Beverly thought about Alvin Marsh, the father who had terrorized her childhood, and Tom Rogan, the husband who later repeated the same pattern of control and abuse in adulthood. After everything she had endured, the peaceful life she built for herself had become too precious to gamble away on another relationship. She shook her head and smiled faintly. "I don't think I'm interested in looking anymore. I'm happy with my life, and the two of you are already my family."
Ash's hands paused on her shoulders. After a moment, he lowered them and wrapped his arms loosely around Beverly from behind, resting his chin against her shoulder. "Then why don't you come to New York with us? You're an independent designer. Most of your work can be handled online, so you don't have to stay in Woodsboro forever."
Beverly blinked. She had not seriously considered the possibility, but the idea immediately felt more reasonable than she expected. She liked the peace of Woodsboro and had spent years turning the house into a real home, yet the property would still be there whenever she wanted to return. Living closer to Ash and Gwen appealed to her far more than remaining alone simply because she was accustomed to the town.
Gwen's eyes brightened. "I think that's a great idea. We can all live in the same city. Family doesn't have to separate just because Ash and I are adults."
"Children are supposed to grow up and build lives of their own," Beverly replied, though her lack of conviction was obvious. After considering it for another moment, she added, "Let's not decide anything immediately. You two should live in New York for a while and see how things go. I still have a design contract here that needs my supervision, so once I finish that project, we can talk about it again."
"Fair enough," Gwen said. She did not push further because moving Beverly's entire life was not something that needed to be decided over one dinner. The possibility was enough for now.
The following morning, Ash and Gwen loaded the Ford and headed for New York City.
Compared with Woodsboro, New York seemed enormous and incapable of slowing down. Towers squeezed the sky into narrow strips above crowded streets, traffic packed every major avenue, and pedestrians moved with the urgency of people who always had somewhere else to be. Farther south, the Empire State Building rose through the haze while the air carried a mixture of exhaust, coffee, restaurant food, and the damp breath rolling from subway entrances.
The building they had chosen stood on Manhattan's Upper West Side. It was a seventeen-story red-brick apartment building with twenty-four-hour doormen, well-maintained elevators, and four units on most floors. A subway entrance was only a few minutes away on foot, while supermarkets, pharmacies, parks, restaurants, and other basic services were scattered throughout the surrounding blocks.
Once Gwen saw the neighborhood in person, she understood why even the economy units cost around three thousand dollars a month.
Their real-estate agent was a middle-aged man named Kyle who arrived in a crisp suit with a leather briefcase tucked beneath one arm. His eyes briefly lingered on their young faces when they introduced themselves, probably because Upper West Side renters were more often established professionals or families than an eighteen-year-old college student and his twenty-two-year-old sister. The surprise vanished quickly, and he extended his hand with a practiced smile.
"Nice to meet you. I'm Kyle. I handle leasing for several units in this building."
He led them through the lobby while explaining the property. "There are seventeen floors. The top two have the premium units, floors nine through fifteen are upgraded apartments, floors four through eight are standard units, and the economy apartments are mainly on the second and third floors. Security and building services are the same regardless of the unit."
Their original goal was an economy apartment, but Ash convinced Gwen to inspect one of the standard units before deciding. The three-bedroom, two-bath apartment covered roughly thirteen hundred square feet and had better finishes, larger windows, and more natural light. Gwen was visibly tempted, yet one look at the higher monthly rent brought her back to reality.
They eventually returned to an economy unit on the second floor.
The apartment was smaller and older but still had three proper bedrooms. The south-facing living room received decent daylight, although street noise could be heard through the windows, and the kitchen and finishes were several years behind the more expensive floors. One bedroom was noticeably smaller than the others, but the layout was practical enough for three people.
"This one," Gwen decided.
Ash looked around once more. "You're sure?"
"It has three bedrooms, good transportation, security downstairs, and it doesn't cost five thousand dollars a month. Yes, I'm sure."
Kyle had apparently expected them to continue shopping, so their decision surprised him. He opened his briefcase, produced the application paperwork, and walked Gwen through the documents they needed to submit.
The apartment could not be handed over immediately. The management company required ordinary credit verification, background screening, identification, and proof that the applicants could meet the rent. Kyle estimated the approval process would take between one and three business days.
Ash and Gwen therefore booked a nearby hotel instead of driving back to Woodsboro.
The application nearly failed.
Gwen had been hired but had not officially started her newspaper job, meaning she could not yet show an established employment history there. Ash was eighteen and about to begin college, which made him an even weaker applicant on paper. Their financial situation was far better than their employment records suggested, but property managers tended to prefer predictable monthly income over explanations about unexpected cash earned during an extremely dangerous road trip.
Fortunately, Beverly agreed to act as guarantor. Ash could also demonstrate enough available funds to cover an entire year of rent if necessary, which finally satisfied management.
Two days later, Kyle called with the approval.
The lease was formally signed, deposits were paid, and Kyle handed Gwen the apartment keys along with the building access cards. Before leaving them alone, he walked through every room with Ash and Gwen and documented existing scratches, worn fixtures, marks on the walls, and other minor damage so none of it could later be blamed on them when the lease ended.
Kyle handled the entire process efficiently. He occasionally seemed curious about how two people their age could afford the apartment, but he never allowed that curiosity to interfere with his professional attitude.
Once the paperwork was complete, the real work began.
Gwen took responsibility for furnishing the apartment while Ash handled transportation. Since the unit came mostly empty, they needed beds, tables, chairs, storage, kitchen equipment, lamps, and dozens of smaller items that only became obvious after they tried living without them. Gwen spent a full day moving between furniture stores and secondhand shops, comparing prices until she assembled everything they actually needed without wasting money on decorative luxuries.
Her choices were practical rather than expensive, but she had a talent for making simple things look intentional. Within a day, the empty apartment began feeling warmer. A dining table appeared near the kitchen, chairs gathered around it, beds filled the bedrooms, cookware occupied the cabinets, and a few inexpensive lamps softened the harsh overhead lighting.
Ash spent most of that time driving.
He made two trips between Woodsboro and Manhattan, loading the Ford with clothes, computers, books, souvenirs, personal documents, and everything else they packed before leaving. The repeated drive was tiring, but their preparation made the move far smoother than it might have been.
Within another day or two, the apartment was functional.
When it came time to choose bedrooms, Ash immediately claimed the smallest one. "I barely own anything compared with you two. This is enough."
Gwen received the larger master bedroom with the best morning light. The remaining bedroom was reserved for Heather, and several bags belonging to her had already been placed inside while they waited for her to finish dealing with Gavin and Arlene.
In truth, Gwen doubted the bedroom arrangement would matter much once Heather arrived. Ash and Heather already shared a bed often enough that she suspected his tiny room would eventually become more of a private office than a proper bedroom.
Ash did not care.
His room was narrow enough that a normal bed would consume most of the available space, so he chose a loft-style bunk setup instead. He slept on the lower level while using the upper section for storage, leaving enough floor space for a compact desk and the desktop computer he brought from Woodsboro. A narrow wardrobe occupied the remaining wall.
His weapons came with him as well.
The Remington 870, Winchester, revolver, and his father's silver greatsword all made the trip to Manhattan. Ash stored the long guns and greatsword securely beneath the bed while keeping the revolver locked away separately inside the desk.
New York was not Woodsboro, and Ash was only eighteen. Whatever protection the revolver might provide against Ghostface, demons, cannibals, or another undead killer, legally possessing a handgun in the city was another matter entirely.
For now, he kept it secured and out of sight.
That night, Ash lay on his new bed while Manhattan glowed beyond the apartment windows. Traffic still moved somewhere below, voices drifted faintly from the street, and the building occasionally hummed with the sound of elevators traveling between floors. Compared with the quiet house in Woodsboro, the city seemed incapable of truly sleeping.
Ash looked around the cramped bedroom and smiled.
It was small, old, and nowhere near luxurious.
But it was his first home in New York.