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'IT SEEMS LIKE ONCE AGAIN YOU'VE HAD TO GREET ME WITH GOODBYE'
The front door of Will Graham's house opened a little late, as if Alana, inside, had needed to gather enough courage before turning the handle. Inside, chaos from the dogs: paws, whines, tails thumping against the walls. Winston was immediately recognized by the pack and surrounded like a long-lost brother.
Sloane didn't move. She stayed on the threshold, stiff with her coat still on, hands clenched around the leash until her knuckles turned white.
Alana offered a half-smile, uncertain. "I'll bring him back to Will. It'll be nice to see them together again."
"I'm not here for Will," Sloane's voice sounded flat. She hadn't even tried to seem polite. "I'm here for the dog."
Alana sighed, petting Winston as he rubbed against her legs. "Will would be happy to see you. To see that..." she searched for the words. "That you still care about something."
Sloane's eyes stayed fixed on Winston, deliberately avoiding everything else. "Don't get me wrong. I care about the dogs."
A tense silence fell between them, full of things left unsaid. The smell of wood, fur, and the warmth of a house that once had truly been one.
"Sloane..." Alana tried again, more gently. "Will... didn't do all this to hurt you. He was in a situation—"
"I know exactly why he did it," Sloane finally shifted her gaze to her: steady and hostile. "He tried to kill the man I love. He tried to take everything from me. I don't expect you to understand. But I don't intend to forgive him."
Alana bit her lip. "He thought he was saving you."
"It was never his job to save me," Sloane slipped out of the leash, handing it to Alana like a dismissal. "And if he really cared about me... he wouldn't have tried to make me cry over his grave."
Winston whimpered softly, sensing the tension. Sloane bent down for one last stroke: quick, like a goodbye she wanted to avoid feeling.
Then she looked up. "Tell him he doesn't have to try to reach me."
Alana stepped forward, her voice filled with sincere concern: "You really want to end it like this? He'll carry that guilt until it eats him alive."
"Maybe that's what he deserves," Sloane straightened, adjusting her coat on her shoulders like armor. "Besides, Will Graham lives well with remorse. It's the only feeling that keeps him company."
She stepped back, out through the door. The cold air hit her face, but didn't make a mark. "See you, Alana."
Sloane walked out; she was halfway between the house and her car when the sound of an engine cut through the silence. A car far too familiar turned into the gravel drive.
