"We will find them," the officer confirmed. "Somehow, someway, we will find the person responsible and bring them to justice. But for now... it would be a good idea to start looking into funeral homes." He tipped his hat before offering a small yet hopeful smile. "May Ms. Jones rest in peace. Good day to you all." With that, he exited the room and walked out of the house.

Brooklyn had organized a meeting with Sawyer that she was supposed to be leaving to right now. But now, looking at her devastated fiancé sitting among his mother and would-be wife's family, she decided it was best to stay. It was times like this when one was prone to irrational thinking and mortal sin.

Mr. Jones cradled Louie as if to shield him from Sam's profane screams. His eyes were filled with sorrow; for he, along with everybody else in the room, had overheard the officer's dreadful news. There was a long silence. A new weight had filled the air and any spoken words would crash into it. Carefully, Brooklyn sat beside Sam and rubbed his back soothingly. There was only the ticking of a nearby clock to occupy the quiet space.

Finally, Mrs. Jones spoke, "Sam and Patty... I feel like I should tell you how excited Brooklyn was to join your family. When she, Ella, and I went out to search for dresses last month, the both of you were all she could talk about." The aging woman smiled sadly at the memory. "Patty, she talked about how well you always cared for Louis. When you held him for the first time with Brooklyn and Sam watching, she thought you were made to be a Grandma. It was such a precious sight, she said, to see you holding him. Even before that, when she met you for the first time, she later told me that you were the most welcoming person she had ever met." Mrs. Jones turned to Sam. "And you... Brooklyn has been talking about you for as long as I can remember. It was so adorable finding that heart-shaped note in her backpack one morning many years ago and seeing her get so flustered when I asked her about it. To think that now, a decade later, you two were planning to marry.... that's so heart warming. Brooklyn loved you more than anything, Sam. She wanted to build a bigger family with you and have the honor of being called your wife."

Mr. Jones gently set Louie down on his play mat. "Remind us the story of how you proposed, Sam," he softly suggested. "Let us focus on the good times right now before looking into what the cop had said."

Sam thought the officer's confirmation that the monster who had killed Brooklyn was going to be caught was insincere. He guessed if there was a chance the person who did this was going to get caught they'd have already picked them up by now. In a small town the resources available were slight and Christmas brought about enough low level criminality and drunkenness he doubted Brooklyn's killer would be found. Not that Sam had any police experience to go off - he just felt that it was all so hopeless. It was just him and Louis now. However it was Autumn who, suffering as she was let a glimmer of hope enter the room.

Brooklyn's mother spoke in platitudes, clearly trying to make Sam and Patty feel better about themselves, talking about what a good Grandmother Patty was and how Brooklyn said....

It was at that specific moment he felt like the curtains had been opened and the dark, cold room let in the morning sunlight on a fresh winter's day. It was like he could see for the first time since Brooklyn left the house. Because it was true. What Autumn and Rick were saying weren't 'nice things to make things better' they were all true. Brooklyn loved Patty, loved Louis and loved Sam. Sam closed his eyes for a second and thought, 'you always loved me and I always loved you'. He opened his eyes and noticed the signs of Brooklyn all around, the photos, the books, the furnishings she'd chosen. Sam felt, that right now Brooklyn was with them in the room and that she always would be.

He smiled weakly at Mr. and Mrs. Jones, they were trying to help and deal with their pain at the same time but he appreciated them all the more.

"Pass Louie to me Rick," he said reaching out for the boy.

"I want him to hear this story."

As he sat Louis on his knee and settled him Sam thought of all the stories he would tell him about Mom. He thought that he definitely needed to write as much down as soon as possible so it would be preserved forever and Louis would always know about her.

"You know Rick, Autumn. I aspired us to be like you two and I think Brooklyn did also. We never talked about it but we wanted the perfect life and marriage and you were our role models. She was lucky to have you for parents and she rarely ever said a cross word about you guys. If I can be the father you were Rick, then I'll have done my job. And I know it, you have treated me almost like your own son for so long and I will never forget that."

Sam glanced over at his own mother. He didn't want her to feel any sadness about the disappearance of Dad. It was never her fault, never.

"So, I've always felt we had big shoes to fill, but I knew we'd try. And we did. Brooklyn was an amazing mother, the best. She was my best friend, my soul mate, my confidant. She made me better. I loved her, I mean, love her and I couldn't wait to walk down the aisle with her..."

Louis gurgled. He had sensed that the house wasn't right. 'Where is Mommy, what's Granny doing here, it's nice to see Grand Pops and Nanny' But Daddy was smiling again and he reached out his little hand, trying to put his fingers into Daddy's mouth.

"So, what you guys don't know is that I've actually proposed to Brooklyn more than once," Sam said, letting the thought rest.

"It was a long time ago. In fact we were still at school," he smiled. "We'd walked home from school one autumn afternoon. The last vestiges of summer were hanging on and the light shone on a sunny afternoon. The leaves were russet, turning brown and thinking about falling. We were holding hands, walking and..." Sam paused, looking a little disconcerted, "I thought at that moment that I wanted to die. It wasn't a sad feeling, it was a realisation that life would never, ever get any better than what it was at that moment in time."

Sam wiped a tear from his eye, but his smile was growing, "in many ways I was totally wrong. Life would get better - much better, but I didn't know it was possible to love another human being more than I loved Brooklyn at that moment. I walked her home, and I'm sure you knew, but we'd always kiss goodbye just behind that tree on the corner of your street. She didn't want you to see," Sam laughed.

Sam was thinking about those kisses. Some times sweet, some times gentle, some times so passionate he felt he would explode.

"That one night, I'd grabbed some chalk from my sister's. In retrospect it would have been better if I'd have got paint but then perhaps you may not have appreciated it. I left my home past midnight and walked over to your house. I chalked in big letters, in bright red in the road 'MARRY ME BROOKLYN'. I walked home. Actually, I skipped home to wait for her text - and answer in the morning."

Sam looked around the room, "It had been dry for weeks. In the early hours of that morning there was a massive thunderstorm and when Brooklyn looked out of her window that morning she would have seen nothing more than a rainy day. I was a little embarrassed by it, and I eventually told her. She said, 'next time you try that Sam, make it count and maybe you'll get the answer you want'. I knew, and she knew that I'd ask again one day."

"Now Louis, this is how you should propose if you're ever lucky enough to meet someone like Mom. Now and again, Daddy likes to play a little guitar, and I can't sing very well but I like to do my thing. There was an open mic night at the 'Horse' and we occasionally went together. Now and then I'd play. It was the day after we found out about you son, and everything happened so quick. I talked to Gerry, the owner and got a lot of friends in that night. What always makes me laugh is that I forgot to ask you Rick! I was mortified I hadn't done it right and I practically raced over to yours to ask your blessing. If you'd have said 'no', then I would have probably done it anyway!"

"That night, we'd had a few drinks and a bite to eat and Gerry got on stage and introduced me. I whispered, 'new song' to your Mom and got up. I had a little acoustic number which went something like,"



"And then Louis, I called out. 'Hey guys, can you help me out with this bit..."

"and I sang, 'Because if the answer's 'yes' then there's just one thing I want to say' and then pretty much half the bar sang along,

"Take me to the one I love,
because I can't live on my own,
Will you marry me? Miss Jones"

"and then I slung my guitar over my back, leaped down off the stage and tried to slide on my knees. It was meant to look slicker than it was but the intention was there. I held out my hand and Gerry put the ring box in my hand."

"'You've got to marry me after that' I said, and she just smiled, giggling and I knew I had it in the bag. Your Mom was going to be my wife."

Sam smiled and looked up at the ceiling, "you know guys. We weren't legally married but I consider her my wife and I will do forever."

It was tough telling the story but it felt good to say it. It felt good to share the good times and he loved putting the engagement ring on her finger.

Brooklyn could still remember the story he told as if it were just yesterday. With every new sentence he started, she knew how it was going to end. Hearing him recite the lyrics he used to officially propose her filled her with an indescribable warmth. All she had to do was close her eyes and it was like she was at the club again. After she had delivered her teary-eyed 'yes', she and Sam shared an affectionate kiss as the other people cheered. It was perfect. Later, as they fell asleep in each other's arms that night, there was a new bond between them with their child growing in Brooklyn and a wedding ceremony ahead of them. Everything was falling into place.

"That's so precious," Mrs. Jones commented. "I'll always remember how Brooklyn called me the next day when you were at work to tell me the news. I could hardly tell what she was saying because she was crying so many tears of joy. But when I finally understood what she was telling me, I almost demanded that she immediately drive down to visit me so I could give her a big hug!" She chuckled at the memory before turning to her husband. "When she and Sam did get around to visiting us and they announced she was pregnant, I still remember how you ruffled Sam's hair and congratulated him. What was that about?"

"What else was I supposed to do?" Mr. Jones shot back playfully. "Change my mind about letting him marry my daughter and excommunicate him from our lives?" At this, Brooklyn laughed. She was now casually sitting next to Sam with her head resting against his shoulder. Things were starting to look up, thankfully. She was glad her parents wanted to talk about some pleasant memories. Doing this had helped Sam achieve a smile, which was all she could ask for. That was the first time she had seen him grin since the car accident.

She really wished she could chime in on the conversation. But for now, listening would have to do.

"Oh, you," Mrs. Jones replied, amused at her husband's response. She turned back to Sam. "Anyways, this is proving to be a fun topic. When did you realize you were in love with Brooklyn?"

For a few moments Sam was 'almost' normal. They were talking as though Brooklyn had just popped out to go to the supermarket and wasn't laid cold in the morgue.

Looking at Brooklyn's mother Sam replied, "I don't know. I want to say the moment I met her, but it's never that simple. I told you about my first proposal. I knew I loved sweet Brooklyn then, I've told you about when we found out about Louis and I genuinely didn't think it would be possible for any more love in my heart and then I found out I did." Sam looked fondly at Louis on his lap and kissed the top of his head.

"Before that Valentine's Day I might have confided that I 'loved' her, but that would have been my secret and I doubt I truly knew what it was. Love is giving yourself totally to someone else, that your whole life belongs to someone else and you have given it and received it freely and openly."

Sam smiled and thought of his fiancée. There were some things in his mind he couldn't share with the company. That they'd both waited until they'd left High School before taking their relationship to the most intimate of levels. Neither of them had even kissed another person and whilst there was a certain hesitancy and awkwardness, it was nevertheless gentle, loving and beautiful. The way they looked at each other, whispering, 'I love you', sharing smiles and kisses. Sam brought his knees a little closer together and the memory made him quiver a little and that ache, that sharp ache that she was gone came back. Sam doubted that their parents would be keen to hear about them losing their virginity but he did remember the first time he said the words, 'I love you'.

"It was spring and we were walking in Spenney Wood, just down by the brook. The sun was shining but we were wrapped up with coats and scarves. We were holding hands, our gloved fingers intertwined and I stood on a log blocking our path. Brooklyn stood on the log and we met face to face and our lips met. We jumped down and headed down to the old bridge and we picked up sticks and dropped them into the brook. They got stuck together in the flow of the water and I said, something like, 'they're stuck together, like us'. She made a joke about the troll under the bridge and I leaned back, the wood was rotten and the handrail broke. I slipped and nearly fell into the water. Brooklyn's hand reached out and grabbed me, pulling me back into her. We laughed and pressed together, wrapped our arms around each other."

"I love you."

"It was meant as a term of affection, endearment but as soon as I said the words I knew I 'really, really meant it'. And when she whispered into my ear, 'I love you too Samuel Hanson, and I always will' we knew it was true and if we didn't know before, we were in love."

Sam hoped the parents were not made uncomfortable by this. Sam loved Brooklyn, the person she was, the way she looked, the shape of her, her imperfections, her warmth, friendship. No matter how much he teased and flirted with her, the thing he loved most was her soul. Sam believed that was still there somewhere.

"Classic Brooklyn," Was all Mr. Jones could say. His pink eyes showed that he was close to tears, yet a little smile still remained on his face.

Mrs. Jones nodded in agreement. She, too, looked as if she could cry soon. Her skinny hands wrung together as she processed everything. Losing her daughter wasn't easy. Sam losing his fiancée wasn't easy. Louis losing his mom wasn't easy. One person could mean so much to a variety of people, and in some cases, not even realize it.

After a couple minutes of silence, Mrs. Autumn Jones and Mr. Rick Jones decided it was time to go. First they hugged Patty goodbye, then Mr. Jones settled to give Sam a handshake since the former was still sitting with the baby on his lap. Mrs. Jones waved to her grandson before exiting the house hand in hand with her husband. Brooklyn watched all of this, feeling upset because she couldn't say farewell to her parents. But after they were gone, it was clear that the atmosphere had become lighter. Things weren't as gloomy as they were earlier that day.

Day by day for the next few days, that trend continued. The atmosphere was lifting. The biggest challenge was organizing Brooklyn's funeral. As Sam would be looking up funeral homes, his fiancée would be right there with him. This was difficult for her, too. But nothing was harder than hearing that the plans had been finalized: Brooklyn's funeral was set for January 2nd. Afterwards, her body would be cremated because it was all that could be afforded. What should I do? I don't think I can return to earth if my body is burned, Brooklyn thought to herself nervously. But the excitement of tomorrow helped soothe her fears.

Christmas occurred the day after the plans were finalized. From Brooklyn's perspective, it was an attempt at having fun. Patty returned, although Brooklyn's parents couldn't make it. Presents were opened and music was played, although there was an unspoken damper on everything. When the presents were opened, Brooklyn wasn't there to open hers. Yet Louis was able to receive the gifts she and Sam had planned for him: a few baby books, a stuffed elephant, and, of course, the rocking horse Sam had made for him.

It was the day of the funeral. Between Christmas and now, Brooklyn had met up with Sawyer a small handful of times. Those meetings were always something to pass the time with. During one particular practice flying session, Sawyer opened up about his own story: he had been married to the love of his life. Her name was Cecelia. She was his rock, Sawyer said, the one person that could always make him smile. And he was her caregiver. At a young age, Cecelia got in an accident which paralyzed her waist-down. She was stuck in a wheelchair and required assistance to shower, change clothes, etc. When Sawyer laid eyes on her for the first time, he knew he was in love. She had beautiful blonde hair and blue eyes which shone with pure hope. All Cecelia ever wanted was the best for everybody else. After meeting Sawyer, they knew they were destined for each other. Cecelia was able to fire her old caregiver, who was always cranky and demanded an unfair amount of money. Sawyer genuinely wanted to take care of her, all for free. Cecelia offered payment, but it was quickly rejected. Everything felt so right between them. They married, and Sawyer recalled that she looked like an angel as she rolled herself down the aisle.

Things were going great, until a few months down the road, Sawyer suddenly got a heart attack. He passed away in front of his poor wife. Sawyer went to Levin, where he did as Brooklyn later did and begged to go back to earth. But then Dog broke the news to him: his wife committed suicide almost immediately after Sawyer's own death. The man was devastated. However, to Dog's surprise, he still desired to be sent to earth. So a deal was made: if Sawyer could save five different people's lives, he could go straight to heaven to reunite with his wife. If he never saved five lives, he would remain on earth forever.

The story touched Brooklyn. She then told him about her own story- being engaged to her childhood lover, currently having an infant at home, driving to a friend's house one night and getting hit. Sawyer empathized. Sharing their stories helped them grow closer as friends. Throughout their various meetings, Brooklyn was gradually able to fly higher and higher. Now she really felt like an angel.

Currently, Brooklyn sat by Louis' crib. The funeral was set to start in three hours.

Christmas was hard.

Patty and Jennifer spent time with Sam and Louis on Christmas Day and for that he was eternally grateful. He woke up Christmas morning and thankfully, due to having a small baby it was very much the same as every other morning. There was something about the routine that helped Sam during that first week. He could go on auto-pilot, he could avoid thinking about her. Not that he wasn't hurting, but going through motions of 'things to do' made it all a little easier.

Having Louis around helped also. There would be no point living without him. Sam never seriously considered taking his life but there were times, like when Louis was asleep and he had space to think that it hurt so bad. He didn't want to die, more he wanted the pain to stop. Death would be a release and he would be with Brooklyn again. Louis stopped all that. Sam had promised Louis on the day of his birth to protect him and Sam kept his promises.

He went through the traditions at Christmas. Mom cooked a dinner and they entered into the spirit of things. Louis liked the fuss that was made of him and although he was far to small for the rocking horse Sam the little boy had fun. It pained Sam so much that Brooklyn hadn't seen the finished rocking horse. She would have adored it.

Brooklyn absolutely adored Christmas. She'd sing carols, decorate the tree and the house, volunteer at the homeless kitchen. She adored giving and receiving gifts, her wrapping was always exquisite. She helped cook the Christmas meal that was enough to feed an army and family, friends and neighbours were always close in and out of each other's houses. She was exhilarated and excited at the thought of Louis' first Christmas. It broke Sam's heart to know she wasn't around to see it.

'Louis' first Christmas' helped a lot. It was a shift in tone away from 'First Christmas without Mom'. Louis wouldn't remember this Christmas as either so it gave Sam strength to think of it as Louis' first.

After the excitement of Christmas comes that empty week before New Year. It's cold and grey and a post-Christmas laziness and boredom settles in. Not for Sam. It was a week of dread. Pure dread. He was counting down the day until he had to say goodbye. He wished time would stay still. No funeral meant she wasn't dead and that she could walk through the door. He missed her deeply.

---

The morning of the funeral arrived and Sam felt awful. He tried to look after Louis but spent most of the time in the bathroom. He vomited his breakfast, his throat and mouth coated with regurgitated cereal and coffee. His heart beat fast and his eyes ringed damp. He sat on the toilet and his bowels evacuated. He put his head in his hands and the realisation that he couldn't cope and wouldn't cope. He tried to pull it together, he really did. He showered and got ready to put his suit on but when he walked he realised he was sweating and feeling light headed. He felt faint and that he was going to die. Sam, for the first time in his life was suffering from such anxiety and stress it was debilitating him. Not today of all days. Today was the day he had to be the man Brooklyn deserved. He could not fail her. Not today.

Sam insisted on Louis being at the funeral. It wasn't as though he had a lot of options for babysitters anyway. Everyone he'd trust with Louis would be at the funeral. They all loved her as much as her. Louis' crying, gurgling and babbling would distract people in their grief and Sam felt Louis had a right to be there.

Sam, Chad and Rick were pallbearers. It was the last act of kindness Sam would ever do for Brooklyn. He loved Chad like a brother for being there for them. The man with the greatest weight was Rick. No man should ever have to carry his daughter for the last time. Sam worried about Rick and his health but the truth was he wouldn't dare try and sway Rick. It was their job to do it. Sam hugged Rick when the coffin arrived at the Crematorium. They were sat in the following vehicle and Rick said, "I held her and I kissed her when she entered the world. Today I'll hold her as she leaves."

Sam placed his hand on Rick's. They didn't need to say anything more.

Sam, Chad and Rick were stood by the hearse as the mahogany coffin was gently and delicately raised by the undertakers. Sam and Rick were asked to come to the front as the undertakers helped them rest the coffin on their shoulders. Brooklyn was a slight woman but this coffin, even though there were six of them carrying her it was the heaviest thing Sam had ever felt.

As the bars of the music began for the funeral procession Sam couldn't hold it in anymore. He sniffed, tears fell but he would not break, he would not fall. He would carry her, this last time. Those slow steps allowed Sam to focus on walking ahead and nothing else. As they continued their slow march a sound from someone special broke the silence.

"Mama!"

The coffin rested on it's stand Sam walked to the front row where Patty held Louis, the little boy kicking his legs and arms to the coffin with a picture of Brooklyn beside it.

"Mama!"

Louis had done it again. He'd changed the mood. With him there Brooklyn would be too. Today was going to be horrible but with Louis by his side he could get through it.

Sam had written quite a lot for Brooklyn's eulogy. How could one encapsulate a life in just a few minutes? It wasn't possible. When the time came Sam stood behind the lectern and began.

"I want to... I want to...to talk about Brooklyn..."

He stared at his notes and at the congregation watching him. People who hardly knew her attending out of respect, her dearest friends and family heartbroken together.

"I can't do this," he said, "I..." Sam wiped a tear from his eye.

Sam closed his eyes and stood silent for a few seconds before whispering, "I love you."

Sam opened his eyes and felt Brooklyn's love in the room and all the love in his soul poured out in a monumental show of strength. He folded up his pages of notes and spoke...

"This is the hardest thing in the world I'll ever have to do," he said catching his breath, "no one ever expects to have to do this, but as sad as I am, as devastated as we all are I feel proud to speak of Brooklyn today."

"Because Brooklyn spread love and joy wherever she went. She was a good person, a kind person. What I love most about her is her consideration. She never did anything without thinking about how it impacted on others. She was my best friend throughout our formative years and my soul mate and confidant."

"These are words you shouldn't have to hear today. If you're here then you were going to be at our wedding next year and you would have heard a different speech. Much of the content would be the same but it would have been a speech filled with hope of a live lived together rather than a life lost."

"Brooklyn was an illustrator, a daughter, a friend, my lover and Louis' mother. She was a natural mother and you will have heard our precious boy say his first word today. Every time I look at him," Sam said smiling at his son, "I see Brooklyn. He was conceived out of love and his life will be filled with love."

"She pored her heart into everything she did. She was successful in her growing career because she cared. She didn't draw - she created images for children to love and remember forever. She was trustworthy and honest. She saw the best in people and created the best in me."

"I've shared a few stories about her over the last few days, about how we started dating and fell in love, our getting engaged. You will all have your private memories of her, you'll all remember her smile, her laughter. One of my favourite things to do with her was to shout out words and she'd instantly spell them out for me laughing. 'Pharmaceutical', 'onomatopoeia', 'prospicience'! I didn't understand half of them but she would rattle them off. I'd demand a kiss for everyone she started getting wrong, but then I stopped doing it when she started spelling them wrong on purpose. She was intelligent and funny. She forgave when she was cross and we never went to bed on a dispute."

"She opened her heart to me when we were at school. She was brave. She had a part time job working in a store the odd evenings. Ella, her best friend, told me she was saving for a new guitar for my birthday. I never saw that guitar. The Haiti earthquake hit and she donated all her savings to those poor families who had been devastated by that horrible event. Pleasing her boyfriend, or helping strangers in desperate need. That was her choice and I think I love her for this more than anything."

"I love you Brooklyn, and although I hope Louis and I live a long happy life, I'll also be counting the days before I can see you again in heaven."

Sam slowly walked away from the lectern, stood by the coffin and rested his hand on it. He kneeled and kissed it for the last time.

Goodbye Brooklyn.

Nothing could ever impact Brooklyn as much as Sam's eulogy did. Not even Louis' first word- Mama. She had been sitting next to Patty as that happened. "It's only 'dada' right now," the young mother cooed sadly. However, there was still a light in his words, because it further inspired Brooklyn to complete her goal. She was going to save her body from cremation. There was already a plan in mind for it. Her attention shifted from Louis to the speaker once the ceremony began.

It was surreal to hear people talk about her being dead when she was sitting amongst them. A prayer was spoken for her soul, and she could only remain silent. Right now, she was her soul. She was sitting among her family and friends as they mourned for her.

When the eulogy began, Brooklyn immediately knew Sam wouldn't be able to use his notes. They wouldn't be of much use in his current state. She knew she was correct when he folded up the notes and started speaking from the heart. "There we go," she whispered proudly. It was much more natural for Sam to speak to a crowd like this rather than from a script.

The passion and sorrow he spoke about her with made her grieve not for herself, but for her family and friends. Highlighting how important Brooklyn was also emphasized how big of a loss she was. Of course, the speaker was biased. Brooklyn wasn't perfect, she knew that. Yet somebody doesn't need to be perfect to be adored. As Sam spoke, she looked over at her parent's and Patty's faces. All three of them were sobbing. Even Atumm and Rick, who had been a source of strength only a couple weeks ago, were now weak.

Soon, as Sam reached the end of the eulogy, Brooklyn's angelic form found itself crying, too. The one she loved most was in pain, and she was the cause of it. Never before had she heard him talk about exactly what she meant to him- what she meant to everyone. "I love you so much, Samuel Hanson," she choked out between sobs. "Someday I'll return the favor and tell you exactly what you mean to me. When that happens, we'll be standing at the altar. I'm going to marry you someday, Sam. I'm going to marry you."

All too fast, the funeral soon ended. It was almost time to do the most daring thing she would ever have to do. She stood far away from her body as the visitors made their rounds to say goodbye to Brooklyn. The line filed past rather quickly, with the exception of the grandparents and Sam. Although Brooklyn didn't know exactly what they were saying, she had a decent idea of what it was. She was thankful that they were taking the time to say goodbye to her for what they thought was the one last time.

After everybody else had left, a couple morticians entered the room to wheel the coffin into the back. Nervously, Brooklyn followed them. This was her one shot at saving her body, so there was a lot on her shoulders right now. One worker turned on the cremation chamber to heat it up, while the other worker lifted the lid of the coffin to make sure the body was still in tact. Sure enough, Brooklyn's lifeless corpse was there. The scratches and bruises were evident against her ghostly white skin.

"Oh shit," he commented, "How did she die, again?"

The other worker turned to him. "Car accident. Hit and run, tumbled into a ditch."

"Damn. Poor girl."

As the chamber heated up and the morticians chatted, Brooklyn tried to pry open the electric panel. It was stuck. "Come on, come on, come on!" She whimpered.

The worker who turned on the chamber looked over, "William, what's going on over there? The panel is shaking."

Crap! Brooklyn immediately let go of it. Okay, okay, I need to calm down. Time for plan B. Her hand traveled through the door, blindly flipping switches. The light in the room turned off, then a light in the hallway, but not the chamber.

"Okay- Will, hang on- I need to check this out," the aforementioned worker spoke, blindly walking over to the panel. He kept a hand on the wall as he trailed over to it. No, no, no! Brooklyn thought, quickly flipping off some more switches. Success finally came when the chamber was turned off, allowing her to breathe a sigh of relief.

To her dismay, the worker found the electric panel. He opened it with ease and used his phone's flashlight to inspect it. "Everything was switched off," he announced to his coworker. "That's odd." Casually, he switched everything back on. The chamber started to heat up once more. "I'll stay here in case it happens again," he told his coworker. The other man nodded.

Brooklyn bit her lip. What should she do now? There was no Plan C. She started thinking of a new plan. If only she could reveal herself or take human form. Should she try to act like a ghost to frighten the workers away? Should she try attacking them? God damn it, time was running out!

The chamber beeped, indicating it was ready for the casket.

The casket!

It was laying on a track which would soon roll it into the chamber. If she could move the casket, there would be no body, which meant no cremation. But how would she move it? She didn't want to push it over and damage the coffin. That was still her body in there.

Suddenly, the track began moving.

There was no more time to think.

Brooklyn dived onto the track, traveling into the chamber with her body. The metal door slid shut behind them.

The heat was intense. Although it wouldn't hurt the angel, she could sense it was wretchedly hot in there. Space was tight. She opened the casket slightly to pull her corpse out as carefully as possible. The foul stench of her dead body was strong, piercing her senses. How long had it been since she died? Two weeks? It felt like an eternity until she would be able to return. That is, if she could save her body.

The angel started to wiggle towards the door. The coffin was on fire, which caught onto the clothes of Brooklyn's body. Almost there...!

Bump.

The body was unable to pass through the door with the angel.

As the body went up in flames,

the angel left the chamber,

screaming and crying hysterically.

Her body had been reduced to ashes.

It was over. The funeral was over. Brooklyn had gone and everything around Sam continued. They drove back to the wake at his house, people came in and paid their respects. Friends and family spoke in hushed tones, everyone passed their respects and kind thoughts and Sam heard loved ones meaning well informing him, 'that if there was anything they could do, he just had to ask'. Once Sam had heard this for the tenth time the one thing he wanted to say was, 'unless you can bring Brooklyn back, there is nothing you can do'. He knew they meant well and came from a good place but it was tiring. Sam just wanted everyone to go.

Life went on. Louis still needed feeding, changing and sleeps. Life went on. The mourners finally left, his mom and Brooklyn's parents the last to go. He hugged them dearly at the door. He felt with the three grandparents he at least had a fighting chance. The door closed. That night Sam opened a bottle of whiskey they'd got in for Christmas. He sipped his first glass, lost in the melancholy of his thoughts. The glass empty he stared at the bottle. He wanted to pour another glass. He wanted to drink the whole bottle, to descend into oblivion and forget. He imagined Brooklyn looking down on him, how sad she would be to see him in this state, how she would want him to be a good father to Louis. He screwed the lid back on the bottle and went to bed, waiting for life to start again.

---

When was it going to stop. The days after Brooklyn's funeral were filled with loneliness and sadness. January was grey. The town was cold and grey. Everywhere he looked was drab and muddy. A life without Brooklyn was a life devoid of colour. The streets, the buildings were all drained of life, the people he passed went about their life whilst he was trapped in this miserable existence. Thankfully the phone calls of friends had stopped. It was emotionally draining listening to those calls from people who wanted, but couldn't help. The calls had stopped but then he felt himself pining for someone to talk to. Autumn and Rick still called, but they had their own pain, and their own lives to lead. Patty still came round, but he wondered when life would be 'normal', not that he ever wanted 'normal', because normal without Brooklyn wasn't normal.

He had returned to work and put Louis into day care. He needed to provide for the boy and he felt terribly guilty that he wasn't there all day but he didn't have a choice. The quiet at the library helped him deal with his grief and his colleagues gave him the space he needed. He struggled being friendly with the visitors but managed to maintain a distanced politeness. In the store after work, picking up groceries he wondered how everyone else could just carry on. How can life just carry on? Is my grief and Brooklyn's death that unimportant in the scheme of things? How can it be?

---

Sam spoke about Brooklyn to Louis every day, keeping a photograph of her in his room. She'd watch over him from Heaven, of that he was sure. Each night he kissed that photograph in front of Louis and would put Louis' hand on it, whilst Sam repeated, 'Mama'.

---

Sam broke down often. Other times he felt resolve. He tried to think what Brooklyn would want. He went into his bedroom and opened her wardrobe where all her clothes were. He intended folding them neatly and donating them to charity. A woman's refuge, a homeless shelter, families in the third world, anywhere where the things she owned could do good. Sam stared at the clothes. Her folded jeans, tops hanging in the wardrobe, shoes in the base. He closed the door. Not now, he couldn't give them away. Not now. He reconsidered and went into the bathroom. Like most women, Brooklyn owned an multitude of soaps, lotions, haircare products. Sam went to dispose of them and gather them in a bag. He put her shampoo in the bag first and sat on the bathroom floor and cried again. He put it back. Not now, not today.

Life goes on.

No matter how much one person may want to rewind it or halt it, it always goes on.

Sometimes it speeds by like a jet plane.

Sometimes it crawls by like a tortoise.

The weeks after the funeral were definitely the latter. Brooklyn was constantly anxious, wondering what would happen once the three months end. One was already over. Would she be rebirthed as an entirely new person? Would she be stuck as a talking urn? Would she go to heaven? The answer was unclear. More than ever, she wished she had some way to contact Dog. Surely he would know the answer?

The meetings with Sawyer stopped. Brooklyn lost the will to expand her flying powers to the maximum. Being an angel was fun and games at first, but now it was plain depressing. She lost her body, and along with that, her will to carry on. The only reasons she stayed were to know what her family was up to and to avoid going to hell.

She was glad Sam hadn't given her trouble with that yet. He was being a great person despite these difficult times. Perhaps that would be different if he knew that his fiancée had failed her one mission: to rescue her body. Right now, her corpse was nothing but a pile of ashes. Brooklyn's hopes and dreams for the future had been severely compromised, and Sam was clueless.

Louis started talking more and more, although it came out in babbles. 'Mama' was a common one due to Sam's ritual of showing him pictures of her, 'Dada' appeared occasionally, and at some point he said something that sounded either like light or sight. There were nights when Brooklyn considered revealing herself to her son before remembering that that would still result in hell.

One day, Brooklyn realized that perhaps she didn't need to make herself visible to comfort her family. As long as everything she did was subtle, she doubted it would result in hell. And if it did... well, it would be worth it. She found Sam in the bathroom. It appeared that he had stuck her shampoo in a bag but stopped due to a breakdown. "Oh Sam," she murmured aloud. Suddenly, that gave her an idea for her first subtle act: sending those words to his mind. If she remembered correctly, the contract stated she was able to send brief thoughts or ideas into creature's minds. This would be her first time trying that out. Looking at him lovingly, she gently placed her hand on his head and willed herself to send her previous words into his mind: "Oh Sam." He would hear it in her voice.

Sam sat quietly on the floor and dried his eyes looking up at the shampoo bottle placed back on the ledge in the shower unit. It had only been a few weeks, it was too soon to begin to erase Brooklyn's things from his life and the home. Sam knew that whilst her ordinary household things were still in the house he was open to the idea of her walking back through the door, something that he knew was not possible.

Sam sat and rested his head against the side of the bath wondering what Brooklyn would say if she was able to see and hear him right now. He often had conversations with her, seeking her guidance when he was struggling through the day.

"Oh, Sam!"

He imagined Brooklyn's soft voice comforting him as he tried to deal with the contents of the bathroom. What would she want? She wouldn't want him to sit on the floor sad. She'd want him to deal with the situation. Never forget her, always love her but move on all the same. He and Louis had a life to live. He heard her voice clear in his head. It was a little disconcerting, but all the same he felt a warm glow that he had not forgotten the sound of her voice.

"I wish you were still here with us Brooklyn, but I know you're not. It feels so wrong, just packing up your shampoo but I know we've got to move on."

"I wish I knew what to do honey."

Sam wouldn't do the clean-up today. It could wait. Louis soon awoke from his afternoon nap and Sam hugged him.

"I've just been talking to Mommy, she's still here with us son. She's always here as long we remember to love her."

The next day Sam noticed something he hadn't noticed much in the last few weeks. Winter sunshine in the morning. It was a bright Sunday and still very cold. Louis hadn't been having much fun recently going through a breakfast - day care - home - bed routine. Following his reflection on the bathroom floor the previous day Sam woke up much more alert than he had been previously. He felt guilty thinking about a 'new Dawn' but he let it pass. He couldn't and wouldn't be sad forever. He wrapped Louis up warm with his winter coat, hat and mittens and drove out to woodland trail and picnic site. It was disabled and pram friendly so Sam was able to push Louis in his stroller and they had a good walk on the trails. Sam loved the crunch of the wheels of the stroller as they cracked the hard frost, the blades of grass looking like thin white matchsticks. He looked up at the sun shining through the branches of the trees, still bare and weeks from the first buds of spring. He looked between the spaces of the branches and saw the light in a completely different perspective. He felt like he believed in Heaven and Brooklyn was there watching them all the time.

Sam saw a stick on the ground and picked it up. They walked a little further on and Sam saw what he was looking for. A patch of hard dried mud, which in summer would be squelching and difficult to walk in without one's feet sinking.

Sam stopped the stroller on the path and scratched in a little message.



If Brooklyn was watching she'd see it and know that they were thinking of her and that they were okay. Sam blew a kiss to the sky and even though the next rain or snow would remove the message he felt happy that he'd left something there for her. For the briefest of moments Sam allowed himself a smile.

When Sam got home he gave Louis his lunch and when junior went for his afternoon nap Sam did something for the first time since Brooklyn went out that night - he picked up his guitar.

Sam wasn't the greatest singer or lyricist but he strummed slowly and felt somewhere there was a song, a song for Brooklyn...

'Now she's gone, now she's gone, Brooklyn's gone away,
I only wished I had one more day,
but Brooklyn's gone...'

'Fast asleep, resting now, to early to move on,
But I see her every day, in our son,
Brooklyn's gone.'

'She never got a chance to pull through,
but each new dawn I knew, that I loved you,
Brooklyn's gone.'

The message was adorable. It made Brooklyn, who had been strolling alongside Sam as he pushed the stroller, smile. "I love you two so much," she spoke, looking between her lover and her son. They were her greatest blessings. When they arrived back home, Sam even took out his guitar to sing. That surprised Brooklyn. It felt like it had been forever since Sam last played. The chords were incredibly lovely. She watched Sam with adoration in her eyes, the same way she did when they were still children falling in love.

But then a minor chord was played, and suddenly Brooklyn's mind went back to that one fateful night.


The angel's jaw had dropped and her eyes went wide as if she had seen a ghost. Who hit her, and why? Closing her mouth, she looked at Sam. He needed to know. "It wasn't an accident," she told him through their mental link.

Sam strummed along, enjoying the creative process of song writing and singing. It was a song for her, a tribute for his beautiful, lost love of his life. He picked up his pencil were he was scribbling the lyrics to the song when the words 'Brooklyn's Gone' were at the forefront of his mind and he remembered that old folk song, 'Delia's Gone'. The latter song was about a young murder victim, a little girl barely in her teens. The song was ruined, at least for the moment as he considered whether the song or lyrics were close to the other song. He couldn't have a song about Brooklyn having connotations of a cruel murder in his mind. Then he heard her voice.

"IT WASN'T AN ACCIDENT!"

He felt very frightened, very quickly. He heard, not audibly but clear in his mind Brooklyn's desperate scream. She sounded so terrified, like she needed him, like she wanted him with her. It was like a knitting needle boring into his brain, a sharp pain, like a whistle in the ear.

"B..b...bbrrooklyn?" he whispered, looking around the room. He felt the walls close in around him and suddenly felt he was being watched. Not by Brooklyn, but some malevolent force that was hurting her, torturing her. He'd never, in all their years together heard that tone in her voice but there was no mistake, it was Brooklyn.

"Are...are you okay?" he said tentatively, his voice trembling. He placed his guitar down and slowly walked to the kitchen, turning his shoulder to see if anyone really was there. He drank a glass of water and drained it quickly, he thought he was coping, he really did. The days were getting easier and better and now when he thought he could hold it together he was hearing voices in his head.

"I miss you," he said quietly.

He knew his mind was playing tricks on him. The song, he'd appropriated it from somewhere else at the back of his mind and now he was thinking that the accident wasn't an accident and was deliberate. He wanted the bastard who did it caught but now, his mind was racing at a hundred miles an hour. What if his mind was reacting to another perspective? What if someone had actually intended to hurt Brooklyn. That was worse, far worse but he was unable to reconcile it. There wasn't a single person in the world who wanted to hurt Brooklyn. She had no enemies in the world and neither had he. His mind was wrong, he'd imagined her voice. It was an accident.

---

The man sat at the wheel of his pick-up truck, his head hunched over the steering wheel. He drained his beer - his tenth of the day and snarled,

"I'll get the bitch."

"I'll show her pain."

He'd waited over a decade for this moment. He had lost so much. A home. A wife and family. She snooped and investigated to far. She wouldn't let it lie. She wouldn't drop it after all he promised her what would happen. For that she would pay. Brooklyn Jones would die.

He'd watched their movements, knew everything about her. That fucking perfect family. She hardly ever left the house but the years had taught him to be patient. He waited.

When opportunity knocks a man has to take it. He'd saw her set off without a care in the world. He was used to living in the shadows and not being noticed. He shuffled quickly to his truck and kept his distance. He knew where she was going - it was obvious. He overtook her on the road, the snow falling heavily and speeded a mile down the road. He turned the vehicle around and began to rev the engine.

He slipped through the gears quickly, accelerating faster and faster. He knew there was only her on the road. Faster, faster, faster. A man's life depends on the decisions he makes and this was the point of no return.

"FUCK YOU!" he shouted as the bull bar smashed into the side of the small town car. Out of the corner of his eyes he saw the car spin and he laughed. "Fuck You."

Brooklyn had to look away to keep herself from telling him It's me, I'm here. Revealing herself would be a terrible mistake. She had to reassure herself that Sam would be alright without knowing she was around. He was strong and capable. But right now, as she looked at him, he seemed petrified. "It'll be alright," she spoke aloud, reaching over to cup his cheek. "Two more months, my love. Then we will reunite.... hopefully."

Brooklyn still wasn't positive about what would happen now that her body was gone. Her hand solemnly lowered and she stepped out to check on her son. There he was- sitting on his play mat like he normally was. He looked cheerful with his rosy cheeks and little grin lighting up his whole face. "Your dad is doing great," she told him, "he's trying his best to be strong for you. For you, Louie. You helped save him. Keep being a source of sunshine for him, alright? Help him continue to see the light through all this darkness."

The baby cooed, and to Brooklyn's surprise, he said, "Mama."

"That's right," Brooklyn spoke, "Mama's here. Mommy loves you very much, Louie."

The baby didn't say anything. Instead, he picked up his purple rattle and shook it. A smile graced Brooklyn's lips as she watched her son play with his toys. He truly appeared gleeful. As long as he was happy, Brooklyn was happy. Even if the three months ended and she was unable to return to earth, she would likely be able to check on him to see what he was up to. Dog didn't seem like someone who would prevent her from doing that. She hoped Louis would be a kind man, similar to his father. Someone who was mindful of others, loyal, and was musically talented.

Sam was feeling confused. He 'knew' that Brooklyn was dead but he often glanced to the front door, expecting her to come through it and everything being normal again. He knew that emotionally he was in a long process of normalisation, rather than recovery. That didn't stop him having conversations with Brooklyn, imagining what she would say or think. Her counsel was a source of comfort in these dark days. When he wanted to stay in bed and not go to work he'd think, 'what would Brooklyn say'. When he felt so depressed he couldn't face putting on his clothes or washing he thought the same - 'what would Brooklyn say'. She would still have a presence in his life always. However that didn't change the worrying occurrence of his recently hearing her in his head. He felt he was losing grip on reality when he thought how it had occurred twice over the last few days. Brooklyn's voice was a source of comfort the first time, but the idea of her in pain haunted him. That she could still suffering beyond the grave made him feel awful.

He walked into the living room where Louis was oblivious to his Dad's precarious mental state. Sam was startled when Louis gurgled, "Mama".

Sam sat down on the play mat with his son and put his arms around the seated boy.

"You hear her too kiddo?" Sam asked as he kissed the boy on his head.

"I wonder if you babies see and hear things differently? And that you'll forget it all as you grow into a toddler, then a little boy. You'll forget...."

Sam tried to tease Louis by pulling on his rattle to take it off him, laughing as Louis pulled his hand back shaking it. They played pull and tug with each other, both smiling and laughing together. There eyes met in total love that can only happen between parent and baby.

"We'll be alright Son. Mama will be watching over us."

Sam picked his babe up and held him aloft before lying on the floor and placing the baby on his chest. Louis lifted his head up and slavered whilst smiling. The drool fell down and as Louis hid his face in Sam's chest his shirt was dampened by Junior's saliva. Louis lifted his head again and laughed. Sam hugged him firmly, yet gently and rolled the boy from side to side pretending to grapple with the boy.

"You and me champ. We can do it! We'll make Mommy proud,"

Sam played with his son and felt the love of their family coalesce together. "We are the power of three and everyone who lives here loves everyone else. Daddy, Mommy and Louis."

Sam resolved to go to the police station and try and find out what was going on. Maybe Chad would come with him? Maybe he should talk to someone about the voices? But not now, not today. This afternoon was time for Sam and Louis. Time long overdue.

Brooklyn now felt like she was intruding on their father and son time, so she respectively walked away. She went into her son's room rather than her own room, for a change. It was cluttered with baby toys, although not as terribly as it could be. Sam was doing a good job of keeping the whole house relatively clean despite how often he was prone to depressed episodes. He was a natural caregiver. Always giving, no matter the circumstances. It was something his fiancée adored about him. Even when they were young, she would notice as he would be the first one scoot over (typically closer to Brooklyn) to make room for someone who was approaching. Other times he would immediately be willing to lend a pencil to someone or show a new student the way to their classroom if they were lost.

Sometimes, he could give so much that he would forget to take care of himself.

Brooklyn touched one of the drawings on Louis' wall. The elephant portrayed in it was the same one from a successful children's book she had gotten the honor of illustrating. It was about a young elephant who got separated from their herd. While trying to find their family, they get help from a variety of other creatures along the way. Brooklyn couldn't help but feel like that resembled her current situation. She got separated from her family when she died and was now trying to reunite with them. Along the way thus far, she had gotten help from two 'creatures', Dog and Sawyer.

She slowly strolled over to another drawing. Unlike the previous drawing, there wasn't a story behind it. It was simply that she had been running out of ideas and 'Giraffes' had been Sam's answer when she asked him about it. At the time, she regretted not reserving space for two parent giraffes. There was only one, and it was unclear if that was the mommy or the daddy. Things were different now. It could be presumed that it was now the daddy since there was no longer a mommy to compete for it. Brooklyn looked at the drawing for a moment longer before deciding to walk out and check on her family again.

No news. Silence. The police had given him nothing since they had questioned him. Sam hadn't been arrested so it seemed clear that their interest in him had gone but the fact there was nothing else going on frustrated Sam no end. He wanted the killer caught. He wanted the person who ended Brooklyn's life to face justice. Sam wanted to look the person in the eye and ask them why.

- Why were you driving so recklessly?
- Why didn't you stop?
- Why did you end the life of a Mother?

Sam had called on Chad and asked for some help.

"Chad, can you come with me to the station? I feel that they aren't looking for Brooklyn's killer. I think they'll brush me off if I go alone. I'm not good with cops. I'm worried I'll lose my temper and make things worse."

Chad was a stand-up guy. On the other end of the phone he listened to Sam's request for help. He felt privileged that Sam felt he could ask for help. He thought Sam was holding up well under the circumstances and shuddered every time he thought of Brooklyn. He'd be as lost as Sam if anything happened to Ella.

"Sure I'll come over Sam. Why don't I bring Ella over? She can look after Louis for you for an hour or two. She misses the little fella, it'll be good for her."

Sam was thankful for Chad's help. He was beginning to be become a dependable friend and really an advocate for him when he had to deal with the police.

---

The following day Chad and Ella had cleared their diaries and visited Sam. Ella's face was sad when she entered Sam and Brooklyn's home. She'd lost her best friend too and Sam had been too wrapped in his own grief to consider other people's suffering.

"How are you doing Sam?" Ella asked softly, her hand delicately resting on Sam's forearm.

"I'm okay," Sam said, his eyes moistening a little. He felt bad. He had a sense that somehow he blamed Ella. If Brooklyn hadn't gone over to her house that night she'd still be alive. It was ridiculous of course and Sam never said anything, but nevertheless he couldn't really face Ella. What Sam didn't know was Ella too felt irrational guilt for something completely out of her control. Ella was an attractive, fun loving woman. She was Brooklyn's best friend growing up but the three of them had been a trio really and there was room enough for all of them in their relationship. Something had left Ella too, it was like the lights had been dimmed. Something had gone from her that perhaps would never come back.

"I miss her too," replied Ella before breaking eye contact with Sam. She saw Louis playing and that gentle lilt in her voice raised a little, "Hey big man!" she said picking up the boy, "are you going to have some fun times with your Auntie Ella today?" Ella gave Louis a little kiss and settled to spoil attention on Brooklyn's little boy.

---

As they drove over to the police station Chad spoke to Sam of how he was getting on and how Ella was feeling.

"You know, she's not doing okay really. I'm hoping an afternoon with Louis will do her good. I know I sound selfish Sam, but I was relieved when you called. I know you've got your Mom and I know you won't want Louis out of your sight at the moment but if you ever need a baby-sitter for a few hours, call on Ella, it'll help her."

Sam nodded. "I will Chad. I'll see what I can do," Sam said. Sam was dealing with things himself and didn't really want to see Ella that much. She was a part of their triangle. Every time he saw her he'd just know that Brooklyn wasn't there. In fact he couldn't remember a time he had spent time with Ella alone - Brooklyn was always there.

At the police station Sam visited the lead officer responsible for the case. Officer Collins was the man who broke the news to Sam of Brooklyn's death. He was the officer who interrogated Sam too. He was working when Sam and Chad entered the station. His heart sank. He didn't really have to tell the men anything at this stage. They were no closer to making an arrest and technically Sam was still a suspect. Deep down Collins thought the crash was an accident. Probably some drunk. Yes, it was still a crime and a serious one but he doubted there was malice in it. The driver either didn't know what they'd done or just panicked and drove off. There was a lead on the vehicle but not much to go on...

Laurence Collins poured some coffee for the two men and made himself a cup as they sat in the office.

"I'm telling you this because I think you should know. We've a lead, a small one and I don't want you to get your hopes up."

Officer Collins took a deep breath, "So, about a mile down the road we found some residue that indicated perhaps someone accelerated quickly. That's not unusual. Kids like driving fast on that road out of town. The snow and rain that night removed anything conclusively. I think we're looking at kids playing chicken or some drunk. I know it's not easy to accept, that some reckless scumbag has done this, but it's likely not malicious."

"We've also found a fragment of the bullbar that hit your fiancée's car. We've analysed the chrome plating and powder finish. We think we've isolated the part. We find the vehicle with a bent bar of that type and we may have a clear lead. There are also olive green paint fragments and shards of a headlight that don't fit Miss. Jones' car. We find that car we find the culprit."

"The killer." Sam said firmly.

"Mr. Hanson, Sir. I have to tell you that right now we're looking at a 'Death by Dangerous Driving' charge. The culprit will likely go to jail for a long time."

"An eye for an eye. A life for a life." Sam said looking directly at the officer.

"Sam, just listen to the officer..." said Chad quietly interjecting to settle the situation.

"I understand you Mr. Hanson, but this is an accident. The culprit was driving too fast, they may have been drinking. They may not have even noticed. Feeling that it was malicious won't help you Mr. Hanson. We'll find them and they'll face justice and they'll have to look at you, your son and Miss. Jones' family and face what they'd done."

Officer Collins was sympathetic but even at this stage the chance of an arrest was remote, and getting more remote with each passing day.

Remembering that horrible shriek of Brooklyn in his head Sam stood, a little agitated.

"But what if it WASN'T an accident!" as Chad and the officer tried to ease Sam.

---

85 miles North-east of the sleepy town where our lover's hearts were broken a Mountie stops by a roadside leading out of a valley, surrounded by cliffs blanketed by snow capped tall evergreen pines. She pauses spotting a road traffic accident and a vehicle in a ditch. She descends down the hill and notices something rather obvious. The vehicle has been torched.

She looks over the wreck, looking for anyone needing help, but most likely remains. Not much is apparent but she can tell it was a pick-up truck once and if forensics get lucky they'll find the owner. The truck was probably stolen by kids. Not to far from the wreckage, she spots some old papers, maybe acquired to get the fire going. She kicks them with her boot and sees some receipts. In the middle of them is a store card for a popular supermarket. She peers down and see's a name. 'Looks like we've got who torched this' she smiles to herself. She takes a photo of the scene and writes a name in her book before calling it in.

'Mr. Samuel Hanson'

What a day.

It was the first time Brooklyn saw Ella since her death, aside from the funeral. It was exciting to finally see her again. Unfortunately, it appeared that she was feeling some underlying guilt about the whole situation. The way she held herself, communicated with Sam, and looked around the house screamed guilt. Brooklyn despised the fact that her friend was upset. It wasn't Ella's fault, Sam's fault, or even Brooklyn's own fault- it was the killer's fault. However, at this rate, she doubted they would ever be found.

...But then the police officer said a lead was discovered.

Brooklyn was standing in the office right next to Sam's chair when the news was broken. Her fiancé's reaction shocked her. It was so bluntly morbid... she didn't know what to think. All she knew was that she was grateful when Chad intervened to calm him down. Chad was somebody that Brooklyn never really knew until he started dated Ella, and even then the two of them never went out of their way to chat with one another. That was a shame because he truly was a nice guy. Even now, he stood by his wife's best friend's fiancé to console him. Not many people would do that in this day and age. It would be so much easier to just send a 'sorry for your loss' card.

The meeting went on. As Sam brought up the possibility that it wasn't an accident, a baby from the other side of the door let out a cry. Brooklyn placed a hand on her stomach as she remembered what it was like to have Louis. It was nice to find a distraction during this harrowing conference.


Now, 16 months later, the baby was there but the mother was gone.

Officer Collins received the call from his counterpart in Stillcreek. He'd have liked to have said something along the lines of, 'I don't believe it' but his job was such that one never totally disbelieved anything. From believing victims, to considering the arrested pleas that they were innocent it helped to believe in the job. It helped review evidence more thoroughly. His mentor once told him, "In God We Trust, everyone else bring evidence." They were wise words because data and evidence was often irrefutable and trying to prove or disprove evidence often made a case stronger.

"Okay," he said wearily putting down the phone. His intuition screamed that this wasn't right but procedure had to be followed. They had found a lead in the murder of Miss Brooklyn Jones.

---

Mrs. Green was a neighbour who involved herself in everyone else's business. Living across from the street from Brooklyn and Sam she had of course been saddened by that tragedy involving the young couple and how sad it was for that poor boy raising a child on her own. This Tuesday evening she was busy keeping herself to herself when she noticed the arrival on the street.

---

Sam was feeding Louis after another day at work. The library had been quieter and he had been slowly able to begin to resemble a life approaching normality, at least professionally. He was tired after a long day but at least Louis bookended the day the right way. His son was his rock, his grounding that had kept him clinging onto sanity in those first horrible weeks, that helped him every day with coping with the terror of what happened to them. Sam heard the knock at the door and wondered who would be calling at that hour.

"Just a minute sweet pea," Sam said as he kissed Louis on the forehead as he left him in his high chair.

Sam answered the door and Officer Collins was stood there with another officer looking gravely on.

"Have you news? Have you found the car? Have you found who hit Brooklyn?" Sam asked, his voice agitated and excited at the possibility of movement with the case.

"Can I come in for a minute Mr. Hanson?" asked Officer Collins.

"Yes, of course you can," replied Sam. "What news do you have?"

"Mr. Hanson. Do you have anybody that can look after your son? We need you to come to the station with us," the officer replied formally.

Sam was confused. Why would he have to go to the station? Why couldn't they tell them here? What was the problem?

"I can't come right now. My Mom is working and it's nearly Louis' bed time. Can this wait until tomorrow?" Sam asked, frustration showing in his voice. He really needed to know what the police had found but he could hardly leave his son alone. Weeks had passed and no news and now they were being ridiculous.

The other officer spoke, "Mr. Hanson, if you cannot arrange childcare for your son Children's Services will look after him in the interim..."

"What the FUCK!" shouted Sam. Why on earth would they want to put Louis into care. Where these men deranged? What the FUCK was going on!

The officer moved towards Sam but Officer Collins intervened, only to say, "Call your lawyer son."

---

"~~~Stay there - don't say ANYTHING until Ella and I get there. Give the phone to me Sam, they can't do this now I'm engaged.~~~"

Chad was furious on the phone. He knew exactly what the police were doing and things had taken a turn for the worse.

"Ella!" he shouted to the kitchen where dinner was being prepared, "We need to go to Sam's now!" he called as he gathered his things.

---

In the living room of Brooklyn and Sam the officer spoke firmly and clearly. Chad and Ella were present, tears streaming in disbelief down Ella's face.

As the cold steel of the handcuffs wrapped around his wrists Sam heard those words which dragged his very soul to a pit in the deepest depths of the abyss.

"Samuel Hanson. You are under arrest for the murder of Brooklyn Jones."

No. It wasn't him.

This was the most terrible thing that could ever happen. Watching with wide eyes as steel handcuffs were put around Sam's wrists, Brooklyn began to doubt that anything would ever work in their favor. Louis started to cry in the other room, his wails echoing throughout the whole house. Brooklyn was caught between going to him or staying with Sam. Nobody else seemed to know what to do about it, either- Ella was sobbing as well and Chad was repeatedly opening and closing his hands into fists in frustration. Everybody except the law knew that Sam was innocent.

Eventually, one of the officers snapped, "For Christ's Sake, can somebody please shut him up?" Which caused Ella to give a little shriek and race over to the baby. However, she failed to make him stop crying by the time the officers and Sam left.

Brooklyn decided to go with Sam, at least for the time being. She flew alongside the cop car. This was the first time she had ever used her wings except while practicing. She had to remember everything that Sawyer had taught her as the trip to the station was made. Although it was only five minutes, it felt like it took an eternity.