Sometimes, Susan wakes up in the darkest hours of the night and finds Edmund already there, holding her hand--he always comes to her when she cries while in her sleep.

"I wish you all hadn't hated me so much," she whispers and his brow furrows as he squeezes her hand.

"We didn't. We needed you too much for that."

"No, you didn't."

"Course we did. Who else was going to make sure we ate our dinners or brushed our teeth? Who else nursed us from our colds or made the perfect cups of tea? Where would we be without our Susan?"

Susan tries to smile, but it's only really a grimace. "But where am I without my brothers and sister?" she asks, but a passing car throws a light across the room and when the shadow flickers over Edmund, he is gone.

This is how he always leaves; Susan buries a sob and tries to go back to sleep.