“I’m sorry, too.” Those words, a stone thrown that shatters the whole dam. Waters flood. Drown her. Tears fall. Her cheeks feel warm and wet as her nose starts to plug up. “I love you, too.”

He pulls her close. Wraps his one arm around her. It’s strong enough for three, four arms. “I can stay a while if you want.”

“It’s OK. I’ll go with… Burnsy, is his name?”

“Yeah. He’s all right.” Mookie pauses. “I killed him. A while back.”

“Oh.”

“I know. But he’ll get you squared away. I’ll bring blankets. And food. Anything you need. You still like those little – shit, what are they called? The little chocolate buttons with the tiny white dots–”

“Non-pareils.”

“Yeah. Those. I’ll bring you a big bag of those.”

She kisses his cheek. “Bye, Daddy.”

He can’t seem to say goodbye. Looks like he tries, but his mouth can’t form the words. Instead he nods, musses her hair like he used to do when she was little.

Then he’s gone.

Chapter 31

31

I’m between. I mean that. Like, I don’t belong anywhere? I’m alive but bound to the land of the dead, which means I’m not all that alive, am I? I’m just a prettier zombie than the rest of these people here in Daisypusher. I feel between in a lot of ways, actually. I’m not a good girl, but maybe I’m not such a bad one. I love my father, but there’s a still part of me that hates him, too, because of Mom. I don’t know what I want to do. I don’t even know who I am. Burnsy tells me that’s called “being human” and, worse, “being a teenager”, but I think maybe he’s just trying to be nice. I’m just… between. I’m nowhere. I’m nobody. Maybe that’s OK. Maybe I can do something with it. For now, this place is my home. Not Daisypusher. I don’t belong here either. I mean, all of it is home. The Underworld. I press my hands to its walls, and I can feel it there. Almost like it’s aware of me – as much as I am of it. One day soon I’m going to explore my new home. All of it.

– from the Journals of Eleanor Jessamyne Pearl, Living Dead Girl

It’s an accounting of the dead.