Tim comes out of the home he and Abby share to find her staring at the stars.

"Hey, Abby, what you doing?" He asks the question, even though he knows the answer.

She turns and tries to smile.

Just as she always does.

She fails.

Just as she always does.

Tim hasn't seen her smile for over three weeks.

Sometimes he wonders if he'll ever see her smile again.

"I'm just looking at the stars," she says. "And wondering. They're brighter tonight."

He moves and slips his arm around her, pulling her into his embrace. He kisses the side of her head and just holds her.

After a moment or two, she rests her head on his shoulder.

"Tim," she says, her voice quiet.

"Yes, Abby?"

"Do you think â€"" She breaks off. "Ignore me. I'm being silly."

He pulls her more tightly against him, making the one-armed embrace a double one. He kisses the top of her head. "You're not being silly."

He means his words. She isn't being silly. Not to his mind she isn't.

"Oh, Tim," she says, burying her head on his shoulder.

She begins to cry.

Finally she begins to cry.

Now, he knows, she can begin to heal.

He holds her.

He just holds her.

Saying nothing.

Just holding her.

Soothing her with his arms, his silence.

Loving her as he always does.

Calming her.

Above them the stars shine down, twinkling, blinking.

She's right. They are brighter tonight.

He goes on holding her as the stars watch over them.

He's sure the stars aren't the only things to be watching over them.

"I'll never forget them," she says. "Never."

"None of us will, Abby. Remembering is important. It keeps them with us."

Then he takes her hand and leads her back into their home.