"Which would be worse - to live as a monster, or to die as a good man?" - Teddy Daniels, Shutter Island

ALSO THIS IS THE LAST CHAPTER! the epilogue will hopefully be posted within the next two weeks :-)))

While Griffin was at the courthouse testifying, I was sitting in my guidance counselor's office.

It was something I had been thinking over for awhile but never fully decided on. The second Griffin called me to say that he was heading down to the courthouse, I finally made my decision. I needed to get away, and his words had just solidified that fact. As I sat in my parent's living room and flipped through the TV stations, half of them playing the Cutkosky story, I decided I needed to leave.

Jon Gikas, my guidance counselor, looked at me, the same hint of pity on his face as when I first walked into his office, "All right, we'll deal with the dorm situation first. Normally at this far in the year it would be impossible to get a dorm, but because of your, er, situation, we should be able to make an exception."

I shot him a grateful look and slouched down further in my seat, fingers gripping the edge of the chair. I had decided to move into campus dorms - something I had never really planned on doing but decided would be best for me. If I was living on campus then I could throw myself into my studies, and not worry about the story that each news station would be telling that night. If I was living on campus then I wouldn't have to worry about accidentally running into Griffin.

"We actually have a girl who transferred off campus, which leaves an open dorm," Jon said, shooting me what couldn't have been a more obviously forced grin, "Filling out the paperwork won't be a problem, so don't worry about that. Changing your major however is a little different."

As much as I loved psychology, I had also made one other major decision: to change my major.

My perspective had changed on a lot of things, and I realized that I didn't want to be a psychologist. I wanted to help a certain type of people, and that made me realize that I wanted to be a trauma counselor. I wanted to help people like Griffin and Grant, who went through devastating tragedies and didn't have anyone to help them. I wanted to be the person to help them before their tragedy took them over.

And when I looked into Griffin's eyes the night had told me about Grant's decision, I knew it was what I wanted to do. I wanted to get to kids like Griffin before their tragedies took over their lives; I wanted to help them through it, not watch them fight against the current.

Jon pulled his laptop in front of him, green eyes scanning the page before turning back to me, "You'll still be taking psychology, just as a minor. You'll switch to counseling for your major and you'll take the classes to pursue trauma counseling. Before we do this, I want to talk about it, okay? Trauma counseling is hard to get into."

I nodded, already knowing that nothing Jon said could change my mind, "I know," I admitted, tapping the edge of the chair, "Undergraduate bachelor's degree and then graduate school, right?"

"Right," Jon agreed, eyebrows knitting together, lips pursing out slightly. He exhaled deeply and sighed, clasping his hands together, "I've been your counselor for awhile, so I want you to think about this. You've just gone through your own trauma, Emmy, and you don't want to make any rash decisions."

That was one thing Jon didn't understand.

I had been thinking everything through so carefully these pasts few months, whether it was about school or the Cutkosky case. I had been myself second for the past few months, focusing on a case that turned out to be more sick and twisted than I ever could've expected. It was my turn to make a rash decision. My turn to do something that would be good for me.

"I know, but this is right for me," I told him, a small smile slipping onto my face when he pulled out the paperwork for my major transfer, "I've been putting things into perspective and this is good. I know it is."

Jon smiled and pushed the paper across the table, telling me what to write and where, "You'll make a great trauma counselor."

I smiled wryly, eyes locked on my paper, "Maybe I'll be able to help myself."

Jon opened his mouth to say something, and I quickly signed my name on the last line and slid the paper across to him, standing up and grabbing my purse. I slid my jacket on and took a deep breath, looking down at the papers on his desk. In a matter of forty minutes, I had signed the papers to move into campus dorms and switch my majors. Closing my eyes for a brief moment, I reminded myself that this was good. It was for me.

I deserved to do something for myself.

Jon stood up and held out his hand and I leaned forward, shaking it and thanking him for helping me. Jon just smiled and told me to take care - something I heard too much recently from Cara - and turned, slipping out the door and stepping into the hallway. I barely got to shut the door behind me when my phone started buzzing in my pocket.

I took a few steps down the hallway and pulled my phone out, accepting the call without checking who it was from. I didn't need to, though, because Griffin's voice greeted me on the other end, a million words spilling out of his mouth in seconds.

"Griffin," I said, cutting him off. He took a deep breath on the other side and I paused, leaning against the wall, "Slower, okay? Talk slower, I can't understand you."

In a raspy voice, Griffin mumbled out, "Can we meet up? I just got done testifying and I'm going to go fucking crazy if I have to go back to my apartment and stare at the walls for the next couple of hours."

I didn't hesitate to say yes. Griffin and I quickly picked a place to meet up and I shoved my phone back in my pocket, swapping it out for my keys as I made my way out to the parking lot. I had moved to dorms to get away from my life for a bit, and I wasn't sure how often I would be seeing Griffin. I owed it to him to see him now.

-

Forty-five minutes later and Griffin and I were sitting across from each other, full plates on the table.

Neither of us said much, but I knew we both had a lot sitting on the tip of our tongue. I wanted to tell Griffin about me changing my major and moving onto campus, and he had to talk about testifying. I was almost scared to hear what he had to say; Griffin had just testified to his brother and father killing his mom. I couldn't imagine what was going through his mind.

Griffin leaned back in his seat and rolled up the sleeves of his white shirt, pulling his black tie loose around his neck. Griffin looked good - professional, in a button-up shirt, tie, and gelled hair - but it was clear to see how he felt. There were dark bags under his puffy red eyes, and he kept swallowing tightly, Adams apple bobbing in his throat. He was drumming his fingers on the table and I leaned forward, grabbing one of his hands and squeezing gently.

"Grant's going to a mental asylum," Griffin said finally, eyes locked on a spot directly next to my head, "He pleaded insanity and somehow it worked. And you know what, Emmy? I fucking hate him for it. I hate him. Instead of sitting and rotting in jail, he'll be sitting in a hospital for the criminally insane and it's not fair. He doesn't deserve that. He deserves worse than jail."

I hated hearing Griffin say that, but part of me understood where he was coming from. We both knew that Grant was suffering from a serious mental illness, but I couldn't imagine how Griffin felt to hear that his brother would be spending the rest of his life in an asylum for the criminally insane. I wanted to say that Grant was going to be punished - his life was gone - but would anything truly be punishment enough to Griffin for what his brother had done?

"My dad will be on death row, but I was warned that it'll be years before he's dead," Griffin continued, eyes finally landing on me. There was a fire in them, an intensity that terrified me, "He was charged as an accomplice to murder, obstruction of justice, hiding a murder weapon and so much more. If I ever want to see my dad again, it'll be through four inches of plexi glass as he wears a prison jumpsuit."

It was one thing to hear about families being torn apart on TV or to watch a movie on it, but it was so much different to watch it happen in front of me. Griffin's family had been torn apart - if he ever wanted to see his dad or brother, he would have to go to prison or a criminal insane asylum. Griffin had lost the only other two pieces of family he had, and, no matter what they had done, how could anyone live with no family?

He was alone, and I knew that thought must have been terrifying for him. No matter what, I liked to think that no one was ever truly alone. We'd all have a friend or a teacher or a family member that we could run to, but Griffin didn't have that. As far as I knew he had no friends, no job anymore, and now, no family. He had lost everything. Griffin was alone.

"I'm so sorry," I said quietly, stabbing a piece of lettuce that had slipped out of my wrap and twirling it on my fork, avoiding Griffin's eyes, "I don't know what to say. I'm just - I'm sorry."

"You know, for a second I wanted the prosecution or defense to turn around and say that I was somehow involved. Say that I did something - anything, I didn't care, Emmy. Because you know what? If I had done something, then at least I'd be with my dad or Grant. Do you know how fucking sad it is o wish I had helped kill my mom so I wouldn't lose my family?"

I had shivers at his words, and I dropped my fork, letting it clatter against my plate. How the fuck was I supposed to respond to that? Respond to Griffin saying that it would be easier if he had helped them murder his mom? It was such a twisted situation, and I just didn't have the words to say anything to make it any better.

"I'm moving on campus," I blurted out, cheeks heating up the second I said it. It was such an irrelevant, selfish thing to say and I wanted to take it back immediately, "I'm sorry, I don't know why I said that - "

Griffin didn't even bat an eyelash. Instead, he nodded, a tight smile taking place on his face, "I don't blame you," he said finally, "I'd want to leave too if I were you."

"It's not that I want to leave," I said quickly, because, truthfully, that wasn't it. I didn't want to leave Griffin just because, "I just can't handle it, you know? It's everywhere. I drive past our apartment complex and it's all I see. I switch through news stations and it's all anyone wants to talk about. If I'm on campus - if I'm away from everything... I think it'll be good for me. You could use that too, you know."

Griffin's face dropped, lips drawing down into a frown, "Emmy, it's my life. I can't really just leave it."

"I didn't mean it like that," I responded, but I felt like I was only digging myself into a deeper hole. I meant that Griffin could use some time away, but only now I realized how ridiculous the suggestion sounded, "It's just a lot for you to deal with alone."

And then Griffin smiled and I was reminded why I felt so strongly to him. He had that crooked smile on his face, blue eyes locked on mine, his face completely open, vulnerable. Griffin was so strong and honest, and he could sit at that diner and promise me that things would be okay when he was the one who would live it every day. He was so selfless.

"I think being alone is gonna be good for me," he said finally, pushing his plate of food to the side and clasping his fingers together. Griffin lowered his head lightly and looked back up at me, "I was surrounded by two people who lied to me about everything. Being alone for a little bit doesn't sound too bad to me."

For some reason, my heart picked up at that and I quickly added, "I'll still be here, though. Just a drive or call away."

Something in Griffin changed in that second - it was so easy to tell. He shifted uncomfortably, jaw locking lightly, fingers tapping on his knuckles. Griffin blinked, gaze sliding from me to the table, eyebrows furrowing as they always did when he thought something over. In that moment, I knew that I wasn't the only one who had made tough decisions that day.

"Tell me one thing, okay?" Griffin asked, voice surprisingly soft, eyes back to being locked on mine, "Am I part of the reason you're moving to campus? Be honest, please. I remind you of Grant, right? The situation? All of it, right?"

I wanted to lie. So badly. I wanted to tell Griffin that he didn't remind me of Grant or the situation, but I couldn't lie to him. I couldn't lie to someone who had been lied to his entire life.

"I'm sorry."

Griffin's lips twitched up into a genuine smile, "Don't be," he said, and I tried to smile back at him, but I couldn't. I knew where this conversation was going and I couldn't smile, "You mean so much to me, Emmy. Honestly. I want you in my life every day, but we need - we need to take time apart. I need to get over this on my own and so do you, and seeing each other every day isn't going to do us any favors."

He was right. If I saw Griffin every day, then I would never have the separation I needed to get over this entire situation. Everything he said was right, but that didn't change the fact that it was horrible to hear. I wanted to get over this situation, but I didn't want Griffin to step out of my life for an indefinite amount of time.

But he had to. We each had to do what was best for ourselves, because our lives had just been torn from us, ripped apart, and then handed back. We each deserved to get over this situation, and, if that meant not seeing Griffin every day, then I had to accept it. I was doing what was best for me, and he was doing the same for him.

It didn't mean I liked it.

"Not forever," Griffin said, leaning across the table to grab my hand, squeezing it lightly. He stood up and tugged on my hand, pulling me out of my booth and into his arms instead, "I just - I need to get over this, and I need to be alone for a little bit. But I'm not gonna let you go that easy, Emmy. I promise you that."

I looked up at him, "We'll get over this."

Griffin bent down, pressing his lips so gently against my forehead I barely felt them, "And we'll get back to each other. I promise."

OKAY I promise the epilogue will answer any questions you have left, but this sums mostly everything up anyway! before you guys get mad at griffin and emmy for their decisions, try to look at it through their eyes! they both just want to get through the tragedy that occurred, so remember that :)

thank you for all your constant support, I love you all!