He picks up the stone and holds it out towards me. Reaching out, I grab it, and he wraps his hands around mine, causing electricity to pulse through my body. My pulse quickens, and I attempt to control my breathing and stay calm.
“On three?” I ask.
He nods, beginning the count. “One.”
“Two,” I say.
“Three,” we say together. He nods, encouraging me.
“We want to go home,” we say in unison, both freezing and looking around the space, but nothing has changed.
This is just the first step. We still have to sleep.
“Maybe we say it a couple of more times to be sure,” he suggests.
I nod again, inhaling deeply. The mix of pine and sugar cookies fills my nostrils.
“We want to go home,” we repeat two more times.
Pulling away, I turn and place the little blue stone under the pillows at the top of the bed and then the other two stones on the nightstand.
We both move to blow out the candles then nestle under the covers. He reaches out, pulling me into him.
“Night,” I say.
“Good night,” he says, kissing the side of my head. “I’ll see you in New York, Sugar.”
I exhale, melting further into his embrace. Our breathing begins to even out, and I close my eyes, hoping that we’re right.
Chapter 29: Stella!
December Twenty-First
“Everett!” Claire’s panicked voice jerks me awake.
“What? What is it? Did it work?” I say, blinking my eyes open and trying to orient myself to what’s going on.
“We’re still here.” Her voice falters, and I turn to see her sitting up in bed with tears streaming down her face.
“It’s okay,” I say, sitting up and taking in all the pink that still surrounds us.
Fuck. It didn’t work.
“You don’t know that,” she says, collapsing against my chest. Her whole body shakes as she cries, and I soothe my hand over her spine, trying to calm her.
“Maybe we missed something,” I suggest. “We can figure it out.”
She pulls away from me, and I rub the pads of my thumbs across her cheeks, wiping away her tears.
“But we were so sure. Everything pointed to the crystals. Why would they have worked to bring us here but not bring us back?” Her voice is rushed, and she doesn’t seem to come up for air until the last word.
“I don’t know, but maybe there is more to it or maybe…” I try to come up with a reason as to why we woke up in Sugarplum Park this morning and not New York, but I honestly have no idea.
“It just doesn’t make sense,” she says, wiping her nose with the back of her hand.
“Then I think we need to get some answers.”
“Stella?”
