Page 74 of Nineteen Eighty

With Augustus, she realized, as her eyes fell on her second son. She’d always seen him as the darkness to Charles’ light, but only lately realized she’d mistaken darkness for the shadows of others brighter than him. Had she done right, pairing him with the Chandler girl? Yes, she thought, she had. Ana looked up at her father and stepmother, curious, each of her hands clutched in one of each of theirs.

Colleen held Ashley, while Noah held tight to Amelia and Ben. Colleen cried as she traced her fingers over Maddy’s etched name. Noah held fast to her side, her silent, stalwart strength.

Evangeline stood off in the corner, pressed against the picket fence that was supposed to make visitors feel welcome. Johannes was behind her, and she leaned into him with a pensive look toward the tomb.

Maureen was on her knees at the base of it, Edouard standing protectively behind her as she sobbed. He held Alain tight to his breast, while Olivia knelt by her mother, catching the contagion of her sorrow.

And Lizzy.

She sat upon one of the benches, watching them all in silence, Connor bowed over at her side.

“I was going to bring some music,” she said, cutting a strange tear in the calm. “Maddy, if nothing else, had pretty boss taste in tunes.”

Small ripples of laughter tittered through the family, interlaced with sniffles and sighs.

“And then I thought about making a speech, but she didn’t really have much time for words, did she? She was all about action.”

Augustus pulled a hand to his mouth, trapping a sob there. Barbara ran a hand down his back.

“Maddy wanted to save the world. Instead, in her own way, she saved all of us.” Elizabeth raised an invisible glass, eyes traveling across the huddle of everyone who mattered. “For Maddy.”

Amidst sniffles and soft sobs, everyone else slowly raised their own arms into the air.

“For Maddy,” they repeated, out of unison, the words bouncing around and through them as they each found their voices.

“For Maddy,” Irish Colleen called, louder than them all. Louder than the pain, louder than the joy. Louder than the memories. Louder than her faults. “For The Seven.”