The funeral was held off for a week. The officials needed time to do an autopsy. The police's assumption all along was that Nicholas had suffered some natural, catastrophic internal event. Still, Dorothy started screaming murder the moment she saw her son's lifeless body to anyone that would listen. Her words didn't take long to get back to Emmeline, leaving her numb but not surprised after everything that had happened.

The result was final: brain aneurysm. But Dorothy never believed it. Even her husband couldn't convince her or prevent her from lashing out determined that even if Emmeline didn't take a gun and shoot him, she might as well have after all the stress she put him under. She worked him too hard. She ruined his life, destroyed his dreams. Emmeline killed him, her baby boy.

Emmeline tried to block Dorothy out the best she could, but the words echoed in her brain. She knew Dorothy's grief had completely unbalanced her, and yet Emmeline blamed herself too. Maybe she had pushed him too far? Still, she thought, Dorothy had been more erratic over the past year. With the death of her son, she was uncontrollable.

Emmeline dreaded going to the funeral, but there was no way she could avoid it, or even should. Besides, even though Millie was so young, she should be there. They made it until after the service at the funeral home before the cruelty began again.

"You killed him. Admit it," hissed Dorothy, yanking out a few more strands of hair. The coldness in her voice was unmissable as she stood in front of her son's coffin where Emmeline had placed loose Gerbera daisies on top of the closed half. They seemed out of place next to the elaborate professional bouquets of roses around them.

Emmeline couldn't even respond. She ran out of the funeral parlor, clutching Millie in her arms, with Ginny screaming in the background to defend her. Callum chased after Emmeline while her parents were left standing horrified, frozen in place amongst the deafening quiet of the rest of the funeral attendees.

Callum found Emmeline at the bottom of the church steps, retching and clutching her daughter. He took Millie into his arms as the little one sucked loudly on her fingers. Millie's black satin gown was wrinkled and covered in drool. As Callum sat on the church steps, he settled Millie on his lap, and she immediately tried to stick her fingers into his mouth. He pushed her hands away and put his arm around Emmeline. She cried into his shoulder.

"I wish I could bring him back," Callum said, his voice catching.

"I know, me too. I can hardly believe this is real."

"I know I can't replace him, but I'll do what I can. I promise I will always be there to help you two."

"Whatever you need, I'll be there. You won't even have to ask," he promised.

"Thank you," Emmeline said. "It means more to me than you'll ever know." Her words paled compared to what she was feeling at that moment. She felt like, perhaps for just a second, there would be life after this, that there was some hope out there. Most importantly, she felt she wouldn't have to do this all alone.

Ginny stormed out of the funeral parlor, and the four of them went back to the train. Emmeline put Millie down for a nap, and they spent the rest of the night talking. It was good to have friends. She didn't feel so alone, so helpless.

It was like just as soon as she figured her life out, the rug was pulled out from underneath her. Now she had so much to think about. She needed a job and to arrange daycare. She needed to leave the train; she knew she couldn't stay without him. That wasn't the arrangement. Besides, it was coming to the end of their allowed time there anyway. A sickening feeling overcame her—she might have to go back to her parent's house. Her life was like puzzle pieces scattered, and she had no idea how to make sense of them.

Emmeline was not much more than a zombie for the next week. She did what she had to do purely through instinct instead of thinking, unable to cope with everything that had fallen on her shoulders. Sensing something was off; Millie cried through the night and most of the day. It was hard to think. The only thing that kept running through her mind was, I have to get out of here. She was suffocating in the train. Nicholas was everywhere: his clothes, shoes, books, scent, and yet she was terrified to leave it in case she ran into Dorothy. Her phone rang off the hook with people telling her that they supported her and thought Dorothy was out of line. It helped, and yet she still didn't feel safe.

Stuck in the train, she mindlessly baked. It helped, although she could hardly eat anything, letting the cookies and loaves pile up. She simply felt better with warm with things in the oven. It kept her mind off her worries, at least for a few minutes.

Things changed when she got the life insurance cheque from Nicholas's work. She had forgotten it was part of his, figuring at the time they filled out the paperwork that it was a nice bonus, but not something that they'd ever use. It wasn't a lot in the grand scheme of things, ten grand, and yet it would be enough to start a new life with. When it came, she stared at the cheque for hours, wondering what to do. It was blood money. She hated it, and was relieved at the same time. It was his last chance to help them. She decided to use it to get away from Port Hope, where the memories tormented her.

It was the first thing that made sense since he died. Once the idea took hold, she couldn't stop herself even if she tried. She couldn't take it, not one more day. She called Callum to come over and take Nicholas's car back to his mother's house, and then Ginny to tell her what she was doing. Within ten minutes, Ginny was there protesting.

"Do really think this is a good idea?" she asked, taking things out of suitcases just as Emmeline was shoving them in.

"I don't know. I don't know anything anymore, except that I can't live here without him. I need to leave." She picked up one of Nicholas's shirts and smelled it, then hugged it close, swallowing the urge to fall apart again.

"You need a plan; you can't just leave here without a plan. Where will you go? You've can't just up and leave with Millie when you have no idea where you are going."

"I'll figure it out," Emmeline answered stubbornly, pulling out a plastic garbage bag and started to shove more stuff into it.

"Don't be so stupid! Give me an hour," Ginny said as Callum opened the door.

"Emmeline! What's going on?" he asked.

Ginny left, and Emmeline gave Callum the keys to Nicholas's car and told him to return it to his parents. She didn't want to be accused of stealing his car too!

The next hour was a flurry of activity: packing, figuring out what she could to take, tossing out the rest, and taking care of Millie's needs too. Ginny came back, flushed. "You need to stop."

"No, I told you, I can't stay here."

"No, stop what you're doing and sit down. I think I have a solution for you. I have an aunt who lives just outside Oakville. She's old. She has this grand old house, and she needs help. Seriously. Please! Right now my parents are making the two-hour drive every weekend. She has cancer and insists that everything is fine, but she doesn't even have anyone to take her to her doctor's appointments. You can go there, Millie can even have her own room, and my parents can regain their sanity. See, done."

Emmeline stared at her in disbelief. It didn't sound half bad. Ginny to the rescue again—how would she ever repay her for everything she had done over the past year?

"Ginny, you're amazing! That sounds just about perfect. I can't believe you arranged all that. Are you sure your aunt is okay with this?"

Ginny nodded. "Trust me. This will be a big help for her, and for my parents."

The idea suited Emmeline as it rolled around in her mind. She might not have gone if the offer was just out of pity, but if she was needed, then perhaps it would be okay.

It dawned on Emmeline for the first time: she was leaving. "I'm going to miss you so much!"

That was it. She had a plan, a place to go where they could start fresh. Ginny handed her a piece of paper with the address and phone number.

Callum opened the door, and they heard the whistle of the five o'clock train speed by.

"I'm not going to miss that," said Emmeline, feeling more resolved in her decision.

Callum returned the keys to her, and Emmeline was confused.

"They didn't want it," he explained. "Dorothy was sleeping, and Nicky's dad just signed the ownership and handed it back. He said it was the least he could do. I gotta tell you, I think he feels pretty bad about the whole situation."

Fresh tears popped out, and Emmeline quickly wiped them away. She had done enough crying. She graciously accepted the keys back—at least it was something. Besides, she needed the car. It would make her life a lot easier. She looked around the place she had called home and realized she was nearly packed. They didn't have much to pack anyway, and she decided it would be best to leave in the morning--fresh start, new life.

"Well, what do you think, kid? Do you think you will like Oakville?" Emmeline said to Millie. She was happily eating Cheerios in her high chair, taking two or three attempts to pick up just one, then going back for the next.

"Come back, promise me," Ginny said wistfully.

"I don't know if I'll ever be able to come back. There's so much here—Nicholas, his family. I don't know if I can deal with them again. But you come all the time, please! I am not leaving you guys."

Ginny and Callum nodded. She was sure there was no way she could keep them visiting.

"You know, no one agrees with Dorothy," Callum said.

"I know. So many people have called to tell me that. I am beyond grateful. It's just too much right now."

"Don't forget it, though. People are impressed with how you've handled the whole situation. You finished high school before any of the rest of us!"

Emmeline blushed a little. She had worked straight through her assignments and finished the last one a few days after Nicholas had died. She wouldn't get the fancy graduation or even graduate from the private school she loved with her friends. However, she did finish, which made her ready to face the next step. Perhaps Oakville was the answer. She could get a job, take care of Ginny's aunt, have a nice place to raise Millie. Get on her feet. It was as good a situation as she could imagine, and she thought it was much better than she deserved.

"I hate to ask, but I can't deal with more fighting right now—can you tell everyone for me?"

"They'll try to stop you, won't they?" asked Ginny, who meant it more as a rhetorical question.

"My parents have been bugging me to move back home since I left. But I can't. They take over and make me second-guess myself. Millie needs me to be strong. They can't argue as much if they don't find out until I'm already there. I'll call them as soon as I'm settled."

Ginny nodded.

Callum filled the car and put the rest of the stuff she didn't want in his truck. He had volunteered to drive behind them with the trailer his parents used to haul things to their antique shop downtown, but Emmeline decided she would take what she and Millie needed. She didn't want to overwhelm Ginny's aunt with too much stuff. He agreed but made her promise that if she needed anything when she got there, she would ask. His parents had tons of stuff tucked away for the shop that they wouldn't mind donating to her. They felt Nicholas's absence, too, and were willing to do almost anything for Emmeline at that moment. He was like a second kid to them. Really, the entire community felt it, and they had done their best to rally around Emmeline and Millie—dropping off food, and donating money anonymously. It was touching to see everything they were trying to do for her, and part of Emmeline felt like she was betraying the town by leaving. She hoped they would understand.

The night flew by, and Callum and Ginny called it quits, saying they would return to see her off in the morning. It was just as well. Emmeline was exhausted, but try as she may, she spent a fitful last night in their tiny bed, and was relieved when the sun started to glow pink over the horizon.

The air was frosty the next morning. Emmeline was grateful they had done most of the work the night before. She looked at Millie, happily playing away in her high chair with no idea how much her life would change in a few hours. Emmeline was slightly jealous for a moment. The idea of understanding nothing of what had happened in the past few weeks seemed like a blissful gift. She was proud of her kid—she looked so much like Nicholas. She was a beautiful reminder of the good he left in the world. She was smart like him, too, only eight months old and already starting to talk.

A moment later, there was a knock on the door, and she opened it to a crew of about thirty people standing outside the train museum—even her parents. Emmeline threw a what-the-crap-did-you-do look Ginny's way, who just grinned back.

"I get it," Emmeline's mom said, approaching her. "I don't like it, but I get it." She hugged Emmeline in a stiff, everyone-is-watching kind of way.

Emmeline was touched that people came to see her off, and although she hoped for more from her mother, it didn't surprise her. However, the hugs and well wishes from everyone else and people who went out of their way to see them off made her almost wish she was staying.

Ginny came up alongside her and said, "I know you wanted to sneak off, but I figured this was better."

The crowd said their goodbyes and watched Emmeline and Millie enter the car and drive off.

"Well, Millie," Emmeline said as they settled themselves on the road. "Are you ready for this?"

"Da-dee!" said Millie.