And thinking of them both I felt their presence. And I knew my own face, muscles taught, mouth thin, eyes shut tight, so tight with fear and pain; and close by Clint lay asleep And Grandma and Cole silent.
All in my home.
And there was a whispering around me, gusted words from an angel's wish, and the whispering told me of something I already knew: that nothing can stop me returning, not the fear, nor the pain, nor the blackness.
Not even the spiders or the mountains could stop me.
I'm not like pain.
So I didn't sneak back.