Pene sat on the porch, the late afternoon sun casting long shadows across the dusty ground. The quiet had settled back over the camp, the noise of children’s laughter fading with the distance. She had been thinking for hours, her mind circling the same tired paths, but now, there was only one thing left to do.

She reached for her tea, her hand shaking as she lifted the cup to her lips. The tea was warm, but it did nothing to soothe the chill inside her. She set the cup down with a sigh and leaned back in her chair, staring at the door, willing it to open.

When it did, a figure appeared in the doorway—Chris, stepping out from the house with her easy grin and ever-present glasses. Pene hadn’t even realized she’d been waiting for her, but now that she was here, the decision felt inevitable.

"Come sit," Pene said, her voice rough, as if it had been unused for far too long.

Chris hesitated only a moment before crossing the porch, taking the chair across from Pene with her usual grace. She didn’t say anything right away. She didn’t need to. Pene had already made up her mind, and Chris knew it.

"So," Chris said, as she sat back in her chair, fiddling with the sleeve of her jacket, "what did you want to talk about this time?"

Pene glanced at her, her expression unreadable. "I’m tired," she said finally, "tired of being stuck between two lives, two worlds. I thought I wanted to die. But now, it feels like living is all there is left. So I’m asking you. If you can truly measure what happens when a person dies, maybe you can help me find the end of this." 

Chris’ eyes sharpened, the gleam of excitement barely hidden behind her calm demeanor. "You’re sure? You want to go through with it?"

Pene closed her eyes, the weight of the decision pressing heavily on her chest. "I’m sure. I’ve been dead before. I’ve been brought back. And now, I want to be free of it. I want to know what’s on the other side, even if it’s just for a moment."

Chris nodded, her fingers drumming on the armrest of her chair. "Alright. But we’ll need to get the paperwork in order. There are legalities to consider." She looked at Pene then, her smile less teasing now, more focused. "It won’t be easy, but I’ll make it happen. I’ll handle the arrangements. You’ll be in control of your choice."

Pene didn’t speak at first, simply watching Chris. Her expression softened, almost imperceptible, as if she had just given herself permission to let go. "Thank you," she said quietly. 

Chris stood, ready to leave, but stopped at the door. "I’ll be back soon," she said, her tone lighter now, almost too casual. "Don’t go anywhere in the meantime."

Pene didn’t respond, but she didn’t need to. Chris knew she would be there, waiting, as she always had been. As if she had no other choice.

The door clicked shut behind her, leaving Pene in the silence once more. She stared out at the empty road, watching the sun dip lower in the sky. There was a strange sense of finality now, like a door had opened just a crack and she had stepped through it. But she hadn’t walked away just yet. She was still here. She could still hear the hum of the world around her. 

Her chest tightened, and she felt the familiar ache of longing—the wish for something more, something beyond all of this. Was this truly the end? Or was it just another beginning she didn’t understand?

Pene thought of her children, her husband, the people in the camp who had watched her die and return. They would never understand what she had chosen. They would never know what it was like to live like this—to be alive and dead at once. 

Would they mourn her when she was gone? Or would they simply breathe easier, the weight of her existence lifting from their shoulders? 

She didn’t know. And for the first time in a long while, she realized she didn’t care.

Pene closed her eyes, a single tear slipping down her cheek.