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I don't know what to do now. Becky is safe with her parents, the investigator - I think her name was Nadine, but my memory is so crummy now that I could have been anything. Was it Marcy? Nancy? Maybe it was Natalie. No, Nancy. No, I've got to stop thinking about that now or it will drive me crazy! 'The investigator' it is.

This place - this awful, awful place where Mark and Connie's dessicated forms are somewhere. Can I make it my home? Can I make something of this life that I have now? I haven't lived in the outside world for so, so many years. The Simpsons have promised me that they will bring me help, police. Maybe I'm a missing person, and someone is looking for me but never knew.

I wave goodbye to Becky and her parents. Becky is still telling her parents about how she helped the investigator by emptying a trunk and getting a sword off a wall so that the investigator could get loose from where Mr. Whitmarsh had trapped her.

And then I walk. It's been a long time since I had come through here with a clear mind. I want to walk down to the sandy beach where Mark proposed to me before everything happened. Because of my memories, it seems like yesterda- if a hazy yesterday.

I lost my parents before I lost Mark and Connie, so I know that the grief will hit sooner rather than later, and it will be hard. Hard because I didn't get to say goodbye, not really. Hard because I don't know where the two of them are. I suppose the police will come and find all the bodies.

Maybe this will not be my home after all, unless Mr. Whitmarsh somehow appointed me the caretaker. But in some ways, I hope it is. I might be able to heal here, once everybody is gone. I might be able to find who I am while someone teaches me to be part of the world that I've missed.

Here in the Redwoods, maybe I'll find peace. I don't know. I can only gaze at the sky, try to smile, and hope that my life will settle down soon.