I looked up, looked briefly at Beverly, then at Eddie before my gaze dropped down to my hands again. I had dug graves with these hands. I had carved names into stones and bits of wood, anything to remember the boys who died on Peter's Island. I didn't know if what I was about to offer would go over well or not, but I had to do it, and Beverly's suggestion fell in line.

"I want to go back," I said softly. "To... to bury him."

Even if there was nothing there, I knew his glasses had fallen. If nothing else, we could retrieve those and do something.

"If it's okay with you both," I added. It was something I needed to do, but I understood for all Richie was my friend, he was something even more to the two of them.

After I spoke, I braced myself. I didn't think Eddie would want me to go back out there and I wouldn't blame him. Not after what had just happened. But it felt wrong to me, the idea of leaving Richie out there where something so terrible had happened.