text: Several weeks later, an envelope from a law office in North Dakota arrived for Scott Summers, Jean Grey, Logan, Rogue, and Kurt Wagner. The envelope contained two letters and a key. The first letter was dated two days after their arrival home in New York.
  
  "What's that?" Jean asked, peering over Scott's shoulder.
  
  "It's James," Scott said. "He finally remembered where he heard the name. He's leaving his home and land in care of the school."
  
  "Oh," she breathed. "Oh, my."
  
  The second letter, from the attorney, said just a little more.
  
  That afternoon the five of them flew out to North Dakota to bury James. They dug the hole with shovels and pickaxes, and laid him to rest beside his wife. They did not say any words, but sat beside his grave for a time, watching the sun cross the sky and the grass thrush in the wind. The lilac tree, though it had no blooms, looked especially pretty.
  
  They left after the stars came out. Dog went with them.