When she walks into the house, she's struck by how quiet it is. It reminds her of her childhood, after her mother disappeared in the quantum realm. Cold, distant, unbearably lonely. Grief shrouds the house like a cloak; her husband flits around like a ghost.

Just thinking about the haunted look in his eyes is enough to make Hope shudder. Scott's eyes have always been Hope's favorite physical feature of his - the way they sparkle with love and mischief, the way ounces of love and adoration ooze through them whenever he looks at her or his children. But ever since the accident, his eyes have been lifeless. He's been lifeless. And it terrifies Hope to think, to know, that he'll never be whole again.

How could he ever be whole while missing such an integral piece of himself?

Her heels clack on the hardwood floor. She's grateful for the noise. It distracts her from thoughts of Cassie should have been at her championship soccer game this morning; Mom and Dad were supposed to go, and It's so quiet without her here.

It's Cassie's week with Scott and Hope, and she's not here for it because some speeding asshole hit her with his car. Scott and Maggie are almost numb with despair, but she and Jim talk about how angry they are, how they wish they could find the person who did this to Cassie, to their family, limb from limb.

Jim's not vengeful, but Hope is. She'd be the least of that guy's worries. But all thoughts of revenge cease as she catches sight of Scott, curled up on the sofa, staring at the sweatshirt clenched in his hands through teary eyes. Her heart aches at the sight, and she kneels in front of him, gently cups his cheek in her palm. She smiles softly as he leans into her touch.

"Hi, sweetheart," she whispers as she rubs her thumb under Scott's eye. He looks so exhausted that it's almost painful to look at him. "What are you doing?"

Scott shrugs. "I came back from dropping Tori off for her playdate and I just...Decided to go into...into her room. I don't know why, I really can't stand going in there, but I just needed to, you know?" Hope nods encouragingly as Scott takes a shuddering breath. "I miss her so much, Hope. I don't know how I'm going to survive this. I don't. It hurts too much without her."

She draws her husband close as he shakes with sobs and doesn't bother blinking back her own tears. They've cried together so many times over the past three weeks. Scott won't mind. Scott wraps his arms around her waist and squeezes her like a lifeline. It hurts, but it's nothing compared to the searing pain that she's carried around every day since they got the dreaded phone call. She isn't Cassie's mother, but that's never stopped Hope from loving her like one of her own. Cassie is - was? - easy to love, easy to get along with, easy to like. Being her stepmom, Hope thinks, is a gift. And now she had nothing to show for it; now her family carried around an invisible pain that Hope doesn't think will ever heal.

I don't know how I'm going to survive this. It hurts too much without her.

Amazing, Hope thinks as she and Scott sob on their living room floor, how it takes one night to destroy an entire family.