Happy birthday, Isabel. I’m 18 today, mother. October 25th. At least that’s the day we’ve always celebrated as my birthday. But you’re the only one really who knows the real day. I guess that’s why I came to the place, the only place I’ve ever seen you. I hold…I hold on to that day, but you disappeared, and the picture of you was already fading, and it’s all I had.
Alex: I remember when Michael almost died in here. He went somewhere in his, in his mind, and he barely made it out.
Isabel: I have to do this.
Alex: Then I’m going to stay with you. …If I’m holding on to you, maybe you won’t get lost.
And there we were. All together, with everything we’d all been through over the last two years. The battles we’d fought, the relationships that were formed, the feelings for each other, stronger than any feelings we’d ever known could exist. And somehow in this moment I had this really strong, really upsetting feeling, that this was the last time we’d all be standing together.
He’ll need to use his power to open the doors. He’ll take a deep breath, put his hand on his chest, and bring him back to life. And Alex will sit up suddenly, and Max will jump back, and the whole wagon will shake a little. The whole… The whole wagon will shake and…and they’ll come running back here with big goofy grins on their faces and we’ll have to come up with some kind of cover story for Hanson and everybody.
Fine. This Isabel Evans is dead. You want to be the leader? See how it works without any followers.