Behind us, back on land, I felt the shadow of Sparrow Crest looming, our favorite place on earth, the house we were going to live in together when we grew up.
Jax and Lex. The X girls. Forever.
I’m sorry, I thought, wishing I could say the words out loud, but feeling she heard them anyway.So, so sorry.
And Iwassorry. Sorry I’d made that stupid wish all those years ago. Sorry I’d never been able to really help her, to fix her or save her. Sorry I’d moved across the country to get away from her. Sorry I’d shut her out after Gram died. Sorry I hadn’t picked up the phone that last night.
Lexie’s fingers wrapped tightly around mine. She was as cold as the water, a girl made of ice.
She pulled me down, deeper, deeper, the water as black as the night sky.
And I made out pinpricks of light—some bright, some dim. Theylooked like the day Lexie took me to outer space in her cardboard rocket and held the flashlight, created her very own galaxy, making the stars spin across the ceiling, just as the stars were dancing now.
Only these weren’t stars—I saw that now as I got closer. The lights were people.
Each person emitted a greenish white glow like they had night-lights inside them, something to keep the darkness away.
Lexie kept her hand clamped around mine and was taking me deeper, toward them.
Isn’t this wonderful, Jax?she said. No one could speak underwater. But still, I heard her. It was my sister’s voice.We’re actually going to do it! Get to the other side of the world.
My lungs were screaming for air. I fought the urge to open my mouth, take a desperate gulp of water. My vision narrowed.
It was cold. So cold.
I fought against her, tried to pull away, but it was useless.
Lexie held tight to my hand. Kept pulling me down.
Down, down, down.
Who are all these people?I asked her in my mind, looking at the faces we passed.
But I knew the answer. I recognized some of them. There was little Rita, seven years old, our dead little aunt whose books we read, whose games we played.
Nelson DeWitt, who bottled water from the springs. Eliza Harding, Ryan’s great-grandmother. Martha Woodcock, the little girl who drowned at the hotel and made friends with Rita. And others I didn’t recognize but who must have drowned in the springs. So many people, swirling around us, dancing lights in the darkness. And I knew, as I floated down with them, that what Shirley had said was true, they were the source of the water’s strength.
Stay, they seemed to say.Stay down here with us Make us stronger.
I thought of my father, of Diane, of my life in Tacoma, my friends. I thought of Lexie’s cat, Pig. I thought of Declan, of all the kids I’d helped and needed to go on helping.
I can’t stay. I don’t belong here.
I fought harder against Lexie, tried to swim back up, up to the land of the living, but my movements were so slow, so weak. And Lexie was so strong.
I didn’t feel cold anymore.
On the contrary, I felt a new warmth radiating from my chest out to my arms and legs. I looked down and saw that I, too, had begun to glow.
Don’t you see?Lexie said.Both of our wishes can come true.
That’s when I felt it. Hands on the back of my shirt, tugging, jerking, trying to pull me up, away from the lights. Away from Lexie.
Lexie held out her hand, pointer finger up. I crossed it with my own.
Me and you, Jax. Jax and Lex. The X girls, always and forever.
I closed my eyes, felt myself being pulled away from her, up out of the water.
