Lizzie shook her head at Jordan's question. "Sorry," she said. "I was just...sleeping. I didn't..." She gestured around at what electronics there were. "Also, I'm...I'm pretty dumb about electrical stuff, so..."
It seemed this strange gathering was already beginning to go its separate ways, and Lizzie felt a strange stab of guilt. She had been frightened, panicked, grieving. She still was, really. There were killers loose on the island. She'd given one of them her sword. Had he used it to kill Rea? Would he have killed Lizzie? Would he have killed Tara?
So many questions she didn't know the answers to. So many dead who shouldn't be dead. Lettie. Tina. Jesus.
"Thank you!" she called, as Jae faded away with Hazel. And she meant it. Because knowing that in the moment of pain, you weren't alone...that meant something. That was real
in a way so few things were. Because they reminded her that, whatever horrors had been unleashed in this place, there was still good to be found.
She could not escape their ghosts, however much she might want to. However much her hands might tremble, whatever tears might swell in her eyes. They were with her now. They would be with her for a long time to come. She reached for her bag, but...
But now was not the time. That time would come. Now was a different time.
She stood straight, breathing deep, trying not to cry. She smiled at the few people left in the room. Smiled particularly at Vanessa.
"Tyler and Harold met up," she said. "Harold told him that...that he didn't have to be alone. That they'd find a way to win." Her smile flickered, but did not fade. "Thank you," she said "I'm glad I wasn't alone."
She adjusted her bag, and moved to the door. "But he shouldn't be, either."
(Lizzie Luz continued in Last Days