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After the council meeting, Erin felt a restless energy pulsing through her. Her mind needed clarity, which she always found best through solitude and movement. Walking aimlessly, she let her thoughts wander letting each step untangle the complexities of the situation at hand.

The disjointed terrain of limbo continued to blur past her, until a subconscious recognition stirred within her before her mind could catch up. Erin’s pace slowed. Up ahead, a group of figures moved through the mist, their movements distinct and heartbreakingly familiar. Her heart skipped a beat—could it be?

Without thinking, Erin started to run. The figures were distant, but something about the way they moved, the way the tallest one shepherded the smaller ones, ignited a spark of hope she hadn’t let herself feel. Her feet pounded the soft, ambiguous ground of limbo as her pace picked up, turning into a flat-out sprint.

As she drew closer, the figure of the man turned, his posture shifting to one of protection. He stepped in front of the children, his body tensing for an unknown threat. But as Erin burst into clear view, recognition dawned on his face.

“Erin?” The word was a breath, a hope, a fear all rolled into one. In an instant, his wariness melted away, replaced by an overwhelming relief. Mark broke into a run, mirroring her own desperate charge.

The children, sensing the shift, let out shouts and squeals, their own legs carrying them forward. Erin’s eyes filled with tears as she saw each of their faces—Emily, Jenny, Bobby, Cindy, and Ryan—etching themselves like a balm across her soul.

The collision was a mess of arms and tears, laughter and sobbing. Mark reached her first, his arms wrapping around her in a bear hug that lifted her off the ground. The children clung to her legs, her waist, anywhere they could reach. “Mommy!” Emily’s voice rang out, clear and joyous. “Mommy’s gonna wescue us!”

The laughter that bubbled up from Erin was choked and joyous, a sound that mingled with her tears and the tightening of her throat. “Yes, baby, Mommy’s here,” Erin managed to say, her voice thick with emotion.

As they all huddled together, the surreal backdrop of limbo seemed to fade into insignificance. Erin listened as Mark and the children shared their tales of disappearance, each story a piece of the puzzle she was desperately trying to solve. They spoke of strange sensations, of a day turning dark, and of whispers on the wind that called them away. Each account was different, yet eerily similar, marked by choices and moments that hinted at unseen forces at work.

“I looked for you everywhere,” Erin said, sharing her journey, her voice steady despite the tremor of emotion. “But it wasn’t until I met Croatoan that I suspected you might be here.”

“Crow-who?” asked Mark.

“Long story, but he/she/they might be part of the reason that we’re all here.” Erin tried as best she could to explain what happened to her, as well as the council’s theories, the potential of their collective fates being intertwined with cosmic balances and supernatural bargains. “We’re part of something bigger, something that’s kept us apart but now brings us together. And I promise you, we’ll find a way back home.”

As the night drew on, the family sat together, their reunion a poignant blend of joy and the pain of their shared predicament. Erin held her children close, Mark’s hand firm in hers, their circle a bastion against the uncertainty of limbo.

Not. The. End.