This story is a fan sequel to Erin Halfelven's "Valentines 'R' Blue," so I would suggest reading that story first.

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The young lady wasn't breathing.

He'd only come over to ask her to turn the radio down. While he appreciated her music, it being the tunes he had grown up with, he and his wife were watching their grandchildren for Valentine's night and the apartment complex's walls were thin. He hadn't seen the woman who lived next to them very often, but she had always smiled at him when they would pass in the hallways.

Anyone with a smile that sad, Gary had thought, deserved a break in life.

The first warning sign came when Gary went to knock on her door, only for it to swing open on his first rap. Out from the apartment wafted a sweet, cloying smell, one that reminded him of a perfume his wife had worn when they had saved up for that trip to Paris so many years ago. He could see the glow of lights coming through from around the corner, a glow he recognized from his own little efficiency unit as being the bathroom off of the bedroom.

Something was wrong. He could feel it, and Gary had always trusted his heart on matters like that.

He called out before walking in, just in case he interrupted something embarrassing. Nothing. With neither invite nor warning, he pulled out the blasted smart phone his grandkids had insisted he needed and fumbled with it until it did one of the few things he actually liked, filling the room with cold LED light.

He picked his way through the nice but sparse furniture and back to the bedroom, using both the light from the phone and the dim glow from the bathroom to guide him. The scent grew stronger as he stepped closer, into a surprisingly beautiful bedroom for one so small. Sure enough, the light was coming from the cracked bathroom door, as was the music.

Gary gulped, and called out again.

Still no answer.

With his free hand he reached out and pulled the bathroom door open.

She was beautiful. Her makeup was done to the nines, and her dress brought more memories of Paris to his mind even as his eyes registered the other details of the scene. The stuffed animals tucked around her, seemingly for comfort, the pillows she was leaned against.

The vomit dribbling down her chest and covering the floor, smelling of whiskey and worse.

The two bottles next to her.

Gary called for his wife as loudly as he could before dialing emergency services and crouching down next to the girl.

She was still warm. Was that the alcohol, or . . . ?

But she wasn't breathing.

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White light. Distant singing. Warmth.

Was this heaven?

No.

Heaven wouldn't hurt so much.

As her senses cleared her perceptions shifted. White light, seeping through her lids from a brightly lit room. The singing was close by, but soft, and accompanied by beeps and the muffled bustle of a busy place. She was wrapped in blankets.

She started to cry, silently at first, but even as the sobs came she refused to open her eyes.

Then the singing stopped, and to her surprise, someone hugged her.

She opened her eyes.

"Grandma?" She asked, confused as the lady who had hugged her pulled back.

"I don't think so, honey," the lady said with a laugh.

She laughed herself as her eyes stopped playing tricks on her. The lady looked a lot like her grandma, but didn't sound like her at all, even if she could hear that same kindness and love in her voice.

"Sorry."

"It's alright, hon," the lady said, though the tears in her eyes told a different story. "My Gary will be glad to know you're awake. He's been fretting for days he didn't find you in time."

She closed her eyes and cried softly again. "He shouldn't have bothered."

The lady's arms were around her again, holding her as she cried.

"Don't say that. We've been worried sick about you. Had us all scared to death."

The lady pulled back again and this time handed her something unexpected.

"Pookie bear?" She gave the old stuffie a hug. He smelled like wildflowers and soap.

"It took me three washes to get the smell of whiskey off him, but I figured you'd need him when you woke up."

She opened her eyes again, still hugging the bear close. "What's your name, ma'am?"

The lady smiled. "I'm Chloe. And what's yours hon?"

She looked around the room and panicked for a moment. "The hospital . . . ."

The lady chuckled. "The hospital don't know nuthin' about nuthin'. We both know that ain't your name."

"Rose," she said, quietly. "My name is Rose."

"Well, nice to meet you Rose."

"Nice to meet you too," Rose said, more embarrassed than she could remember ever being before.

"Now, I gotta ask ya, why'd you go and do a fool thing like that anyway?" Chloe asked, giving her a disapproving and sad look.

Rose felt another tear track down her cheek. "Because it was another Valentine's day alone. Too many."

Chloe shook her head. "Honey, I think you're lucky you weren't as alone as you thought."

Rose gave Chloe one of her sad smiles. "Maybe you're right."

Chloe grabbed Rose's hand and squeezed. "I know I am," she said with confidence.

After a moment of doubt, Rose believed her.

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Hope everyone enjoyed my little (semi-authorized) continuation. I read Erin's original and couldn't help the feeling that it was a Pandora's Box of a story: she'd shared all the bad, but kept the hope safely inside, and I couldn't resist the urge to let it out.

Melanie E.