grand,” he said with a laugh. 

His apartment was smaller than Nick’s loft but still spacious. The front door opened to the main living area, and around the corner was a bedroom. To the right was the kitchen. It was a comfortable space. With warm light, soft green walls, and exposed brick. 

She walked to the other side of the room and ran her hand over the back of the couch. “Your throw pillow matches the art.” The pillow was striped with orange, red, and blue, the same colors as the framed art. It reminded her of his striped blue coat. “Did Bess help?”

When she turned back to him, he tried to hide his smile. “How’d you know?” 

Nancy smiled. “Just a hunch.” She walked across the room and paused to scan the titles of the books stacked on the table. Many were classics, but knowing Rebecca, that was no surprise. 

“Can I go in here?” She stopped in the doorway to his bedroom. 

He nodded, and she stepped into it. The walls were the same soft green. There was open shelving beside the bed and another set of shelves in the corner. A large window behind the bed let in bright light. 

“So what do you think?” he asked. 

Nancy joined him in the center of the room. She could tell he wanted her to like it. His face was the same as on their walk when he told her he was accepted for the job at the morgue. 

She was proud of him and had been proud of him even before he had either of those things. Reaching for his hands, she looked up at him. “It feels like a home.” 

His eyes flickered to her mouth and then back to her eyes. “Maybe now that you’re here.”

When he first kissed her, it was softly. Fitting for the way their relationship worked—soft touches, glances, and words. 

Soon his back was against the wall, and her hands were in his hair. 

It was he who moved them to the bed and looking up at him, she knew she loved him.

Nancy liked to think she knew everything about Ace. 

Blue was his lucky color. When he was sixteen, he lost his parents' keys in the supermarket parking lot. He refused to use anything but a specific brand of mint shampoo. 

She didn’t know until now that he smiled in his sleep. 

There was sunlight falling through the blinds and the warmth of Ace’s bare skin. His arms were wrapped around her, and he pressed his lips to hers, kissing her slowly. 

For once, time was in their favor. 

“I’m gonna get us breakfast," she said when they broke apart. She pressed a kiss to his heart.

“What kind of breakfast?” he asked, his voice still scratchy with sleep. 

Nancy pulled on and buttoned her jeans. When she put her shirt over her head, she felt static in her hair and smoothed it down. 

“Why, are you picky?” She sat on the edge of the bed and pulled on her socks. 

He laughed, and she felt butterflies in her stomach. “I’m not picky.” 

Nancy turned to him. Although she was now dressed, the sight of his tousled hair and easy grin would be enough to keep her here forever. 

“Can I take this?” she asked, standing up.

“Take what?” His eyebrows were furrowed as he picked his head up from the pillow. 

“This shirt." She pulled the flannel down from where it hung off the shelf. 

“You’re stealing my shirt?"

“It’s not stealing if I ask,” Nancy said, slipping her arms into the sleeves. The flannel was big on her, but she liked that the sleeves fell to her fingertips. She liked the way the fabric was soft and smelled like him.

“What if I say no?”

"Then I'll be cold." 

"Well…” His eyes dragged over her. “I wouldn’t want that.”

Nancy smiled, crawling back across the bed. She flopped down next to him, and he turned onto his side, kissing her forehead. 

"Maybe I'll just stay here instead," she said, shifting closer. 

He draped his arm over her waist. "And I can keep you warm." 

"Mhmm." Her voice was muffled from the way she had her head tucked under his chin. 

"But then no breakfast." 

"No. But…" Nancy shifted back to look at him. "That's why I need your shirt." 

Ace smiled and shifted toward her to kiss her again. "I guess that's a fair trade." 

There is nothing to be afraid of. 

It was the last thing Ace said before another car ran a stop sign and slammed directly into them. 

They spun across the intersection, directly into a pole. The sound of metal on metal echoed, and then everything went quiet. 

Nancy's head was pounding. 

There was blood on her face. Blood on her hands when she touched it. 

Ace was gone. 

She got out of the Sunbeam, stumbling across the road and into the weeds. 

He was limp. His coat soaked with blood and his eyes closed. She pulled him onto her lap, screaming for help as she brushed her fingers over his swollen face. 

Temperance came instead.

None of this is real. 

Nancy had never been more relieved and devastated at once.  

She had mourned Ryan for a month. All the while, he was alive. 

She now held Ace dead in her arms. He was also alive. 

But she had loved Ace too. Had a taste of his mouth, his hands on her body. 

What it would be like to hold his hand surrounded by everyone that loved them. 

She would mourn that too, especially now as Temperance told her of the curse. 

It left her to choose between the two halves of her heart. 

After all the loss she had endured and a month in a reality that didn't exist, maybe she deserved to be selfish. To choose them and an ending they would never get otherwise. 

When Nancy held the hatchet above Temperance, encouraged by Ryan and Bess to finish this, it was Ace that asked if she was okay. 

Because of course he would. He was all things good when the world was all bad. 

She dropped the hatchet and said to run. 

Trust me. I’m doing this for us, okay?

She could hear the blare of the emergency sirens. 

She could feel the whip of the wind and taste sea salt in the air. 

Nancy grabbed Ace by his jacket, knowing this would be the last time she could hold him this close. Touch him like this. 

In his face, she only saw confusion and concern. 

He didn’t know about the other reality. Ryan’s death and a freezer filled with sorbet. The walk they took down Main Street. The way he held her and kissed her. The way she held him dead in her arms. 

But Nancy now knew the choice she had to make.

I’m so sorry.

Losing Ace was hard because it happened not just in the weeds off the side of the road or in the moment she took the hatchet to Temperance's back.

Instead, it happened a hundred times over. 

It happened every time she woke to grey light falling through her window, the other side of the bed cold. A blanket wrapped tight around her just as his arms once were. 

It happened every time he parked Florence in the parking lot of The Claw, and she cut her shift short and slipped out the back. Sometimes she didn’t even leave. She’d sit on an overturned bucket beside the dumpster as snowflakes drifted down around her. 

It was December.

Then January.

It was cold and the cement was covered in snow. 

He never came outside to look for her. Part of her wished he did. Part of her knew it was better he didn’t.

Nancy kept her job at The Claw if only to stay busy until Icarus Hall was hers. 

With the rest of her life in shambles, it was easier to appreciate the tedious tasks of rolling silverware into napkins and filling ketchup bottles. 

She slung her messenger bag over her shoulder, pulled an envelope from the front pocket, and slammed her locker closed.

Just as she turned away from it, Ace stepped into the backroom. He had his coat and a hat on—both covered in melted snowflakes. 

“Hi,” he said when he saw her. 

“Hey.” She met his gaze only long enough to see his eyes catch on the envelope she held. He didn’t ask what it was and didn’t try to stop her as she brushed past him.

From his perspective—there was little reason for her to avoid him. 

This wasn’t the other reality, where she had lost Ryan and he had come to her door every few days with a carton of sorbet, once with a puzzle.

In this reality, only she knew what was lost. But he gave her space without needing a reason to.  

From the kitchen, Nancy headed for the office. She knocked on the door three times before she heard Nick’s come in. 

“Hey, Nancy,” he said as she stepped inside. She shut the door behind her. 

“Do you have a minute?”

“Yeah.” He gathered the papers scattered across the desk into a pile and set it off to the side. 

Nancy held the envelope out as she sat in the chair across from him. “My two weeks’ notice.” 

“Oh,” he said with a nod. He took the envelope and set it on top of the stack of papers. “I guess I should have seen this coming.”

“Yeah. I’m just waiting for the paperwork to put Icarus Hall under my name.”

“How’s that going?”

“Alright. I think I can do some good with the place.” 

“I'm sure you can. Better than anything Temperance ever used it for.”

Nancy nodded, glancing around the office at the shelves with extra menus and all the paperwork that kept The Claw running. Only six months ago she had started working here, spending plenty of time in this very chair as George lectured on the importance of punctuality. 

“We’ll miss you here,” said Nick.

Nancy looked back at him. “I think even after everything I’ll miss it too.” 

When she started at The Claw, she no longer knew what she wanted out of life. Kate was dead. Columbia was no more than a dream from before.  

But then she met Nick on the Fourth of July. And slowly, the co-workers she could barely tolerate became her partners. Her friends. Her family. 

Nancy pulled a folded napkin from her pocket. She had written a list of name ideas on her lunch break, all of them crossed out but one. “I wanted to ask if you’d help design my logo.” 

Nick smiled. “Yeah, I could do that.” She handed him the napkin, and he read it over. “Nancy Drew Investigations. I like it.”

“I figured it was time I go official,” she said, adjusting the way her bag hung off her shoulder. “And solo.”

His smile faded. “If you ever need a crew, you still have one.” 

Nancy pressed her lips together and nodded. “I know.”

“Um.” His eyes flickered from the napkin to her, seeming unsure if he wanted to start this conversation. 

“If this is about—” she began.

“No,” Nick said, shaking his head. “It’s none of my business.”

Over the past weeks, Nancy could tell everyone knew something was going on between her and Ace. 

George never said anything, but she had started scheduling Nancy’s shifts separate from Ace's without needing to be asked. 

Bess wasn’t hesitant to point out Nancy’s new tendency to avoid him. But if there was anything Nancy was good at—it was shutting down conversations she didn’t want to have. 

Nick met Nancy’s gaze and chose his words carefully. “I just wanted to say that there’s nothing wrong with letting people care for you. Letting yourself be cared for. I think that’s part of why it’ll be nice to have my parents. If only for a little while.”

Nancy nodded. Only in her case, she couldn’t let Ace care. That left her to mourn a relationship that wasn’t lost but had to be. “For what it’s worth, we all care about you here too, Nick.”

“I know. And I appreciate that. But sometimes, you can only get what you need from certain people, you know?”

Nancy nodded. She knew exactly what he met. 

She just couldn’t have that person. 

Two weeks later, Ace put in his notice at The Claw. 

She didn’t know why she went to his apartment. There was nothing she could say to save him. 

But even when she shouldn’t be, she was still drawn to him. 

The door to his apartment was unlocked, and she let herself inside, placing her coat and bag on the chair by the door. The walls were the same soft green, and just like the day she spent here, sunlight came through the windows. 

It was a case of déjà vu, only this time things wouldn’t end with bagels or his flannel over her shirt. This time wouldn’t end with her car smashing into a pole either, and for that—she was grateful. 

The flannel sat folded on the table, and she ran her hand over the soft fabric. His morgue ID was there too, and she picked it up, reading Coroner’s Assistant under his photo. Without The Claw as a commonality in their lives, it would be easier to avoid him. 

Nancy turned to see Ace step out of his bedroom. She had shared it with him, but he didn’t know that because it never happened. 

So she listened as he explained why he got this apartment and the job at the morgue. 

In response, she told him he was never lacking. 

She wanted to say more. 

That she loved him. That she had known since she stood on the bluffs in the dreamscape, frozen in a moment that ended with an almost-kiss and a knock ‘em dead.  

She wanted to tell him she’d probably had feelings for longer, yet hadn’t realized because she never knew love could be this easy. 

Maybe it started at the library, the day they said I think I love you. Not their words, but those of Lucy and Ryan. 

Maybe it started sooner. Under the hot July sun. When she sat on an overturned bucket at the back of The Claw with him and spoke of all the ways her life had gone wrong. 

For a long time, she only viewed her life as a series of wrongs. 

She wanted nothing more than for Ace to be the one thing that went right. But it seemed the universe wouldn’t grant her that. 

So when she couldn’t resist the pull toward him—the fabric of his shirt in her fist, his hand warm on her arm, his nose brushing hers—she shouldn’t have been surprised the barometer cracked. 

There was something to be afraid of, and it was what her love would do to him. 

She forgot her coat and bag by the door and left him with words she didn’t mean.  

And he still didn’t believe her. 

He was too good, and he knew her too well. 

She would have to push him further away. 

She just didn’t know how to do that when he’d become the one person determined to stay. 

Nancy ignored the knock on her bedroom door, rolling onto her side and pulling a blanket with her. 

The walk home from Ace’s apartment had been long and cold. But with no one else home Nancy made it to her room without anyone noticing her tears, or asking why she hadn’t answered her phone. 

Her phone was in her bag at Ace’s apartment, and she was never going back there. 

A second knock was followed by Bess’s voice. “Nancy, are you in there?”

Nancy didn’t answer. She didn’t want to talk, and no one could know about the curse. Anyone who knew would want to break it, and it couldn’t be broken without risking Ace’s life. 

“Can I come in?” asked Bess. Nancy heard the door to her room slowly open. “I’m coming in.”

Nancy pulled the blanket tighter around herself.

“I just have your coat and bag." Bess brought them to Nancy’s desk, leaving the bag on top and draping the coat over the chair. The mattress dipped when she sat on the edge of it. “Are you okay?” A moment later, she sighed. “Bad question.” 

Nancy stared at the glow-in-the-dark stars on her ceiling, avoiding Bess’s gaze. One was peeling off. “How much do you know?”

“That you came over, and…” Bess trailed off, sounding cautious. “Left abruptly. But if you tell me what’s wrong, I could help—” 

“There’s nothing wrong.” 

“Are you sure?”

“I just don’t feel the same way.” 

“Nancy…” Bess placed her hand on Nancy’s leg. 

“Is he okay?” Nancy turned to Bess, tears filling her eyes. He had done it all for her. The job and the apartment, just to prove he was worthy. Sure, she had told him he wasn’t lacking. But right after, she pulled back from his mouth and left. 

“He’s really worried,” Bess said finally. “He thinks you’re in trouble.”

“I— I just don’t feel the same way.” Nancy brought her hands to her face and wiped at her tears roughly. 

“Okay,” Bess said softly, moving to stand. “Do you want me to go?” When Nancy shook her head, Bess crawled across the bed and leaned back against the headboard.

Nancy shifted so she was against Bess’s side, new tears falling. “I don’t love him,” she said. To convince herself of the one thing she’d never believe and that could never be true. 

Bess said nothing. 

When Nancy was growing up, Carson always said Kate was his soulmate. 

It was little moments that led him to say that. Like when Kate brewed him coffee, although she always took tea. 

Or when she’d stay up late just to kiss him goodnight after his drive home from Boston.

When Kate died, Carson said Kate was his soulmate because losing her was losing himself. He lost the piece of himself he gave her the day he realized he loved her. 

Nancy now knew Ace was her soulmate. 

What else could explain the pain in her chest every time she took a breath? As if a part of herself was gone. 

What if I told you that in order to save the town, I gave up control of my fate?

For a long time, Nancy had imagined the worst-case scenario to be Ace not loving her back. 

Maybe he’d say it directly, maybe he’d imply it. 

But one day she would find out, and she’d have to live with it or lose him entirely. 

She never considered knowing he loved her and still losing him.

To know his love existed and to be kept from it—that was worse than if he never loved her at all. 

You control your own fate. Don't let anyone tell you otherwise.  

Nancy just wanted to believe Carson was right. 

At the cemetery, graves were dug up and caskets were empty. 

Nancy's first case under Nancy Drew Investigations led her to the morgue. 

“If this is one of your weird things, I’m not sure this will help,” said Connor, dropping a last file into the box. 

“It’s just a starting point,” she said. “To see if there’s any connection between the bodies or if it’s random.”

Connor shut the metal drawer. They were in the records room, a tight space with all four walls lined by file cabinets. “Well, I suppose if being coroner has taught me anything—nothing is ever random.”

“I guess if being a supernatural detective has taught me anything, I’d say the same.” Connor held the box out to her, and she took it. “Thanks.”

He moved to hold the door open for her. “No problem. And those bagels will make for a good lunch.”

“Yeah, just to confirm for next time—I thought your rate was six bagels.” 

Connor shrugged. “In this economy? Sometimes a man needs eight.”

“I guess I'll keep that in mind,” she said, turning out of the records room. “I’ll see you around. And say hi to Lily for me?”

“Will do. Bye, Nancy.” Connor went left, as Nancy continued right. 

At the end of the hall, she turned left. She collided with someone and stumbled, nearly dropping the box. 

Nothing was ever random, so it was him. 

“Oh, sorry,” Ace said, reaching for the box to steady it. He must have just arrived, as he wasn’t yet in scrubs like Connor. Instead in his green jacket and… the flannel, Nancy noticed, feeling her stomach sink. 

She stood frozen, her eyes locked on his face. He looked tired.

“Nancy.”

“Sorry.” 

He nodded slowly, his eyes scanning her face. “I can carry this to your car?” 

“Um.” She took a breath and let him take the box. “Sure.” She missed him too much to say no to something that would give them a few minutes together. 

He took a step back, and she took a step forward, feeling something under her boot. 

She glanced down and found a lanyard with his morgue ID at the end. It must have fallen from his pocket. She picked it up and went to hand it to him, but he was holding the box. “Um. I’ll just…”

He bent his head down, and she put the lanyard around his neck. As she moved her hand away, her knuckles brushed his hair. She felt her face warm, unable to take her eyes off of him.

They hadn’t seen one another since that day at his apartment. 

She missed him too much to look away. 

Ace cleared his throat. “This for a case?”

"Huh?" 

He glanced over the contents of the box. "The files." 

Nancy shook her head to clear whatever daze she'd been in. He was watching her, and when she met his gaze again, the corner of his mouth lifted slightly. "Yeah, it's— it's for a case. Bodies have been going missing at the cemetery."

He nodded, and they walked down the hall in silence. 

“Are you doing it alone?” he asked as they neared the end of the hall.

“I'm capable.” 

“That’s not what I meant," he said, pausing at the door. Nancy opened it, and he stepped outside. "I just… you're at the morgue and…" 

She stepped outside after him. It was a cold, grey day. Thick snowflakes were falling from the sky.

"Connor was able to help," Nancy said. She kept her gaze on the ground as they walked, telling herself she needed to look out for ice. But really, she just couldn't look at his face. 

She knew he’d want to help. He’d say yes to anything she asked, and that was why she could never ask anything of him again. 

“That's fine." Ace shrugged, but she didn't believe he was indifferent.  

They reached her car, and Nancy opened the passenger door. After he put the box inside, he stepped back.  

"Is there…" He hesitated, pushing his hand through his hair. "Did you want to talk?" 

“I should get back to Icarus Hall."

Ace nodded, looking down as he scuffed the toe of his shoe against the pavement. Snowflakes were collecting in his hair, on his jacket. 

As Nancy took a step toward the driver's side, he looked up at her.

"Did I do something wrong, or—”

“No,” she said, shaking her head. “You’ve never done anything wrong.” 

“Then what?” 

"Everything's fine." The lie melted on her tongue just like the snowflakes on her coat. 

He watched her carefully. The air was cold, but her cheeks felt like they were burning.

“Sorry, I have to go.” 

“Nancy, if you let me know what’s going on—” 

“I can’t,” she said. “That’s— it’s exactly what I can’t do.”

“Then why should I believe everything's fine?” 

"Because I need you to.”

"I won't until I know you're okay." 

"I am okay." She met his gaze, trying to convince him. He only shook his head. 

“Nancy, you can tell me.” He held his hand out as if to touch her, but she stepped back.

She stared past him, looking at the morgue. At the other cars. Anywhere but at him. "You want to know the problem?" she asked, taking a breath. "It’s that I trusted Temperance."

“Temperance is dead.”

“That doesn’t matter.”

"Why?”

Nancy made the mistake of looking at him. She bit the inside of her lip hard as tears fell down her face. 

"I want to help," he said, stepping toward her. 

"I know," she said. "But you can't." 

"Why not?" 

Nancy lifted her hands, meaning to push him back. But instead, she grabbed his jacket where it opened. 

She was so tired. 

From mourning Ryan and the crash that left her unable to drive without shaking.

From this reality, which was both a relief and a new nightmare. 

On Christmas morning, she’d opened Ryan’s gift. A gold bracelet with a charm in the shape of a flashlight. Plenty of room for more, he had told her. No one had known why she cried so hard. 

“Nancy,” Ace said softly, his eyes on hers. A snowflake landed on his eyelashes, and she watched as it melted. “You can push me away, but I know something’s wrong.”

“Nothing’s wrong,” she said, her voice hushed. 

“I know you’re lying,” he said. “I know you.” 

“You don’t know me,” she insisted, still gripping his jacket. When she blinked, more tears fell. “So you should move on.” 

“This isn’t about that. Are you in danger?” 

“No,” she said, taking a shuddering breath. She gripped his jacket tighter, and he glanced at her hands.  

“Please, Nancy.” He stared back at her, their breath freezing in the air between them. 

Just as she moved closer, she heard the familiar crack of glass. 

Nancy pushed Ace back like she’d been burned. 

“What?” he asked, his eyes wide. 

Nancy turned to her car. There was a crack in the windshield. 

"You need to go," she said, putting more distance between them. 

“That’s the second time," he said. "This can't be a coincidence, right?"

She fumbled for her key to unlock the driver's door. “It’s just another mistake.” 

“That’s—” Ace rubbed his hand across his face. “That doesn't answer my question.” 

“Because I’m trying to protect you."

“Nancy—"

She got in her car, shutting the door before he could finish his sentence. 

Icarus Hall was hers but it was lonely. 

Back when The Claw was headquarters, the murder board would go in the locker room. She’d spread out her case files at the booth in the corner. Ace would sit across from her with his laptop, or Bess when she needed a second pair of eyes. 

At first, George was less than thrilled to see her restaurant turn into a home base for mystery-solving. But even she took part in cases when tourist season ended and customers were few. Nick was just glad Nancy brought case files and not bones or a body to autopsy. (In her defense, the autopsy was a one-time thing and not at The Claw). 

But now, it was Nancy alone in this old building in Grisham Woods. She’d been reading the files from the morgue for two hours now, turning on the lamp at her desk when the sun set. So far, there was no connection between the bodies. Yet she still wasn’t convinced it was random. 

Nancy closed a file and massaged her temples with her thumbs. It was late, and she was tired. She should go home, but the case was a better distraction than trying to watch TV or going to sleep at a decent time—only to be woken by nightmares of Ace or Ryan dying. That was if she could even sleep in the first place. 

“Hello?” Ryan’s voice echoed through Icarus Hall, and Nancy pulled her hands away from her head. 

“In here,” she called back. A few seconds later, Ryan appeared under the archway carrying a pizza box. The scent of pizza filled the room, and at the pain in her stomach, she realized she hadn’t eaten since this morning.

“You know,” he said, walking over to Nancy’s desk, “it doesn’t matter how many times I’ve come here. This place is still a maze.” 

Nancy shrugged, collecting the files that weren’t in the stack into a pile. “You get used to it.” Once they were out of the way, Ryan set the pizza box down. 

“And it’s dark in here,” he said, looking around. “Reading in the dark isn’t good for your eyes.”

“I’m fine. I have the lamp.”

Ryan shook his head in a way that eerily reminded her of Carson. “Let me light some candles.”

Nancy reached into her desk and gave him a box of matches.

“Did you take these from home?” Ryan asked, lighting candles around the room. They didn’t offer much light, yet the room did brighten.

“The matches? They’re mine.” She pulled the pizza box closer to herself. 

“Oh, I couldn’t find any the other day.”

Nancy shrugged and opened the pizza box. “Barbecue chicken?” she asked. 

Ryan grinned, sitting in one of the client chairs on the other side of her desk. “Yep. Your favorite, right?”

Nancy nodded. “How’d you know?”

“Fatherly intuition.” When Nancy raised her eyebrows, he laughed. “Or, I asked Carson.”

“That would have been my first guess.” 

Ryan placed a few napkins in front of her. “Well, with Carson out of town, I have to make sure you’re eating, right? I barely see you at home—you’re working so much.”

“This first case has me busy.”

Ryan nodded, placing some napkins in front of himself. “How’s it going?”

“Alright. I’ve been looking over these death records from the morgue.” She gestured to the stack. “It all seems too calculated to be random, but there’s no commonality in their deaths. I’ll have to start tracking down information from when they were alive."

He tapped his fingers on the desk, failing at any attempt to seem casual when he leaned forward. “The morgue?”

“That’s… what I said.”

“Oh.” He shrugged. “I just thought you’ve been working on this case alone.”

“I am.” 

“Hmm.”

Nancy sighed. “Just say what you’re thinking." 

“I—" Ryan frowned. "I just wondered if you’ve been working with Ace. I haven’t seen him around in a while.”

“We’re both busy.”

“I always thought you make a good team.” 

“Yeah, well. Things are more complicated now.” 

“Are they?” Ryan took a slice of pizza from the box, the cheese pulling. “The older I've gotten, I think love is pretty simple. It’s the rest of the world that complicates it.” 

“I don’t—”

He held his free hand up in defense. “I’m just saying. And I’m not blind, Nance.”

She turned her attention to the box, feeling his gaze on her as she took a slice and began to eat it. 

Love was simple. But hers was dangerous too. 

And the more that people worried about her and their relationship, the harder it would be to protect him. What if Ryan spoke with Ace? Bess already had. 

Nancy and Ryan ate in silence. As Nancy picked at her crust, Ryan was the first to break it.

“I’m proud of you.” 

A small smile crossed her face, and she met his gaze. “Thanks, Dad,” she said quietly.

She watched as he ducked his head, not quick enough to hide his smile. Nancy was glad he didn’t make a big deal out of it. That it could be a little moment this time.

“You’re doing good with this place,” he said. “Turning it into your own." He gestured to the sign hanging behind him. It was a blue oval outlined in yellow. There was a compass between Nancy Drew and Investigations.  

She touched her hand to the compass charm she wore with Kate’s locket around her neck. 

“Is the compass for her?”

Nancy nodded. Nick had been happy to add it, even if it was a last-minute idea.  

“Do you…” she trailed off, searching for the right words. “Do you ever wonder what your future would have been like with her?”

A wistful look crossed Ryan’s face. “All the time. But knowing you, that’s at least one piece I don’t have to wonder about.”

Nancy exhaled heavily, dropping her pizza crust to her napkin. “That’s how I knew about the shrapnel.” 

Ryan’s eyebrows knit together. “What?”

"I didn’t have to wonder about the future. I saw it.”

“When?”

She sniffled. “At the veil, Temperance used our mind weave, and I lived a month of the future. Exactly what would have happened until…” 

When she didn’t continue, Ryan got up from his chair and walked around the desk, crouching in front of her. “Until what?”

“Until Temperance killed Ace too.” Tears fell down her face, and Ryan placed his hand on her knee. “That wasn’t supposed to happen. But she made it happen, and I held him just like I held you, and—” She choked on a sob, her vision blurring from her tears.

“Hey, hey,” he soothed. 

Nancy shook her head, and more tears fell. “You died,” she said, her voice breaking. 

He opened his arms, and she slid to the floor, tucking herself into his embrace. One of his hands went to her head, the other to the floor to keep from falling back. 

“I’m sorry," he murmured into her hair. 

She was too. 

“And then I told them that as Keeper, I cannot allow them to do that.” Bess’s sharp laugh carried out of the archive room. “Can you believe they thought I’d just hand something that priceless over? I don’t even know them.”

Nancy paused, scanning the shelves for a book on protection magic. Researching the curse was a slow process. She wanted to take things slow. This wasn’t a mystery that could be solved with trial and error, and part of her still believed it was best to not risk solving it at all. 

She couldn’t hear who Bess was in the archive room with, but she figured it was Addy. This late, The Historical Society was technically closed. Yet Nancy preferred to research when she could have the building to herself. Or, mostly. 

“Yes, they only came with Ryan the first time. That was last month,” said Bess. 

Nancy placed a book back on the shelf and walked to the archive room. 

“Hey, Bess,” she said, passing the first row of archive boxes. “Do you know where a book on—” The rest of the sentence caught in her throat.

Bess wasn’t with Addy. She was with Ace. 

“A book on what?” Bess asked. 

She and Ace were sitting at the table in the archive room. A collection of books and handwritten notes were scattered between them. 

Nancy tucked her hair behind her ear, trying to keep her voice casual and her eyes on Bess. “On protection magic.” 

“What for?” 

“A case.” Bess exchanged a glance with Ace, and Nancy’s resolve to only look at Bess broke. He was already looking at her. 

“The cemetery one?” Bess asked. 

“Yes.”

“What are you trying to protect against?”

Nancy pressed her lips together. “It’s just… a precaution.”

“Who are you trying to protect?”

“Bess,” Ace said with a sigh, turning back to her. 

“I just need the book,” said Nancy. “So do you know where it is, or—” She came closer to the table and read the titles of the ones there: Casting and Breaking Curses, A Guide to Curses and Hexes, The History of the Ancient Curse. Her stomach sank.

“Are you cursed, Nancy?” Bess asked. 

Nancy looked up from the books to Bess. “I’m not.” 

Bess tapped her fingers against the table, glancing at Ace. “What if she can’t say she’s cursed?”

“It’s possible,” he said. 

“Like Nick and the hex on the kids,” Bess said. “That would explain—”

“I’m right here,” said Nancy. They both looked at her. 

“I know, and we’re trying to help,” said Bess. 

“I don’t need help.”

“Then why do you keep breaking glass?”

“I don’t—” Nancy turned to Ace. “You told her.”

“I did,” he said. “Glass doesn’t break like that. Then add in everything at the veil. And earlier this week at the morgue, when you mentioned Temperance and said you were trying to protect me.”

Nancy stared back at him, at a loss for words. 

“We just want to help. That’s all,” Bess said softly. “What are you trying to protect him from? Are you cursed?”

“I’m— I’m not cursed.” 

“Is someone?”

Nancy opened her mouth and then closed it. Her eyes flickered to Ace. He was still looking at her, his face nothing but concerned. He had no idea he was the one in danger. 

She turned away from them and left the archive room. As she did, she heard Bess exhale.

“It’s you,” Bess said to Ace.

But Nancy ignored her, walking through the sitting room to the front door. She took her coat off a hook and quickly slipped her arms into the sleeves.  

“Nancy,” Ace said, turning the corner. “Am I cursed?”

She pulled her hair out from under her coat. “Yes, you’re cursed.” 

“Since when?”

Nancy took her messenger bag from another hook and put it over her head to sit the strap on her shoulder. “Since the night at the veil.”

“So then—”

She didn’t wait for him to finish his sentence, opening the door. 

“Nancy, why are you running?” Ace asked. He stepped onto the porch with her, not bothering to grab his coat. 

She walked to the railing and looked out at the front lawn. The lawn was covered with patches of melting snow. It was almost March now, and in a few weeks, it would be spring. 

“I— I don’t know,” she admitted.

“Do you not want me to know?”

She could sense him behind her but didn’t turn, her eyes still on the lawn. “I thought that would keep you safe.” 

“What does the curse even do?” 

She turned to face him and forced herself to meet his eyes. With the porch light, half his face was cast in shadow. 

“The curse can kill you,” she told him quietly. 

He opened his mouth and then closed it, his eyes flickering across her face. 

“Ask me—” She took a shaky breath. “Just ask me what you want to know.”

He nodded. “Why am I cursed?”

“Because of my choice.”

A crease formed between his eyebrows. “What was your choice?”

“At the veil, Temperance showed me something.” A future that was and then wasn’t. The death of her father, a day and a half with the man she loved, and his death too. “I could choose you or Horseshoe Bay. I didn’t choose you.” 

He dragged his hand across his face, and she watched as he put the pieces together. She wondered if he realized that for a moment, she’d chosen him too. “Why was I a choice?”

“Because Temperance knew how I feel.”

An emotion flashed across his face, too quick for her to read it. Maybe relief. 

“The day you came to my apartment…” He shook his head slightly. “You can’t tell me how you feel.” 

She nodded. 

“Then tell me why you can’t.”

Nancy brushed her hand through her hair, blinking back tears. “Because you’ll die.” 

"I don’t understand.”

“It’s not that complicated,” she said with a weak laugh. “If we act on our feelings, you die a painful death. Temperance promised.”

He took a step forward, and she stepped back. 

“You shouldn’t do that.” 

“Isn’t there a way to break the curse?”

“Maybe!” Nancy threw her hands up. “Or we try and fail, and you die.” 

“You don’t want to try?”

“This—” She took a sharp breath. “This can’t be worth your life. We get one chance to break it.” 

He stepped closer, and this time, she didn’t step back. “But if we end the curse, think of what we get.” 

Nancy ran her tongue across her lips, tasting salt from tears she hadn’t noticed falling. She didn’t need to think of what they’d get. She already knew what it was like to wake up with him, under soft sheets and warm sunlight. 

Now there was only the cold air and the dark sky. The fact he shouldn’t be this close. 

“Think of what we could lose,” she said. “I can’t lose you.”

Ace moved his hand to her face, brushing his thumb over her cheekbone. His touch was light, and she held her breath. “Think of what we’ve already lost.”

“You can’t…” She trailed off, knowing she couldn’t finish the sentence. You can’t love me that much.

But meeting his gaze, she knew he did. 

And so here they were—caught in another forbidden moment. She reached for him, settling for the fabric of his shirt. She wondered if he was cold, although she could feel the heat from his body. She wondered why they were touching when they both knew the consequence. 

He brushed his thumb down her cheek, across her chin, then over her bottom lip. His touch was so light she might have thought she was imagining it if not for the erratic beat of her heart. 

“Ace,” she whispered. 

He needed to stop. She didn’t want him to stop. She needed—

The porch light shattered, and they broke apart. Shards of glass fell feet from where they stood. 

“That’s—” Ace began. 

“A warning,” Nancy said. Without the light, she could barely see him. 

“How generous of Temperance.” 

She forced herself to nod, but what she wanted to do was cry. This was the third time she had let this happen. 

For as much as she tried to push Ace away, the pull was stronger. 

It felt like a lifetime ago that Nancy sat in her living room with George, Nick, Bess, and Ace, asking them, why do you guys always show up?

They weren’t strangers by that point, but it was new to have people at her side.

Nancy knew she wasn’t easy to stand beside. 

But sitting in her living room today, Nancy thought maybe they fit together because none of them were easy. 

Yet together, life became a little easier. 

That’s what friends do. We show up.  

She leaned back into the couch cushions, a notebook on her lap and a pen in her hand. 

George was on the couch with her, Nick in front of them on the floor, using the coffee table as a makeshift desk for the notes scattered across the surface. 

Bess and Ace were on the armchairs opposite the couch—Bess with a book propped open, and Ace with his laptop. 

It was Bess’s idea to meet up. A curse-research party, she had said. Almost as fun as game night. 

Nancy had disagreed.

“You said it was a moth, Nancy?” asked Bess, looking up from her book. 

“Yes,” Nancy said. She’d been over this a dozen times already. Temperance’s vague explanation, the moth flying from her mouth just as she took her last breath. 

“Well, that’s why you weren’t having any luck with your research.” Bess turned to the next page. “With curses, they'll be direct or indirect. You can curse the person directly, or through an object. Maybe a piece of food."

“Like Snow White,” said Ace.

Nancy glanced at him, watching as he typed on his laptop. She’d only done that a handful of times since he arrived an hour ago. As if pretending he was invisible could keep him safe in the same room as her. When he looked at her, she looked away. 

“So which one is the moth?” asked George. She pulled her feet off the floor to sit criss-cross and readjusted the book in her lap. 

“Indirect, right?” asked Nick, turning to George. 

“Yeah, but…” George glanced from Nick to Bess. “Would Ace have to—” She pointed at her mouth. 

Ace raised his eyebrows. “Eat the moth?” He turned to Bess, who was flipping through her book. 

“Maybe,” said Bess. “At least that’s how the curse would activate its final stage.”

“I haven’t seen the moth since the night at the veil,” said Nancy.

Bess nodded, looking at her. “And we don’t want you to until we go to break the curse. If glass breaking is your warning, the moth showing up is what happens when you don’t listen.”

“And what kills him,” Nancy said quietly. Just not quietly enough, as when her eyes found their way back to Ace, he was looking at her. 

“Hey,” said Bess. “We’re going to figure this out.”

Nancy wanted to believe her. Not just so she could kiss Ace, say she loved him, meet his gaze from across the room—but so she'd be able to do those things without worrying she'd kill him.

“I’ll be right back,” Nancy said, standing up from the couch. Everyone watched as she left and when she passed Ace, she made a point to look at him and shake her head. Please don’t follow.

In the kitchen, Nancy took a glass down from a cabinet. She filled it at the sink and let the faucet run for so long she had to dump water out. 

At the sound of footsteps, Nancy set her glass on the counter. “You really shouldn’t—”

“It’s just me,” said George. “Lucky for your glass.” 

Nancy nodded and picked it back up. She took a tentative sip as George got a glass for herself and filled it.

George leaned back against the counter, drinking half of the glass before she turned to look at Nancy. “I wish I could say I was surprised when Bess said you guys were cursed, but I wasn’t.”

“Because of course, Temperance would find a way to ruin my life from beyond the grave with an insect.” 

The corner of George’s mouth quirked up. “More like… because what else could keep you and Ace apart?”

“Me. I could have told him sooner.” 

“About the curse?”

“No. That I—” Nancy bit her lip, unable to finish the sentence. 

“That you love him,” George filled in.

Nancy didn’t even dare nod, but George seemed to understand. 

“Don’t blame yourself for something you weren’t ready to do.” 

“But it’s true, isn’t it? And now I—” Nancy shook her head, looking down at her glass. “We only get one chance to break the curse. It would be better if he never knew about it.” 

“I don’t think you believe that.”

“He’d be safe. He could move on.” 

“He’s as miserable as you but just better at hiding it. And it’s not—” George set her glass on the counter behind her. “It’s not like Ace doesn’t want the same thing as you. He has a choice in this too."

“To break the curse.”

“To choose you.” George shook her head slowly. “Maybe I’m not the best person to give relationship advice. Nick and I were engaged and broke up in three months. But I don’t regret loving him. And if you guys break the curse, you won't regret that either.” 

After the dreamscape to rid herself of the Wraith, Nancy hadn’t known whether Ace felt the same. She learned to live with what-ifs, as long as she could keep him in her life. 

Now that she did know, dreams were not enough. Not when he was in the next room and had told her last week, think of what we’ve already lost. Think of what we get.

“I want to break it,” Nancy said quietly. “But if it doesn’t work I won’t be able to live with that.”

“And how long could you live like this? If you don’t try to break it.” 

Nancy met George’s gaze. When Nancy still said nothing, George nodded once.

I already can’t. 

A life or death curse and the solution was sticks and twine.

“Bug catchers,” Nancy said, kneeling to pull one out of the box she had carried into Grisham Woods. The catchers were constructed out of sticks, the twine securing the lids to the top. 

"Enchanted bug catchers,” Bess clarified. “Perfect for a not-so-normal moth.”

Nancy sighed and stood. 

“You’ll be fine,” George said, coming over to squeeze Nancy's shoulder. “It’s like splitting Odette’s soul from mine. Except this time… it’s a moth.”

“It’s not me I’m worried about.” Nancy brushed dirt from her jeans, and when she looked up, Nick and Ace had joined them. Nick had a cardboard box. 

“Are we ready?” he asked. 

“Almost,” said Bess. “Did you get the jars set out?” 

Nick nodded, dropping the now empty box to the ground. “We put four in each direction.” 

“Good. George got the wood ready, so I just need the items you both brought,” Bess said, looking from Nancy to Ace. 

Nancy reached into her pocket, pulling out a blue neck scarf and a folded piece of notebook paper. Bess had said to bring items significant to their relationship. 

“A scarf?” Ace asked. Nancy turned to find him behind her. 

“Yeah,” she said, scrunching the fabric only to unscrunch it and fold it over. “Is that significant enough?”

He met her gaze when she glanced up at him. “When did you wear it?”

“The day Columbia rejected me.” 

His eyes flickered from the scarf back to her face. “Something I said that day…”

Nancy nodded, still holding his gaze. 

She had been certain Columbia was for her. Somewhere far from Horseshoe Bay where she could figure out who she was. 

So to be rejected and lose the one thing she used to strive for, and had finally been ready to strive for again—it was crushing. 

I can help you carry it. 

Ace had said that about sparkling cider, but it was more than that. Just as it had been the day at the morgue.

Nancy took a breath, turning from Ace to join Bess by Nick and George. They each held a catcher.

“Here,” she said, holding the scarf out. 

Bess took the scarf and gave it to Nick. He placed it inside his catcher. “And the other item?” she asked Nancy.

“Just this.” Nancy handed Bess the paper. Ace watched her from the other side of Bess. 

Bess handed the paper to George. "Put this inside." Once George did, Bess turned to Ace. "Your item?"

Nancy watched as Ace pulled something from his pocket. 

“You can put it in,” Bess said, taking the lid off of her catcher.

Nancy took a step forward so she could see around Bess. He dropped a box of matches into the catcher. 

“Are those…” Nancy made eye contact with Ace. 

“They were yours,” he said.

“Ryan was saying he couldn’t find them. The last time I saw them was…” 

The night she almost lit herself on fire. 

After she woke from her Sandman dream, soaked in acetone, she had given Ace both the match and the box before she went upstairs to shower. When she came back to find the kitchen clean and Ace ready to go to the youth center, there was no reason to wonder what he had done with them. 

"Should we begin?” Bess asked, touching her hand to Nancy’s back. 

Nancy nodded, pulling her gaze from Ace. 

“Alright. You two have the easy part,” Bess told Nancy and Ace. “All you have to do is summon the moth.”

“And when it comes?” Ace asked. 

“Then I’ll put up the spell. When the moth can no longer sense you, it will be drawn to the catchers instead because of the enchantment and items inside.”

Nancy nodded, slowly moving toward Ace. 

“How are we going to summon the moth?” he asked. 

“Well, you have… options.”

“She means to kiss,” said George. “Which, just to be clear—this is the only time I want to stand around for that.”

“What about their wedding?” Bess asked. 

“Maybe one step at a time,” said Nick. Nancy met his gaze, and he shrugged. “You could just talk, right?” 

Nancy nodded and looked at Ace. She knew he was nervous, she could see it in the way he held his shoulders. But meeting his eyes, she knew he had no doubts. 

“Ready?” he asked quietly. 

She nodded again, and Nick, George, and Bess spaced themselves evenly apart, forming a circle around her and Ace. 

“Whenever you’re ready,” said Bess. 

Nancy took a breath, as did Ace. “I guess we can break the rules now?” She held her hands out to him, palms up. 

He placed his hands on top of hers, sliding them down to wrap his thumbs and fingers around her hands. 

It was too quiet in the woods. There was little wind, and every rustle of a tree or shift of one of their friends sounded much louder than it actually was. 

“What do we talk about?” she whispered. 

“There's one thing I could say.”

Worried it was those three words, she shook her head. “Not like this.”

“Then what should we talk about?”

“Tell me… Tell me why you kept the matches.” 

He pressed his lips together, taking a breath through his nose. She felt his grip on her hands tighten. 

"Just so I can't set myself on fire?" she asked.

He shook his head. “I didn’t mean to take them. I just put them in my pocket and forgot. But when I remembered…” He shrugged, looking up at the tree canopy before looking back at her. “They were a reminder that I found you in time.”

“Ace…”

“So I could remember you were okay.” 

“I am okay.”

“Are you?” he asked, his eyebrows raising slightly. 

“I—” She wouldn’t lie to him. Not when she didn’t have to. “Ask me when this is over.” She stepped closer to him, tilting her head back to see him better. His eyes flickered to her mouth, and she shook her head. “Let’s wait until we know,” she said softly. 

He nodded. “Then what else should we talk about?”

“Do you know what the paper I brought was?”

He shook his head. “Some kind of note? I don’t know.”

“It’s your fish.”

“My— what?”

The smile on her lips was faint. “When you drew a fish.”  

A crease formed between his eyebrows.

“Before we left for New York.”

“Oh." She saw the realization in his face the second he remembered. "The lacrimatory?”

“That looks like a fish,” Nancy clarified. 

Ace smiled, just enough for her to catch it. “You kept it?” 

“It was cute.” 

He shook his head, his smile a little more evident. “You weren’t just impressed with my artistic ability?”

"I'll admit it's impressive," she said, biting back a laugh. "But, um. It was that you were there that entire day. On the drive, when I sliced my hand, and when I woke up. You’re always here, making sure I’m okay.”

“Because I want you to be okay.”

“I want you to be okay, Ace. More than anything else.” 

Off in the distance, a jar shattered. 

Nancy's eyes widened, but Ace kept calm, rubbing her palms with his thumbs. 

"Just keep talking," he said quietly. 

"Okay," Nancy said, taking a breath. "Um. Even before that day—even before we knew about the Wraith—you knew I was different. How did you know?" 

"Because I know you." 

"But—" Another jar shattered, and she grabbed the front of his jacket. "But how do you know me so well—"

Ace placed his hands on her arms. She could tell by the way he gripped them he was scared. "I just do, Nancy," he said through a breath. 

It wasn't an answer, but it made sense. It made sense because knowing him was the same—like knowing a piece of herself. 

A piece of herself she was terrified to lose. 

“This is it!” called Nick. 

Nancy wrapped her arms around his waist. “If this doesn’t work—” she began. 

Another jar shattered, and Ace wrapped his arms around her, pulling her to his chest. She squeezed her eyes shut, tears falling down her face.

“Now, Bess!” shouted George.

Nancy lifted her head as a shield of blue light surrounded them. It would keep the moth away from Ace, if only for a little while. 

She met Ace’s eyes with tears rolling down her cheeks. The shield distorted the voices of their friends outside of it. Even in mid-day, Grisham Woods was never this bright, both of them cast in a blue glow.

“If this doesn’t work," she said, "I’m not going to leave you. Not even for a second.”

“Nancy.”

“I swear, Ace.” Her breathing was uneven, but her voice was steady. “I won’t. Not until the end.”

She had never loved someone the way she loved Ace. 

Loving him was soft touches, weighted glances. As easy as you okay? and complex enough to bend time and space.

He understood the way she pushed, and let her be the one to pull back. 

She wanted him at his best, she wanted him at his worst. Her love for him would not be fleeting. 

The blue shield vanished, and she dropped her head to his chest. He still held her tight. 

“Get ready to light the fire, Nick!” said Bess. She sounded scared, and Nancy picked her head up. 

“Is it—” Nancy began.

“It’s in here,” said George. The moth was in her catcher, glowing red. “But it’s— really mad.” She brought the catcher to Bess. 

Nancy unwrapped her arms from Ace, grabbing for his hand. “Can it escape?” 

“I don’t know,” said Bess.

“You don’t know? Bess!” Nancy looked at Ace, but his eyes were on the moth. 

“I’m trying my best, Nancy. I've never done this before.” She set the catcher on the woodpile. Nick knelt beside it, a lit match in his hand. 

"Now?" Nick asked. 

"Not yet." Bess reached into her pocket and took out a vial of clear liquid. She dumped it onto the catcher and woodpile. "Now." 

Nick dropped the match, and instantly, the catcher was sitting in a bed of purple flames. 

"That means it's working, right?" George asked. 

Bess held her hand up to quiet George. They all watched as the flames grew, and then began to subside, turning to a normal orange. There was a scratching noise coming from the fire. 

No, the catcher, Nancy realized. 

"I think—" Bess turned to Nancy and Ace, her voice panicked. "You need to get away from each other." 

Nancy let go of his hand. "What's happening?" 

"It's trying to escape." 

"Can it?"

"I told you, I don't know." 

Nancy knew she had to move, but couldn't get her feet to work. She couldn't take her eyes off the red glow inside the catcher, brighter than the fire.  

Nick got up and came over to Nancy. He brought her away from Ace and closer to the fire. 

She couldn't look at Ace.

This was it. The moth would escape, and he would die. 

It was her fault for loving him, her fault for trusting Temperance— 

"Nancy," said Nick, placing his hand on her shoulder. "I think it's working." 

Nick was right. The flames were fighting between purple and orange, growing tall again. 

The closer Nancy and Ace were to each other, the easier it was for the moth to sense where it was supposed to be, what it was created to do. 

"You need to go," Nancy said, turning to Ace. She met his gaze from across the fire. He was beside George, Bess now on the other side of him. 

He glanced at the fire, then back at Nancy. “I don’t want to leave you.”

"She's right," said Bess. "It's you the moth wants. Standing in front of it won't help anything." 

"I'll stay here, okay?" Nancy said, her voice shaky. "I'll find you when it's done. Either way." 

"I'll go with you," said George, looking at Ace. 

"But the fire can burn for hours," he said. 

"I know," Nancy said. "And you need to go." She turned to Nick. "Can you go with him too? I don't want him to be alone." 

Nick nodded. "Of course." 

Nancy watched as George urged Ace to follow her back to the cars. 

She knew that as he turned, he didn't want to go. But if this worked, he wouldn't have to leave her again. 

When the sun set through the trees, the sky didn’t turn any pretty shade of red or pink. The sky was cloudy, and the air smelled of smoke and oncoming rain. 

Nancy and Bess sat side by side in front of the fire, watching as the purple flames stretched and contorted—casting shadows across their faces. 

“This is going to work, Nancy,” Bess said. They hadn’t spoken for a while, and Bess’s voice startled Nancy from the quiet of the night. 

“Are you sure?” 

“The moth has slowed.”

In the flames, the wood of the catcher was burnt. The moth had slowed. Its glow was dim, and it hadn’t moved in minutes. 

“When the flames go out, the moth will be gone," Bess said. 

Nancy nodded, wrapping her arms around herself. It was a warm night for mid-March, especially in front of the fire. But she still felt cold. Bess shifted closer, putting her arm around Nancy. 

"I'm sorry I yelled at you," Nancy said, leaning into Bess’s half-embrace.

"Don't be. We were both scared.” 

"I know, and you were still able to do all this." Nancy watched as a piece of ash rose from the flames.

"It's just the outcome of some careful research."

"You deserve more credit than that," Nancy said. "You're not just an amazing Woman in White, but a good friend." 

Bess smiled softly, dropping her head to Nancy's shoulder. "Thank me with a wedding invitation." 

The fire was still strong, and the moth's light was nearly gone. Nancy let herself smile. "Hey, we're not even dating yet." 

"Yeah, but I know your love is a love that will last." 

Nancy released a breath she hadn't realized she was holding. "I do love him." 

Bess looked at Nancy, her face illuminated by the purple flames. "I know." 

It was pouring when Nancy reached the parking lot of Nick’s building. The night sky was dark with thick cloud cover. Her windshield wipers were on the highest speed, pushing rain from the glass in sheets. 

With most residents home, Nancy had to park near the back of the lot. The light from her car reflected off of the wet pavement. 

So many moments had led to this one.

The day she told him about her life outside the back of The Claw. I should be at Columbia.  

The first time he decided to be someone she could depend on. You do need us. 

The day she handed Daniel West the list of names at the abandoned paper mill. I couldn't lose you. 

Nancy took the key from the ignition, and her car went silent. She put the key in her pocket and got out of her car, slamming the door shut. 

It was still pouring, and her coat had no hood. She navigated around the parked cars, feeling the rain soak her hair and clothes.

After she sidestepped a particularly large puddle, she looked up to see someone walking toward her from the building. 

Holding her hand up to shield her eyes from the rain, she could tell it was him. 

Nancy ran to Ace, splashing through a puddle that soaked her feet up to her socks. When she reached him, she threw her arms around him and he stumbled back, catching her. 

“Why are you out here?” she asked, speaking loud enough to be heard over the rain. 

He held his hands at her back as they took a step together. Her hair was wet and his was starting to be, strands curling at his forehead. “I came to see you.”

“You could have waited inside.”

“I didn’t want to wait." 

“No?” She smiled and reached up to place her hand on his cheek. 

“No.” He held her close, and their foreheads brushed before he moved back to look at her. 

“I love you,” she said, meeting his eyes. “I can say that now.”

"I love you." He lowered his head to hers again, his nose bumping hers. Nancy felt rain slide down her face, off her chin.

“And I have for a long time.” 

“How long is a long time?” he asked, so close his hair tickled her cheek.  

Nancy laughed, pressing a kiss to his jaw. He tasted like rain. “I could ask you the same thing.” 

She felt his breath, warm by her ear. "It feels like forever."

“We have forever now.”  

He met her gaze and brushed rain from her cheek with his thumb. “I want that."    

She nodded, her gaze falling from his eyes to his mouth. 

“Are we sure it’s broken?”

“I watched the flames go out,” she said. Well before the rain began, the fire vanished and left her and Bess in the dark. The catcher and moth went with it. “And we’d know by now.”

“Right, the cars," he said with a nod. Rain dripped from the hair loose across his forehead. "Sorry about the crack in your windshield.” 

She shook her head and brought her hand to the back of his neck, tangling her fingers in his wet hair. “It’s fixed now.” 

And she didn’t just mean her windshield. She meant the curse and every force that had ever kept them apart—fear, time, or anything else, supernatural or not. 

“There's nothing to be afraid of,” she said. “Not when you’re safe.” 

He nodded and lowered his mouth toward hers. 

When they kissed, it wasn’t her first time. 

The first time was in the other reality. On a cold January day that was just warm enough for sunlight to spill through the windows of his apartment. 

Nancy had thought it was real, even after the barometer on his shelf broke. 

But it wasn’t, and kissing him now—it was easy to tell the difference. 

Kissing Ace now was cool rain on her skin, and air warm enough she could tell it was nearly spring. 

Her coat wasn't buttoned, and he slipped his hands under it to span her back, where her shirt was still dry. One of her hands was on his chest. She could feel the steady beat of his heart and placed her other hand on his arm as he brought her closer.

The rain wouldn’t last, but Nancy hoped this would. She never wanted to forget the way his mouth felt soft and sure on hers. And now, there was no reason to. Forever would be theirs. 

A crack of thunder split across the sky, and Nancy startled, breaking apart from him.

“It’s starting to storm,” he said, his eyes finding hers. He blinked a few times, raindrops having collected on his lashes. 

“Should we go inside?”

He nodded, and just because she could, she wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him again. She felt his smile against her mouth. 

Nancy wasn't sleeping when lightning flashed across the sky. 

Light fell through the window, casting shadows over them in the shape of the blinds.

Thunder followed, and Nancy adjusted the pillow under her head. She had her hand on Ace's back, tracing mindless shapes over his skin. 

"Ace," she whispered. Her voice was nearly drowned out by the tap of rain against the window. 

Just when she was beginning to think he was asleep, he turned to her, the sheets rustling with his movement. 

"Everything okay?" he asked. It was hard to make out his face in the dark, but his voice was soft. He reached forward and brushed back a piece of hair that had fallen across her cheek. 

Nancy took a moment to think and just absorb the trace of his touch.

"Everything's okay," she said finally. 

Her left arm was in the space between them, and he placed his hand atop it, moving his thumb slowly across her skin.

"I just have something to tell you about the veil." 

He exhaled, but unable to see his face clearly, she didn't know what to make of it. 

"There was more than Temperance giving me a choice,” she said, just loud enough to be heard over the rain. “I lived the future for a month.” 

His thumb froze on her arm. “A month?” 

“It was only seconds for you," Nancy said. "But Temperance showed me the future if I killed her then. That’s how I knew to take the shrapnel from Ryan’s neck. It killed him.”

“Nancy…” Ace shifted closer, putting his arm around her so his hand rested at her back. 

“I told Ryan. He’s the only other one who knows.”  

"I'm sorry." 

"Me too." Nancy shifted closer to him, and they were sharing a pillow. 

“What— what else happened?”

There was another flash of lightning, and for a moment, she could see him perfectly. The concern in his face. 

When the thunder that followed faded, she spoke.

"We were together."

Ace's hand shifted on her back. "Like this?"

"Yes, like this," she whispered. 

“For how long?”

“Only a day and a half.” She felt his breath on her face, and his hand moved again at her back, this time in circles. “But it was long enough to know what the curse would take.” 

Nancy closed her eyes, trying to stay in this moment rather than the one in the weeds. When she opened them, her hand found his heart—its beat steady and his chest warm. 

“I knew it wasn’t real when you died. It was the one thing Temperance changed.”  

"Nancy…." He moved closer. "I'm sorry. If I had known—"

Nancy shook her head slightly. "There's nothing you could have done." 

"But still." He leaned forward, kissing her forehead. 

"I just wanted to tell you what happened."

A moment passed where the only sound in the room was the rain at the window.

“Was I any different?” he asked. "In the future."  

“Not really..." Nancy moved her thumb to his face, brushing it over the corner of his mouth. "But you were happy." 

"I'm happy now."

She shifted closer to him, tucking her head under his chin. He moved his hand to the back of her head, his fingers tangling in her hair.

Outside, the rain still poured.

"I'm happy too."