he really believed all of it, didn't he? he really thought jim's death had proven everything their minds had opened up to under the bottle tree. to everything they'd felt that day. tabitha had never been much of a believer, always keeping both feet planted firmly on the ground. it didn't take long at all for her mind to start building arguments against that possibility. it had been enough of a gamble to wonder if there really was such a thing as life after death. if maybe they were already dead... or—— or maybe they'd been stuck in a coma, & their brains had spun the worst kind of nightmare imaginable. it wasn't the first time she'd wondered if she'd seen or heard things that weren't really there.
it made her stomach turn... so sick with guilt that felt too heavy to carry. guilt over losing her baby. over the divorce. over failing julie & ethan. over never doing enough. & now, maybe, for pushing too far. guilty for trying to deny any of it when so many people had died because of those fucking monsters that came out every single night. & there was more — so much more — waiting to crash over her with the force of a current if she let those thoughts crack wide open. a door jade hadn't just opened, but accepted without looking back, it seemed...
❝ i'm not going to give up. ❞ tabitha shook her head. whatever it had been — some trick or not — she'd made it out once already. & she could at least try to get some of the others out of here, too. but how was she supposed to keep her children safe? what was the possibility this whole chaos did nothing but actually pushed them into something that would only get them all killed? tabitha sank into a squat, burying her face in both hands, her fingers tangling tightly in her hair. after a few deep breaths, she finally looked back at jade. her eyes were glossy again, one hand pressed tightly against her lips. ❝ how can you be so calm? ❞ she asked. ❝ how can you just stand there & accept it like it's fact... with all its— ❞ with all its implications. she couldn't bring herself to say it out loud. did he really believe they'd shared... what? hundreds? thousands? of lifetimes together? that they'd once had a little girl together. because of... whatever force could've bound them together through an endless cycle of lifetimes? it sounded completely fucking ridiculous. every rational part of her mind screamed in defiance.
she had to look away again when his eyes felt far too familiar. it was torture. ❝ i can't, jade... i just can't— ❞ she couldn't even let herself think about all the other implications. ❝ maybe it's that goddamn easy for you. but even thinking just of miranda— ❞
˜”*°•. The truth was he was just as scared . Scared that he was wrong, that he was dragging everyone into a pit of destruction, scared that everything was a lie. However, at the same time, he couldn’t ignore the feeling, the evidence. The fact deep down, everything made sense, that the puzzle had finally shown some true meaning. It wasn’t a blurred image anymore, and sure, some pieces were missing, some details were lost, however it didn’t feel impossible anymore. Sure, he didn’t know how they had ended up there in the first place, or who he was in the past lives, who Tabitha was, how they had met, what’d happened to this daughter they had. He knew nothing . Or well, almost nothing … for he knew they had to stick together.
❝ I am not . ❞ Was the only answer he managed to deliver. He was terrified. Having the whole town, all these souls, depending on whether they understood the puzzle and solved it on time, was far from peaceful vacation time. However, what was the alternative ? Hide away ? Act like nothing was real ? Panic and bury himself in idleness ? He would be condemning everyone to certain death - including himself. ❝ And it’s not easy… Otherwise we wouldn’t keep failing, would we ? ❞ So many lifetimes had they spent trying, so many different versions of the same exact story. Had they ever approached the solution ? had they ever gotten so close to the answers ? And then, what ? What mistake did they keep repeating that’d led them to this pile of failures ?
Still, at her next words, he hesitated. Maybe this was the problem they kept overlooking. The desire to understand who they were, ignoring the truth lying right before their eyes. ❝ You are Tabitha. Miranda is dead. ❞ They were people, and people changed. Different lives, different perspectives, different experiences. ❝ I am not telling you to ignore that part of yourself that still connects to her. But she is dead. Your children aren’t. ❞


















