Several hours after the confrontation with Rose, the last guest meandered out the front door, leaving Regina and Renee standing alone in the living room.

Regina lay her head on her sister's shoulder, shifting weight off one sore leg and onto another. “I’d like to pretend it's over now.” She sighed and closed her eyes, taking in the small, brief comfort of silence.

The shoulder she leaned on pushed her upwards, and she stood back up. Perhaps even brief had been an overestimation.

Renee lifted an eyebrow as she made eye contact, letting it drop just before she spoke. “Technically, it is… *, for now,*” A smirk crawled across her face, humor trying its best to hide under her semi-serious tone. “I’ll be there tomorrow.”

“Hm?”

“To help you…” she hesitated for a moment, then waved her arms around. It was a chaotic motion. The gesture pointed at the house, but the words had nothing to do with the building. “Finish this thing. Besides, even though they can’t do it themselves, you know they’ll be there watching.”

“Tomorrow.” Regina turned, looking around at the disaster. Can we do this tomorrow too?”

Her sister laughed, mirth only halfway filling the sound. “You running so quickly?”

“Home sounds better. It's late. It's dark. I’m exhausted. My bed here is a twin…”

The laughter came again. “Tonight. We’ll be quick enough. We know where everything goes, at least.”

Regina frowned. Her legs ached, and her thoughts were sluggish. She wasn’t sure she would fall asleep later so much as just turn off for a few hours. While one had barked at her at for ‘manners’, it seemed everyone else had forgotten theirs. They had cups, plates, napkins, and other confusing trash on every available surface of the home.

Raging frat parties left messes like this… not a wake composed of grown-ass-adults. She shook her head, knowing she was giving the mess too much credit, and far too much space in her head. It may not take that long to clean up, but she was frustrated. She was also too weary to fight it. “I'm not happy about it.”

“Well, just twitch your nose and make it clean itself then.” Renee squished her face in her favorite Bewitched impression.

There was no arguing with it. There never had been — whenever she had tried she had felt like a jerk ruining a childish moment and lost to boot. Regina didn’t have it in her to fight, to be a jerk to her sister, or to lose anything else in her tiny, tiny world.

She lifted one foot dramatically, and leaned her weight forward, stopping at the exact angle before she fell forward. A practiced move. “Ok.”

“Ok.”

She lifted her other foot and slowly padded toward the kitchen. “Ok!”

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There was a shuffling noise behind her, and a very brief clink. “Okay!” Renee yelled.

Regina smiled, throwing away a crumpled napkin as her first of many tasks. “Okay, fine!” she roared and felt a good degree better than she had when the sun had come up that morning.

Laughter left both women, peals of it as if they were small girls again. Only this time, instead of hiding from parents and mean aunts and strange parties, they were cleaning up the mess. They moved cups in the sink and hauled off 4 separate trash bags. By the time Renee threw her gaze toward the door, hand already grabbing her purse, the darkness had settled in firmly. Stars lit up the sky in pockets of darkness.

“We can get home before midnight,” Renee said. Her face as far away as Regina’s body felt.

“Perfect.”

Nothing more said. They locked up their mother's house, so it lay empty again, got in their separate cars, and they both pulled away.

Regina didn’t let the silence settle around her, however. She turned the radio all the way up to her point of listening tolerance and tapped her fingers on the steering wheel as she drove. Auto-pilot took her from her mother's house to her apartment. A route she had taken every day since she moved out at 19 years old.

The thought of finally leaving the city fluttered through her mind. Her anchor was gone, wasn't it?

Her sister wouldn’t stop her, and the rest of the harpies had no say. A smile curled at the edges of her lips as she pulled into her parking lot. Moving was only a thought for the time being, but being able to have the thought at all felt nice.

And so very few things had felt nice for a very long time.

The door locked with a muffled thud, and her shoes hit the wall a second later. The purse had a hook, and her phone got thrown on her end table while she made a tall glass of wine. There was time for her to unwind, and she meant to do it warm and fuzzy. At least.

The red liquid sloshed into her rounded cup, and the stem slid under her hand as she sat down on the couch. She threw the T.V. on, letting it stay on the previously held channel despite the news being on.

She didn’t love listening to newscasts. It was doom and gloom 100 percent of the time. The remote had apparently been tossed somewhere it shouldn’t be, and her ass was already comfortable. After taking a long not-exactly-a-sip, she exchanged the glass for her phone; pop socket wedged between fingers so it wouldn’t slip as the alcohol settled in.

Facebook opened for semi-mindless scrolling, and an overly grim sounding anchor took over on the T.V. His voice was gravelly and as serious as any person could muster, and that was just him announcing the time, and his name, and other fruitless details. Regina rolled her eyes, half-listening, half wondering if she should just turn it off and go to bed instead.

*” In local news, we have received reports from several morgues within the county. The owners in conjunction with the local police departments have stated that there have been mutilated bodies, and even some left out of the cold storage. Authorities are asking for help.

If you know anyone that may be involved in such disdainful acts, please call the hotline.”*

Regina paused, thumb hovering over her screen. Mid-swipe and her brain froze, trying to process what she had just heard. It wasn’t exactly a typical report. Since when do they tell folks details like that? And what did it matter? Why would it help to know the bodies were lying around… warm and probably rotting?

Recalling the statement brought a series of disturbing images to mind, followed by her remembering her mother lay in one of those facilities. Only for a few more hours, really. They had bought extra time between ceremonies.

The thought clawed at her stomach, but it was so late already — she didn't think there was any chance she could get ahold of anyone. Putting her phone to sleep and setting it down, she tried to calm herself. The small blip had brought on several waves of anxiety, and she hoped the rest of the wine in her glass would help.

She also hoped that the money they had spent so far would offer her mother's corpse a little extra security.

Only time would tell.