Swiftcurrent Creek all the world you roam, turns you into stone

Home. That's what this is, isn't it? She barely recognizes it through blurred, fevered vision, mind racing in a million directions all at once. But she remembers how it smells; she doesn't think she'll ever forget that. This is the place where she'd first experienced motherhood, where she'd found Rosalie — where she'd lost herself.
And now? Now she's truly lost. Dead on her feet, a corpse walking, no family to guide her or lovers to warm her. No children to whisper their love to her as she passes. She stumbles with a hacking laugh that quickly turns into a cough, and then a sob. She falls. This is where she dies, then; in a home full of ghosts, alone, as she's always been.