Chiara reached out a trembling hand, laying it on her father's back.

"Oh god, he's so cold." She turned an ashen face to the two boys. "He's too cold, Drew." She rose and ran to the sofa, where a hand knitted blanket was neatly folded across the back. As she was grabbing it, Drew quickly felt Bert, then looked at Ned, who was standing motionless, just inside the door. He shook his head at the blond boy.

"Call an ambulance, Neddy, there's a good lad."

Ned nodded and stepped outside into the chilly twilight.

"Should we move him to the sofa?" Chiara asked as she returned with the blanket.

And Drew, who already knew that moving him anywhere would make no difference, shook his head, knowing that touching him would only tell Chiara what she didn't want to know.

"I think we should leave him where he is, darling, let the medical professionals take care of him, okay?"

Chiara nodded, so they floated the blanket down over her dad where he lay. Drew then carefully led the trembling girl away from the kitchen so she wouldn't have to stare at her father, lying there amidst the crumbled remains of the bag of crisps.

"Where's Ned?" Chiara looked around.

"He went outside to call the ambulance," Drew told her, putting an arm around her shoulders. He wished he could make her a cup of tea, but that would involve stepping over her father, which he just couldn't bring himself to do.

"In fact, you know, why don't you grab your over coat, and let's just wait outside with him," Drew suggested.

And it really showed how strange and off Chiara was feeling that she agreed to this, because under normal circumstances, she never would've agreed to leave her unconscious father just lying in the middle of their kitchen floor to go wait outside.

It made Drew think that, maybe on some level, she knew already.

She put her coat on as they went outside, where Ned was already off his mobile, standing in the middle of the yard, waiting for the ambulance. Chiara got her arms through the sleeves just fine, but seemed to have forgotten the knack of doing up the buttons, so Drew quickly did them up for her, all the way up to her chin. He could see her shocked blue eyes, huge in the deepening dusk, looking at him, looking as if they were made of glass.

They could already hear the sirens in the distance.

"See? Here they come already," Ned said, turning to her.

Chiara nodded.

Within a few minutes the EMTs had arrived, and Drew directed them into the house, while Ned kept Chiara outside.

"Please," Drew told them as soon as they were inside, "she doesn't know he's gone, don't cover his face when you take him out?"

"Sir, we can't lie on our paperwork," the EMT told him. "He was already deceased when we got here, we have to indicate that, and tell the next of kin."

"I know, but can you wheel him out like a normal person? Not zip him up in a bag, like?"

The EMT nodded understandingly.

They got him strapped down to a gurney, and went out to talk to Chiara.

"Miss Cavuto?"

Chiara turned.

"I'm so sorry, Miss, but there was nothing we could do for him. We won't know for sure until we do an autopsy, but it looks like he had a heart attack sometime within the last six hours or so. That's all we know for now. I'm so very sorry for your loss."

Chiara swallowed and her knees buckled.

Ned and Drew both reached for her, catching her before she went down. Her soft keening sounds were wrenching to listen to, and tore at Drew's heart.

"Why did I leave him? I knew he wasn't well, and I just waltzed off--"

"Shh, you didn't, you didn't!" Drew said, holding her firmly. "You went to work, which is what he wanted you to do, right? You left him to enjoy a day off, which is also what he wanted, innit? He was happy to spend a day at home with his tea and his crisps and telly, wasn't he?" He gave her a gentle shake. "You mustn't do this to yourself, Chiara, you mustn't."

Just then they wheeled the gurney out. Bert was strapped to it, with a blanket covering his body, but with his chest, shoulders and head uncovered like he was lying in bed, looking like he was sleeping in his clothes, thank god.

Chiara broke free from the boys, who were still holding her, and ran to the gurney, wiping her tears as she ran.

"I'm so sorry, Dad," she murmured. "So sorry."

"Come, Miss, let us get him where he needs to go," the EMT said, his voice gentle but firm.

She nodded as she sniffed and let them load him onto the ambulance. It pulled out, no sirens this time, and headed off.

"I guess we need to follow them," Ned suggested, gesturing towards Chiara's truck, so they all piled back in and left the house after she locked up.

"But let me take you two back to Langton first," Chiara said, looking between Ned and Drew as they drove.

"Don't be ridiculous," Drew responded. "We're not leaving you to deal with all this on your own!"

Chiara sniffed and hiccuped, but shook her head. "Please, I'm used to being on my own. We barely know each other, this isn't your problem to deal with. I'm fine, drive back to Langton, then I'll take the truck and be on my way."

"Absolutely not!"

Chiara huffed out a breath.

"Look, your chivalry is completely misplaced. I'll admit, I kind of fell apart back at my house when I first heard, but I'm fine now." She wiped away her tears. "If you two get recognized at the hospital or police station or whatever, the place will be a raging madhouse in nothing flat. Come on, you don't need the irritation."

Ned's voice was calm. "Look, you need to take our fame out of the equation for a tick and think about things, that's the way we do it:

"If we'd all met, and Ugly over there and I were just, I dunno, uni students, and we'd just become aquaintances like this, and this awful thing had happened to you, would you let us help you, would you let us be with you and see you through it? Or would you still be trying to kick us out of your life right now and deal with things on your own?"

Ned looked at her in the darkness of the truck's cab, eyes serious. "If the answer's the first, then let us stay, because we want to help you like normal friends would, yeah? We don't want to be famous celebrities unless we're actually being those guys, you know, onstage singing and playing the drum kit and that? Otherwise, we just want to be normal blokes, who wouldn't leave a friend to deal with such a horrible thing on her own, no matter how long we'd known her."

Chiara let out a long, hitching breath, nodding and sniffling, as she laid her head on Ned's shoulder.

Ned looked over at Drew over Chiara's head, lifting a quiet eyebrow as if to say "That's how you deal with people, you arse."

Drew just clutched the steering wheel extra tight and held his tongue, guiding the truck through the cold autumn night on their somber errand.

🌩🌙🌩🌙🌩🌙🌩🌙🌩🌙🌩

Chiara insisted that she wanted to go back home after all of the endless paperwork was finished at the morgue.

"But why?" Drew was incensed. "You shouldn't be alone! Just grab some things and come sleep at Langton. Hell, don't even grab anything, I've got shirts you can sleep in, for fuck's sake."

Chiara looked at him. "Your shirts wouldn't fit me, anyway, Andrew."

"Ned's, then, who gives a fuck? Don't go back there alone tonight, it's morbid, you can't do it."

"Would you please keep your voice down?"

This conversation took place in the tiled hallway of the morgue, where everything echoed, and people kept looking over toward their raised voices.

"Just don't go back to your place alone, then."

Again, Ned interrupted, putting a calming hand on Drew's shoulder. "If she wants to go back, just let her, mate, yeah?"

Chiara gave him a look of gratitude.

"But that's where her father--you know--"

"Where my father died, Drew, we all know, you can say it," Chiara said, her voice getting quavery.

"See? Look how upset she's getting." Drew was almost triumphant, turning to Ned. "She shouldn't be alone in that house, tonight of all nights."

"And could you please not talk about me like I'm not here?" Chiara nearly hissed. "Jesus, I can't deal with this right now, I just can't--"

"Come on," Ned said to Drew. "Let's just take her home, we'll talk about arrangements in the morning."

Drew bit his lips together, but finally nodded, and they drove to Langton, where they had another argument, this time about Chiara driving herself home.

"You're in no shape to drive yourself home," Drew began.

"What do you suggest, then? That you drive me home and then what? Walk back here yourself?"

Finally they decided that Ned would drive one of Drew's cars and follow the truck, then drive Drew and himself back to Langton. Chiara thought it was ridiculous, but decided to let it go, as she was exhausted and didn't want to argue anymore.

When they went into the Cavuto's little house, they saw that the crisps were still all over the floor.

Chiara took one look at them and burst into tears.

"Oh god, oh no, why didn't I stay with him?" she wailed.

Ned gestured to Drew to take her away, and looked around for a broom and dust pan. Drew nodded.

"Come on, shh, shh, we've got this, you're going to be okay," he soothed as he guided her down the hallway. He found her room and felt under her pillow for her pajamas. He handed them to her and waited outside until she was changed, then led her back to the cleaned up kitchen, where Ned had made tea for the three of them.

"Thanks, you guys," Chiara said as she sipped her tea. "I guess you were right. I don't know what I would've done if I'd come home to that alone."

"Nah, you would've dealt with it just fine," Ned assured her, patting her arm.

Drew looked at where Ned was touching her, and his eyes narrowed. Chiara didn't notice, but Ned, who knew Drew so much better than she did, saw immediately where his friend's eyes went, and withdrew his hand.

"Do you have family? Any people we can call for you?" Ned asked.

Chiara shook her head. "Both my parents were only children, and all my grandparents are dead," she informed them. "I'm all alone now." Her chin quivered for a few seconds, but she got it under control.

"I'll be okay," she said with a valiant attempt at a smile.

After a few more minutes, she rose. "I guess I'd better get to sleep. I have a lot to take care of tomorrow, you know?"

"You sure you don't want us to stay?" Drew asked. "One of us, at least?"

Chiara shook her head. "That would feel weird. I'm really comfortable here, no worries. I was born in this house, literally. It's my home. Go on." She hugged each boy. "And thank you. For everything. I'm sorry I yelled at you, Drew."

"Shut up," he returned with a laugh. "I'm used to it."

"Good night, boys."

"Good night, Chiara."