Wheeling Gull Isle You're facing down a dark hall

She was close with her sisters. Was. Tybault didn't like the finality of that. He didn't want to become like that, to one day think of Ophelia and think was. But then, hadn't that already happened?
Four months. And now, he was given a Plan B; a choice, where he had given himself none before. Stay in Sweetharbor. He almost wanted to ask what Bartholomew would think of that, but he had a feeling he knew. He had told him he was welcome, even after a full conversation with him. Bartholomew struck him as the type who would accept a gift of carrion with a smile and happily barf flowers. No way he'd protest Tybault's presence. He met her eyes, and wondered what it was he saw in them. He couldn't quite tell.
I could, Tybault said after a moment, struck most of all by the fact that she had invited him. If it had been Bartholomew, he would not have entertained it. I still have two more packs to visit. I'll - think about it. Maybe he would return. Already he wanted to, and he hadn't even left yet. But Ophelia was still out there, somewhere.