The day Larissa had died, your world tilted. It was like someone had reached into your life and turned out the lights. Larissa had been your everything: your best friend, your love, your entire world. And then she was gone, just like that. And you weren't even there for it.

The guilt you harboured only made the grieving worse. The millions of 'maybe's' and 'what if's' taunted you in your misery. If only you had been there. Maybe you could've stopped it. What if you had gone with her when Wednesday had suggested her plan? Would she still be alive?

When you had finally managed to get yourself back into a fairly functional state of being, you were straight back to Nevermore. You had always worked closely with Larissa, so you thought you'd be the one to take over; you could continue to shape Nevermore the way you and Larissa had wanted it. But the board decided that you were too emotionally involved in what had happened to become Principal. So they hired Barry Dort for the job, while you remained as Vice.

You hated the man, quite frankly. He was outright disrespectful when he spoke about Larissa, not even attempting to disguise his distaste surrounding her. It made your blood boil. You'd gotten into many a dispute with Dort in his short time at Nevermore, often resulting in you retiring to your office to angrily write out any papers or marking you had to get done.

That was what you were doing now. Your pen scribbling away at the page, anger simmering from yet another clash with Dort. When a knock sounded at your door, you were less than pleased.

"Not now!"

You'd responded, tone just about as stormy as your mood. The door swung open anyway, and someone stepped inside.

"Is that really how you greet me after all this time, dear?"

The male voice gave you pause; no man you knew used terms of endearment with you. When you lifted your gaze, though, you found that it wasn't a man at all. Not anymore. Your breath caught in your throat.

Larissa.