Eyes pop open this time. Third time's a charm, they say. I garble:
"Melody . . ."
"Back with us, McQue," Duck's voice. "Good. Just take it easy."
Try to sit up. Can't. Pain surges. Garble again. "Melody . . . where's . . .how . . ."
"Slow and easy, buddy," Duck's at my right. "You can't sit up yet."
"Melody . . . the car . . . an explosion!"
"Gavin," Heather's voice, she sounds like she's next to Duck."Dear. Melody's . . . gone."
"Gone."
"Vaporized," Duck growls, "It's just lucky she closed that window or you woulda gone up with her. As it was, the whole inside of the car was ash. You got hit by the door when it blew open. Also caught some of the concussion."
"Gone? You mean . . ."
"Dead, Gavin." Heather whispers. "Melody is dead. I'm so sorry."
"No. No. She isn't dead. She can't be dead. We're getting married." Somehow I'm sitting up, the agony ripping through me isn't from the bruises and breaks. "We're using the Manse. We got all kinds of guests coming . . ."
"Everyone's gone home, Gavin," Heather soothes. "The wedding was set for three days ago. You've been unconscious since then."
"But Melody can't be dead." I groan, "She can't be." I turn to Heather. "You. You're the Angel of Death. Do something. Make her not be dead."
"Gavin, I . . . I can't."
Dawning on me: "That's why you weren't at the wedding. You knew!"
She turns away.
"You knew and you let it happen! You knew and you did nothing!"
Her body begins to shake. "I couldn't" she's sobbing. "I couldn't. It was her time."
"Couldn't? Her time? What does that mean? What good are you?"' I'm shouting now, as much as it hurts. "Get out of my sight. You can't help, get lost." She flees the room. Duck starts after her. Turns back.
"Gonna let it go for now," he says. "You're not responsible. But settle down. You don't know everything."