I move closer to the glass, as close as I can get to it, begging her, begging Lily, begging Grace, begging all of them to tell me what's left, to just tell me, while the girl pushes against the window, turns her tiny hands into tiny fists, begging me for a taste of - life. My life. Lily disappears. Grace. They all leave, they're gone, they will never be here again. But the weight of what they've shown me is settling into my bones. I don't know if I will keep it, but just in this moment, however brief, I feel closer to it than I ever have before. . . The dead girl presses her face against the glass. She waits for me to tell her what's next.