She met both Cayce and John's eyes for a moment, love, hope, and regret written plain on her face. She ducked her head, and attended to her work. The lamp lit, Psyche rose to her feet, disregarding the tears falling on her own face and everyone else's. She would step through the door, and see

- no, wait, not yet, not when she was still holding the connection open between herself and those above.

She paused for a moment, then extended the arm holding the lamp through the opening.

It cast a warm and golden light. Not far - a few feet, at best, and the flickering flame at the spout seemed terribly small in comparison to the darkness. But it was something.

"Cayce," she said, turning back, her arm still extended through the door. "Will you look again?"