"Don't think I ever thought I done anything to deserve this. The things I've done, the blood on my hands..."

The voice caught Elizabeth off guard. She'd been admiring the tower in the distance. The Paris skyline. Everything was just a little too bright and she didn't know why she was back. Shouldn't everything have just...stopped?

The smell of pastries assaulted her senses as one was held out to her. She turned to look at Booker, at her father.

"I don't know why I'm back here again. I thought ... I thought we didn't exist anymore." She took the pastry (it was a strawberry tart) from him, and studied it. She took a bite, and it tastes as real as any pastry she'd ever had before.

The man shrugged. "Maybe we don't. We ain't alive anymore. Maybe this is your reward. Sure as hell ain't mine."

"But what I did..." Her voice barely cracked a whisper.

"Broke the circle. All nations fall, Rapture was no different. You just ensured there'd be an escape for those little girls." That wasn't Booker's voice. It was a woman's drawl. She lifted her head and stared into eyes the same color as her own.

"Oh," Elizabeth said, her eyes widening. She felt stupid and small and vastly overwhelmed. Once, she'd held an infinite viewpoint, and now it had shrunk to something that felt like less than nothing.

None of this should be possible. Elizabeth had questions, so many questions and her mind was already searching for answers. Was this heaven? Or was this merely a figment of her dying mind? Was she bleeding out, her last breath rattling in her chest as her mind desperately tried to ease the end?

"I promised to show you Paris, a long time ago," Booker said. He held out his hand. Elizabeth hesitated. She still had questions, but she was so tired of looking for answers.

Maybe tomorrow. Or maybe the day after that. Today, she took Booker's hand, today she felt her mother's arm around her shoulders(and she never knew you could miss something you'd never had before now). Her last heartbeats or an eternity, she wanted to enjoy it, free of the burdens that had crushed her. "Took you long enough."