There was a vase in the middle of the kitchen table that was filled with flowers my mom bought from the store. It was meant to brighten up the room, add a little life, and for everyone else, it did. But all I could see was an urn. Two urns, actually, sitting side by side. One for Emily. And one for Valarie.

I went to their funeral. My parents didn't know if it would be the best idea, but it was something I had to do. Valarie had given up her life to save us. I couldn't not go. Coden and Rosalie went, too, and we all sat together in the back, away from all of the grieving family members. I felt like an outsider for the most part, but I didn't regret attending. I would've hated myself if I hadn't.

"Open this one next!"

I blinked and suddenly the vase was a vase again, and I looked up to find a small package being waggled in front of my face. I accepted the package from Maddi's hand and tugged the card off the wrapping. "Aw, thanks, Remy," I said after reading the corny message inside. After setting the card on the table, I unwrapped the actual present—an action film.

My smile was a little more forced now, because I had to pretend that the gun shots in the film wouldn't remind me of Dan shooting Valarie, Coden, and some of the others from that night. It wasn't her fault. She didn't know about what I'd went through, not really. She heard what happened on the news, but I didn't give her the gritty details. Not even my family or Maddi knew that much about what happened. I couldn't talk about it. I just couldn't. Not with them.

"Thank you," I said, placing the movie and card next to the other presents I'd already opened and dropping the wrapping paper into the trashcan Skylar so thoughtfully set beside me.

"That's the one we saw in theaters, right?" she asked. "I totally spaced on the title, and then...ugh. I just hope it's the right one."

"It is." I smiled again.

"Oooh, this one's from Coden," Maddi cooed, plopping a small bag in front of me.

I glanced over at Coden, who was sitting in the chair beside me, and grinned. He returned my smile with one of his own. "I wonder what this could be," I teased, taking the bag in my hands and prying it open.

"No idea," Coden replied.

I pulled nail polish from the bag and gasped. "No. How could you have possibly known this was my favorite?"

"I would say intuition, but it was probably the text you sent me when I was at the store."

I laughed.

After that, I finished opening the rest of the presents rather quickly, only having to force one or two more smiles when I found that a couple of my friends also bought me action movies. I used to be an action movie junkie. The more kickass fighters, the better. Now...I didn't think I'd be able to watch any.

A couple days after returning home, I put in Mr. and Mrs. Smith, because I was feeling nostalgic for one of my favorite childhood action flicks. But as soon as there was gun fire, I knew I wouldn't be able to make it through the whole movie. Because, in that moment, all I could hear was my high-pitched screech as Dan fired his gun and Valarie fell. All I could feel was the horror of seeing her dead on the floor.

I stuck to rom-coms after that.

○

"Time for cake!" my mom announced.

I cheered along with everyone else, twisting around in my seat to watch as my mom placed the candles on the cake Skylar was holding in his hands. When they stepped closer and I saw the state of the frosting, I immediately knew that Skylar and Tommy were the ones who'd done the decorating. My brothers weren't the best when it came to decorating cakes, so their "Happy 18th Birthday Serenity" looked more like a blob of frosting than anything else. Not that I minded. I honestly wouldn't have had it any other way.

"Real artists you are," Angie said sarcastically as the cake was placed in front of me. "Seriously, you should both go to art school."

"My school does have a great fine arts program," Skylar mused. "Do you think I should switch from a biology major?"

"No," a bunch of people said in unison.

"Well," Skylar drawled, dropping into one of the metal chairs we'd dragged up from the basement, "I guess that settles it then. Fine arts it is."

I laughed along with the others while my dad lit the candles. The laughter died out, and then suddenly everyone was singing the happy birthday song, and I shifted uncomfortably, not quite sure what to do with myself for the thirty or so seconds the song lasted.

"Okay, birthday girl gets to pick which slice she wants," my dad said, patting my shoulder affectionately before gesturing to the cake. "Which one would you like?"

"The middle," I said. It's where the big blob of frosting was congregated, and I loved frosting.

"Why am I not surprised?" Skylar asked.

I scrunched my nose at him. "Ha-ha."

"Okay then!"

My dad grabbed a knife before returning to the table and starting to cut the cake into individual pieces. I shifted closer to Coden to give my dad more room and turned my head, unable to watch. I had a huge aversion to knives nowadays, even butter knives. Just looking at them reminded me of the other things they could be used for. Cutting, cutting, cutting.

I blinked the thoughts away. No. I refused to think about this today. Today was a day of celebration. I was alive. Samantha was in jail. It was my birthday.

My eyes landed on Coden, and he gave me a sympathetic smile, like he knew exactly what I was going through. It didn't escape my knowledge that he was avoiding looking at the knife, too. I smiled back.

"Okay, honey, here you go."

I looked down at the plate that was now in front of me, which had the exact slice of cake I wanted. "Thanks, Dad," I said, grinning.

"Anything for you." My dad grinned back.

I grabbed a plastic fork from the box in the middle of the table and took a bite of the cake. Vanilla—my favorite.

"How's the cake?" Coden asked.

"Delicious," I replied. "You should try it."

As though my words summoned it, my mom set a piece of cake in front of Coden with a soft, "Here you go, hon."

"Thank you," Coden murmured to my mom.

"No problem."

My mom left, and Coden returned his attention to me. "Could you pass me a fork?" he asked.

I nodded and grabbed a fork and, after a moment's thought, a spoon. They were going to serve ice cream once all of the pieces of cake were distributed, so might as well give him both. "Here you go," I said, handing him the plastic ware.

"Thanks." Coden smiled and accepted the fork and spoon from my hand. And then he took a big bite from the cake. "Delicious," he agreed after swallowing.

"I told you."

Coden downed a second bite of cake. "Yes, you did."

○

By four o'clock, everyone except for Coden was gone. He would be gone soon, too, but for now we were sitting on the front porch and staring out at my yard, enjoying the cool breeze and evening sunlight.

"You're not going to watch them, are you?" Coden asked.

I glanced over at him, eyebrows raised. "What do you mean?"

"The movies your friends got you."

I folded my lips together before answering. "Was I that obvious?"

"No," Coden assured me, shaking his head. "I'm pretty sure I'm the only one who noticed."

I rested my head against the porch and let out a sigh. How was it that someone I'd known for such a short period of time could figure me out so easily? "No, I won't be watching them," I admitted. "It's not that I don't want to, it's just—"

"The gun shots," Coden finished for me. "I have the same problem."

"You do?"

Coden nodded. "Yeah. And with knives. And sometimes scissors, though not as much."

I nodded back. I had the same issue with scissors, except it was more often than not. Whenever I picked them up to cut something, I immediately wielded them like I did in the warehouse, like my hand still believed I was in danger. And then, if I wasn't fast enough, I would remember plunging the scissors into Al's neck.

"How long do you think it will last?" I asked.

"I don't know," Coden said softly.

We fell silent after that, watching as the kids across the street played a game of touch football. The scene blurred almost immediately, and I found myself lost in my own head. How was Rosalie, I wondered? What couldn't she look at without being brought back to that awful night? What movies couldn't she watch? Did she have nightmares, too? God, I hoped not. They were the worst.

I would have invited her, too, but Ms. Parker thought it would be best to keep our distance, as Coden and I were reminders of what happened that night. I couldn't blame her. If I were Rosalie's mom, I wouldn't want to take the chance of worsening the situation either.

My thoughts about Rosalie were disrupted when Coden took one of my hands in his own. I looked down and then to the left, meeting Coden's gaze as he sent me a small smile. "We made it," he said.

His words echoed through my head. We made it. It seemed like forever ago and yet just like yesterday when I said those exact words to Coden in the hospital room. Of course, back then I didn't realize what "we made it" truly meant. We'd survived, yes. But the warehouse was still a part of us. And maybe it always would be.

But we were here, alive and well on my porch instead of six feet under ground, which was where we very well could have been if the circumstances were even just the tiniest bit different. And, for that, we were pretty damn lucky.

I smiled back. "We did," I said.