The tightness in her chest woke her up. She threw back the covers that'd completely covered her face during the course of the night. Blankly staring up at the ceiling, her mind numbly registered that it was morning. The smothering veil of clouds seemed to press down upon her; the suffocating stillness made the panicked gasps that escaped her mouth inevitable.

The sound woke up her husband who had been sleeping. He looked up at her blearily, trying to understand what was happening. His sleep addled brain was understandably slow.

"Wha... happened?" he asked, stifling a big yawn.

She didn't reply. She couldn't. Clasping her bent knees, she rocked back and forth, shuddering.

"Tress, what happened?" Des repeated, getting up to put his arm around her. He grasped her by the shoulder, bringing her to a stop. "Was it another nightmare? What was it about?"

Silence.

"Tress. Look at me. Look at me now," he commanded, pulling her face up. "What's wrong?" he whispered, his dark eyes looking into her tear filled ones.

But she couldn't tell him. How could she? How could she tell him that this time, the monster wasn't her mother, or Vil, or whoever killed Edda. This time, it was herself.

"I-I... I have... to get out of here," she managed to say between shuddering sobs.

Des frowned, worry etched in his expression. "We can't, Tress. We have to see this through."

"N-no. Just... for a little while. I... need to get out of this house."

"Okay. Where are we going?"

"N-no Des. I... wanna be alone. Please. I can't. I can't do this. Please. I've to go." She struggled out of his hold and grabbed her phone. Before he could say anything else, she ran down the stairs.

Des ran after her. "Tress! Wait! Where are you going?" He grabbed her hand, pulling her to a stop out on the porch.

"I don't know! I don't know! I just have to go. Please. Give me the keys. To the car. Please, Des," she said, trying to say the words before her throat closed up.

"Tress, are you sure-"

"Des. Please."

She held out her hand. Perhaps, he saw the desperation in her eyes. Perhaps he knew how close she was to completely breaking down. Without a word, he went into the house and fetched the key and dropped it in her waiting palm. Her hands clenched tightly around the cold metal. Barely holding herself together, she walked through the drizzle to the scarlet vehicle.

For once, it stuttered to a start on the first try. Revving it sharply, she drove out into the street as her husband stood out on the porch watching her, with his brows pulled together.

*

Tressi's mind barely registered where she was going. Her body worked on autopilot as her brain tried to make sense of the emotions. But she couldn't sort through them. Not immediately. For now, she had to concentrate on the road.

One thing at a time.

That was what had gotten her through her chaos filled life. That was how she'd survived so many things that would've broken a lesser person. That was how she endured.

One thing at a time.

And right now, that would be driving. She had to concentrate on driving. She didn't remember consciously deciding to go there, but as her eyes recognised the familiar winding road with trees that lined it's either side, she realised where she'd come.

The Lapec lake.

It was only fitting, she supposed. She circled the lake slowly, stopping at the point where the deck was closest. She got out of the car, holding the door frame for support. She couldn't see the deck from the road; a thicket of trees and shrubs blocked the view. But this was the place, she was sure. She walked through the trees, pushing the shrubs out of the way and when she finally saw the wooden deck, her breath stopped.

This was where Edda had posed for her portfolio six years ago. Had it really been six years? Tressi wondered. Sometimes, it seemed like it was only yesterday. She could see the wooden steps that led down to the lake.

She walked forward to sit down on the steps, dangling her feet in the water. She could feel Edda now. She was very close. She could see her leaning on the railing, posing cross-legged, being breathtakingly beautiful. Thinking about it made her heart twist painfully, but this wasn't the familiar pain of jealousy. This was regret. She closed her eyes, letting the sorrow wash over her.

I'm sorry. I'm sorry that I wasn't the sister you deserved. I'm sorry I let you die. I'm sorry for everything.

The gentle breeze ruffled her hair, just like how Edda used to ruffle it, on the many nights where they laid next to each other, just talking.

Her thoughts swirled in a chasm of regret and remembrance as her eyes took in the flock of ravens circling over the dark waters of the lake.

No, she hadn't been the sister she should've been. But breaking down now, wasn't going to fix anything. She couldn't let hopelessness consume her. She had to go on.

*

It took her half the time to get back to the house. Being down at the lake, it had filled her with a renewed sense of purpose. She was glad she hadn't wasted much time wallowing. Hardly forty-five minutes. Plenty of time to get home and think about the best course of action before they had to be at the party.

As she pulled up to the house, she felt a twinge of guilt about how she'd treated her husband. Des, as a rule, overanalysed everything she did. This would have worried him so much.

Would the guilt ever end? She wondered.

She walked into the house and removed her damp sweater. Throwing it on the couch, she turned around to see Edda's door ajar.

"Des?" she called out, walking into the room.

Her husband turned around, holding a pale, shimmery silver gown. But that didn't draw her attention, because her eyes were fixed on what he held in his other hand.

Edda's silver locket.