The Shifting Fog | Chapter 47 of 50

THE END

Finally. After ninety-nine years my end has come for me. The secrets that have been restless in my head, growing louder and louder, pushing against my skull, anxious for release, are quiet now. The final thread that tethered me has released and the north wind blows me away. I am fading at last to nothing.

I can hear them still. Am vaguely aware that they are here. Ruth is holding my hand. Marcus is lying across the end of the bed. Warm upon my feet.

There is someone else in the window. She steps forward, finally, out of the shadow, and I am looking into the most beautiful face. It is Mother, and it is Hannah, and yet it is not.

She smiles. Holds out her hand. All mercy and forgiveness and peace.

I take it.

I am by the window. I see myself on the bed: old and frail and white. My fingers rubbing together, my lips moving but finding no words.

My chest rises and falls.

A rattle.

Release.

Ruth’s breath catches in her throat.

Marcus looks up.

But I am already gone.

I turn around and I don’t look back.

My end has come for me. And I do not mind at all.