Dominic's eyes fluttered open as he jolted into an alarmed state. His heart raced with confusion and fear before his gaze fell on Crystal, who lay by his bedside, her arm draped gently across his legs.

Despite the bandages adorning her lip and forehead, she exuded an aura of peace and tranquility, a stark contrast to the turmoil that had consumed them both. Dominic couldn't help but feel a pang of guilt for what had happened, knowing the toll it must have taken on her. She appeared to be asleep as her features softened in repose, a testament to her exhaustion.

With a mixture of relief and remorse washing over him, he resolved to make amends and ensure that Crystal's peace remained undisturbed.

"You're awake," Mrs. Norbrooke's voice rang out. Her tone held a blend of relief and enmity.

Crystal stirred beside him, her eyes filled with repose and concern as she regarded him.

"Nic, You're up! How are you feeling?" She asked.

"I'm alright," Dominic replied, though the moment the words left his lips, a sharp throb of pain erupted in his head, contradicting his reassurance.

Dominic winced as he gingerly reached a hand to his throbbing head. Feeling the tightness of the bandage at the back of it. His nose, also adorned with bandages, throbbed in tandem, a clear indication of its broken state.

"Easy now. You hit your head pretty hard. And your nose is broken too," Mrs. Norbrooke confirmed, her tone laced with concern as she observed Dominic's discomfort.

"W-what happened? Where's Joel?" Dominic's voice trembled with uncertainty as he sought answers amidst the haze of pain.

"Well, the bastard had his wounds treated and was released to the state. He's a serial killer, after all, so it's bigger than Greenville. He'll probably be held in some special unit for high-profile or dangerous inmates to await trial," Mrs. Norbrooke explained, her words carrying the weight of the gravity of Joel's crimes.

"So, he's gone for good," Dominic's voice quivered with a combination of relief and lingering worry, his tone heavy with the weight of uncertainty.

As he considered Joel's fate, a tumultuous swirl of conflicting emotions churned within him.

He couldn't shake the unsettling notion that perhaps Joel didn't even deserve the confines of a prison cell. There were moments when he entertained the idea that he should have taken matters into his own hands, exacting justice in a way he deemed fit. Yet, the thought of crossing that line and becoming a murderer himself filled him with a profound sense of dread and remorse. People would have talked. They would have said that it ran in the family.

Mrs. Norbrooke and Crystal exchanged concerned glances, their worry mirrored in their expressions as they regarded Dominic, silently acknowledging the turmoil raging within him.

"I know it's not fair, but I can't help but feel a bit of resentment towards you for what your grandfather did," Mrs. Norbrooke confessed, her tone a fusion of guilt and frustration.

"Mom!" Crystal admonished.

Dominic's expression softened as his eyes reached Mrs. Norbrooke. His gaze was gentle yet filled with understanding. Despite the discomfort her words stirred within him, he recognized the validity of her emotions.

From the moment Dominic laid eyes on Joel's attic, he had braced himself for the inevitable scrutiny that would come with being related to a murderer. He knew that people would speculate, casting doubt and suspicion upon him. Perhaps they would even insinuate that he had somehow been complicit in Joel's crimes, or worse, suggest that they were both involved in his parents' death.

But Dominic found himself strangely indifferent to the judgment of others. He had already weathered the storm of pain and loss, tussling with grief and disappointment like no other. In those darkest moments, when he had felt utterly alone, there had been no one to offer solace or support. No one except a ghost and an unconscious man.

He told himself that if world chose to ostracize him now, he was prepared for it. He had grown somewhat accustomed to navigating life's trials alone.

"But," Mrs. Norbrooke's voice faltered, choked with sentiment. "Thank you for saving our little girl. I know it wasn't your fault, and I'm sorry you have to endure all of this so soon after losing your parents."

Dominic's throat tightened at the genuine gratitude in Mrs. Norbrooke's words. Her trembling voice threatened to break through his defenses, stirring a wellspring of feelings within him. He shook his head, a silent plea to halt the tears that threatened to spill over.

"I-I'm sorry. To both of you," Dominic managed to say, his voice quivering with remorse. He turned to Crystal, the weight of his words heavy in the air. "He probably only became aware of you because we were friends."

"And the other girls? Did you know them as well? Some of them were killed when your dad was still a child himself," Crystal inquired, her grip on Dominic's hand tightening in a reassuring squeeze. "It's not your fault. It never was."

Their eyes met in a silent exchange, a wordless conversation filled with understanding and compassion, weaving a connection that spoke volumes without uttering a single word.

In the span of a few days, Dominic's life had been severely upended in ways he could have never imagined. It would take a long time before things could return to normal.

Dominic cooperated with the police and investigators, providing detailed accounts of the events while discreetly omitting the supernatural elements and guiding them to the location where he had hidden the diary filled with confessions.

After spending several days in the hospital, Mrs. Norbrooke managed to persuade the doctor to grant Dominic a temporary leave.

Following this release, Dominic paid a visit to Key's grandmother who had remained hospitalized due to her high blood pressure.

Dominic felt a deep sense of duty compelling him to speak with her. After all, she had spent 15 years waiting for her grandson to awaken. He couldn't bear to leave her in a state of unknowing.

"May I come in, Ms. Lowe?" Dominic inquired respectfully, addressing her by name.

Her head turned towards the door as she watched him enter.

Crystal lingered outside like a silent guardian, granting them privacy in this moment of vulnerability.

"Y-you," Ms. Lowe managed to utter, her voice quivering in response. "I heard you caught the son of a bitch. The one who killed m-my-"

Her words trailed off as tears welled up in her eyes, her body trembling with the weight of her grief.

Dominic's heart ached at the sight of her pain, but he knew he had to be strong for her. With tender empathy, he moved closer, his own eyes moist with unshed tears. Placing a gentle hand on her shoulder, he offered her solace in the form of silent solidarity, discreetly vowing to carry her burden with her, if only for a moment.

"I did. And I'm sorry. I'm sorry about everything you've been through all this time," Dominic apologized softly, his voice laced with genuine remorse.

"What are you sorry for? You didn't do it," she replied, calmly. Even with the lingering traces of sorrow in her eyes, they were still kind.

"It wasn't your fault. I'm just glad that monster will pay for what he did," she assured him.

"I have to know though, young man," she continued, her gaze piercing yet tinged with curiosity. "How did you know what Chase was wearing the day he was found?"

Dominic reflected on the moment he had recounted Key's attire to Ms. Lowe. He knew his words had resonated with her on a deeper level.

"Do you believe in fate, Ms. Lowe?" Dominic's voice carried a hint of sentimentality as he posed the question, his eyes meeting hers with introspection.

Inwardly, Dominic marveled at the fact that Ms. Lowe had actually entertained the seemingly insane story he had shared about encountering Key's consciousness. Her acceptance of what was happening was far different from Crystal's reaction which was initially skepticism and disbelief. She had even thought Dominic had potential brain damage from
hitting his head, meanwhile Ms. Lowe responded with a surprising openness and understanding.

Despite the heaviness of her grief, there was a glimmer of solace in Ms. Lowe's eyes as she reflected on the notion that, even if only briefly, Dominic had found companionship in the Key's presence.

Dominic learned a lot about Key's past following his visit with his grandmother. Key also had tragically lost his parents in an accident when he was just three years old. He and Celia had been friends since kindergarten and remained close throughout the years even though they went to different high schools.

When she disappeared, Key defied his grandmother's pleas to let the police handle the search and took matters into his own hands.

The detectives had deduced and informed her that Key had apparently found a significant lead when he broke into Joel's house years ago after tracking him down. He was struck in the head while trying to get away after Joel caught him and left for dead on the side of the road. Remarkably, it was Dominic's own parents who had discovered Key and rushed him to the hospital.

Ms. Lowe only knew them as Mr. and Mrs. Gray at the time and was stunned at the coincidence of their very own son coming to save her grand son once more. In a way, it comforted them both.

A mysterious pull tugged at Dominic's heart, echoing the same inexplicable force Key had described. Despite not having visited his parents' graves in quite some time, Dominic felt strangely unburdened by guilt.

There was only one place left for Dominic to visit now.

Crystal remained steadfastly by his side throughout the journey, her presence a source of comfort amidst the uncertainty. Dominic couldn't help but wonder if she was reluctant to leave him, perhaps out of fear that something might happen, or simply because she found solace in his company. Regardless of the reason, Dominic welcomed her companionship wholeheartedly.

Legally, Dominic was supposed to be placed in foster care since he had no other legal guardians to look after him. According to the law, he would remain in foster care until his birthday in December where he could freely do as he pleased as an adult.

Luckily, this was when he would finally come of age and gain access to the college fund his parents had set aside for him.

Crystal and her parents had kindly offered for Dominic to stay with them until he aged out of foster care. Moreover, Crystal's father, leveraging his connections with the university Crystal planned to attend, had promised to assist Dominic in gaining admission.

He had promised to consider their generous offer as the prospect of accessing those funds offered a glimmer of hope in spite of his current situation.

Parking at the front of Maybourne, Dominic gazed off in the distance at the ethereal figure of the dark-haired girl standing over her own grave.

Crystal remained in the car as Dominic exited, making his way over to Celia whose eyes remained fixated on weathered headstone.

"I thought you said she was your sister," Dominic jested, though his tone was far from humorous and closer to a melancholic murmur.

He stood beside her, reminiscent of that morning when they had first spoken in earnest, both of them fixated on the intentionally desecrated headstone.

"Would you have believed me if I said it was me?" Celia asked softly. It was if she was mirroring her ghostly demeanor.

Her ethereal presence, her skin glowing with an otherworldly radiance, her cold touch. She absolutely seemed to embody the essence of what Dominic called a beautiful specter. She was both haunting and captivating.

Dominic had believed Key to be a ghost, but now standing beside Celia, he realized his folly. She had been the true apparition all along. It was so painfully obvious it angered him.

"Probably not right away," Dominic admitted truthfully.

Celia's eyes glistened with what looked like unshed tears. Her form appeared to be fading away with each passing moment. The uniform she usually wore was still the usual disheveled mess and it made him recall his first impression of her. He had thought she was a rebel. But now, it only served as a testament to the turmoil she had endured.

"This was where you lived?" Dominic's voice caught in his throat as he referred to the words she had uttered at their first meeting. "Did you know all along?"

"That I was dead? Yes," she responded, her voice a perfect blend of calmness and melancholy. "Though, that is all I could really remember. The day it happened is still a fading memory."

"My grandfather. The wildflowers-" Dominic began, but his words were abruptly cut off by Celia's soft voice.

"It's okay, Nic," she said with a bittersweet smile, her form growing increasingly translucent by the minute.

Dominic's mind raced back to Joel's chilling confession about the wildflowers blooming after Celia was buried. In his visions, he had seen those flowers too, and now, as they conversed, he realized they were a manifestation of her existence through the realm between life and death.​

Dominic wondered if the same mysterious force that had brought them together had orchestrated all of this to happen.

"What's happening to you?" his gaze scanned over her body, now nearly translucent under the setting rays of the sun.

"I'm letting go," she replied simply. Her voice carried an air of resignation and gratitude. "You did it! Thank you."

"B-but," Dominic stammered as he reached out to grab her hands, only to watch in dismay as they passed through her ethereal form.​

"The bracelet you found. Key, well, Chase, had bought it for me all those years ago. Your father probably got it from your grandfather and gave it to your mother. The moment you touched it, I could finally leave this place. You've actually freed me in more ways than one," she confessed, her voice soft and fading.

Dominic listened in disbelief, the weight of her words sinking in. "Celia..." he choked with sadness.

"Don't you for a second neglect living your life, Dominic. Your parents would be so proud of you. I'll tell them. And I'll tell Chase too, just how great you did," she assured him.

As he watched her form become increasingly translucent, it eventually began blending into the fading light of the evening. She had become so ghostly, so ethereal, that she could easily be overlooked if one didn't know she was there.

She rested her spectral hands gently on his shoulders, and for the first time, Maybourne Cemetery felt warm.

"I'm glad you aren't alone anymore," she whispered softly, and Dominic knew immediately she was referring to Crystal.

"M-me too," he managed to choke out, a solitary tear escaping from his eye.

As she gradually dissipated into nothingness, the air around them grew colder once more, returning to its usual arid chill.

With a final, bittersweet smile, Dominic bid farewell to Celia's grave, then made his way over to his parents' resting place to do the same.

Every time he had to leave Maybourne, he took with him a heavy burden of sorrow and regret. There was always a lingering sense of damnation weighing on his heart.

But today, amidst the quiet stretch of the cemetery, a profound sensation enveloped him as he walked away— hope.

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End.