The Crescent

Epilogue

Will hadn't any idea what the light at the end of tunnel might be. As he stepped into it, he found the moon, only a sliver, lovely and bright, nonetheless. In the infinite night he spied the spoon of the big dipper, his four stars, and hurried to them.

Two of the stars burned brighter and brighter until they were Will's parents, as whole and real as they'd ever been. His mother's cheeks and dress dogwood pink, his father's nose bony and glasses crooked. They smiled, and their arms welcomed him home. And this time, when Will took their hands, there was no wave of despair to crash over him.

The third star glimmered, and Winston stepped forward, a deep regret pooled into his eyes. Will knew why. To his final breath Winston believed Will's death could have been prevented if only he hadn't encouraged him to go to Baker's hospital. Will's first friend, his best friend, his confidant. In one sweep, he abolished Winston's guilt and punched his shoulder good naturedly, the way they once rough-housed as children. Winston was all freckles and grin.

Finally, Will's fourth star burned bright. Charlie stepped forward. Will took in his ink-blue eyes.

He embraced him.

When they broke away their hands remained interlocked. The crescent moon before them glowed brighter, laid down, and wound into a path with no destination in sight. They stepped onto the path, the possibilities limitless.