Dunstan closed his eyes and shook his head slowly. “I… I left?” he asked uncertainly. Did I? he asked himself. Did I really?

As though sensing his thoughts, Hannah prompted him, “I’m sure that by that point, the magnitude of what had just occurred had finally sunk into your mind, hadn’t it? You realized that you’d just shot your wife and best friend, and you’d contemplated murdering your daughter. You knew that even if you could afford the best lawyer in the world, no jury would let you walk free…”


Dunstan looked up at Hannah, his eyes slowly widening. “Yeah, yeah, that’s what happened,” he murmured. “I walked around inside the house, thinking about what I’d done. I considered making it look like a break-in, then realized even then, it would be obvious I was responsible. So, I sat in the backyard and weighed all of my options. I realized that I wouldn’t survive prison and that I’d most likely get the death penalty. And as I sat there, thinking over everything I’d done in my miserable life, I realized something: I deserved to die. I had been a terrible person who’d hurt more people than anyone should ever get away with. I remember… I slowly picked up the gun, which I had on my lap while I was thinking. And just like I’d done to my daughter, I pressed the gun against my temple. I could feel the cold metal warming slowly from my skin. And… and I don’t remember what happened next…”


Hannah spoke up, “I can fill in the gaps. The very first shot, when you shot Eli, got the attention of one of your neighbors, who called the cops. After the cops showed up and found out what happened, I was called to identify Eli’s body. I had been living with him for the past two years, to save money while attending college, and apparently, according to his cell phone, I was the last person he’d called. So, I came in, identified the body, all that jazz. By the time I left, it had been raining a while. The roads were slippery, and I tried to take a turn a little too sharply… and I hit a tree.” Hannah took a deep breath. “Dunstan, don’t you realize it now? We’re the other two people who are dead because of you. You shot yourself, and because of your actions, I was indirectly affected and ended up dying, rather than staying home and off the road.”


“So… we’re dead?” Dunstan said slowly, trying to process this. “Is this heaven or hell, then?”

A terrible, frightening look (“Angela-like,” Dunstan would have called it) crossed Hannah’s face. “Well, that is rather subjective," she responded.

“How so?”

“For you, spending all of eternity being reminded of all the horrible things you did while living… I’d call that hell. For me, getting to torture the jerk who killed my favorite relative? Oh, yeah, that’s heaven.”


Mona rose to her feet and looked silently down at the tombstones. Her grandmother, Edna, put an arm around her.

“Sweetie, I don’t wish to speak unkindly of the dead…” Edna began.

Mona shrugged. “I don’t mind. Dad was a jerk, and Mom…”

“Well, I did try to tell your mother that he was worthless. Piece of advice, Mona, don’t ever marry someone like your father. I know people say girls marry men like their fathers, but in your case…”

“Yeah, I know. Don’t worry, I won’t. Besides, I’m more into brainy guys. Intelligence, now that’s hot.”