Night does not fall gently after the cremation.
It crashes.
The house is quiet in the way that feels wrong, like a breath being held too long. Saph's room stays untouched. Her door is half open, the light off, like she might walk back in and complain about everyone invading her space.
She never does.
Summer locks herself in the bathroom.
She sits on the cold tiles, back against the tub, knees pulled to her chest. The mirror above the sink is fogged from the shower she never actually took.
She presses her fist to her mouth.
Nothing comes out at first.
Then a sound slips through anyway.
It is small. Broken. Angry.
"I didn't mean it," she whispers to no one. "I swear I didn't."
Her phone lights up on the counter.
No notification sound.
Just the glow.
She does not check it.
She already knows the game is watching.
Down the hall, Jason is in the guest room. The bed is too big. He sits on the edge of it like he does not deserve to lie down.
Saph's hoodie is folded beside him.
He lifts it, presses it to his face without thinking. It still smells like her shampoo and something warm and familiar.
His shoulders shake.
"She hated hospitals," he murmurs. "Remember that time she faked a stomach ache just to skip visiting Ryan?"
A laugh tries to form. It dies halfway.
"I was going to tell her I loved her again," he says, voice cracking. "Like… properly. Not rushed. Not between classes."
He sinks forward, elbows on his knees.
"She used to say I didn't fight for things enough. That I let stuff happen instead of choosing."
Tears hit the floor.
"I should've chosen her louder."
In the living room, Kaida sits cross legged on the couch, Lyrelle leaning into her side without asking. Prince stands by the window, arms crossed, jaw tight. Ryan paces once, twice, then stops like he forgot what he was doing.
No one is on their phones.
That alone says everything.
"She really held us together," Lyrelle says softly.
Kaida nods. "We just didn't notice. She was annoying so it was easy to ignore how much she mattered."
Prince exhales. "She called us out. Every time. That's why the game hated her."
Ryan looks up. "Or why it needed her."
Silence stretches.
Then Jason appears in the doorway.
Everyone turns.
He looks smaller somehow.
"I keep thinking she's just mad," he says quietly. "Like she's upstairs, refusing to talk to me. And if I wait long enough, she'll come down and say something sarcastic."
His voice drops.
"But she's not."
Summer steps out of the bathroom then.
Her eyes are red. Her face is wet.
Jason looks at her.
For a second, something sharp flashes between them. Pain. Blame. Regret.
Then it fades into something heavier.
Shared loss.
"She loved you," Jason says. Not accusing. Just true. "Even when she was angry."
Summer's breath stutters. She nods.
"I know."
Kaida's phone vibrates on the couch.
No one touches it.
The screen lights up anyway.
One message.
"You all felt it now."
No one asks what it means.
They already understand.
Saph was not just a player.
She was the center.
The heart that kept beating while everyone else looked away.
And now that she is gone, the game does not need to rush.
Because grief moves slower.
And it cuts deeper.