An ocean as dark and restless as the mind of a suicide fretted at the shoreline, throwing itself onto the rocks in a flurry of grey spume. Silhouetted on the hill above, two figures emerged from the lengthening shadows and stood gazing out over the fitful Atlantic.

This place reverberated with the wails of the Widows, multiplied countless times down through the centuries. But looking at the man standing beside her, Victoria felt only a timeless sense of release -- and, finally, peace.

Feeling her gaze upon him, Burke turned. "There's no need for us to be here, if it disturbs you."

But her mind was focused on other thoughts -- remembering the phone call, the terrible news that they had found his plane. And his body. Remembered pain flickered in her dark eyes. "I couldn't live without you," she said, her gaze drawn reluctantly back to the foaming surf. "I just couldn't..."

The disturbing shape was almost lost among the jagged rocks. Hungry waves had already licked away the fresh red stains, leaving only a faint smear of white against the darkness.

"Promise you'll never leave me," she said, turning away from the sight. It had no meaning for her, now.

Burke drew her close. "I do promise, Vicki. I'm not going anywhere."

Glancing at the lowering clouds, he added, "It's going to rain, soon. Maybe we should be getting back..."

As if on cue, lightning split the clouds, releasing the first cold drops of rain. They fell like tears on Vicki's upturned face. Gently, he kissed them away.

"I know I hurt you," he said softly. "But I have all eternity to make it up to you."

Hand in hand, they ran toward the distant house, two more of Collinwood's phantoms.

Home at last.

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