Wes and I are both eighteen now, and he never went back to his house. My grandfather collected his stuff for him and moved him into our spare bedroom until we leave for college. Graduation is only a week away, and after the summer, we’re going to Arizona, of all places.
Wes isn’t giving up on the possibility of becoming a lawyer in the future, but for now he’s been accepted into the journalism school, and I’ll be there in the creative writing department. My grandparents joke that they look forward to us moving back in after we graduate with our shiny English degrees.
My phone buzzes, and I take it out. A smile spreads across my lips.
You’ve probably seen this, but...,Michael Realm writes, attaching the article about Dr. Warren.
I did,I reply.Still feels just as good to read it again.
He sends a picture this time, and it’s Dallas in the front seat of his car, her eyes closed, her tongue out, as she holds up a set of keys.Got a new place if you guys want to come visit.
There’s a soft tug on my heart, mostly happiness. Realm and Dallas moved to Eugene, and before he left, Realm told Marie that he truly hoped he’d never see her again, before hugging her good-bye.
I’m glad that Realm finally sees he’s good enough to be loved. I’m a little sad that he moved away, especially now that I remember our friendship. I blink back the start of tears.
Tell Dallas to plan a party and I’m there,I write. I don’t really know her; she’s kind of intimidating, if I’m honest. But she and Realm have been doing this together for a long time. He told me once that he always hoped he’d make it back to her. I’m happy that he did.
I put the phone away and start toward my friends. Nathan notices me first and nods to me. I’m glad he’s finding closure with Melody, even if it doesn’t lead to anything more.
Wes never looks up at me, eating his sandwich and listening to Foster and Arturo tell a story, but when I sit next to him, he passes over his bag of cookies without a word.
“And then what happened?” he asks Foster, totally invested in the conversation. His dimples flash, and I watch him—enjoying his curiosity. When the story’s done, Wes turns to me and looks me up and down.
“Hi,” he says simply.
“Hi,” I respond, fighting back a smile. And then, in a swift movement, he wraps his arms around me and tips me back into the shrubbery, kissing me passionately. I laugh, hand on his cheek, and let him help me back up.
“Disgusting,” Nathan says under his breath, and Wes blows him a kiss.
We all have lunch together, and it’s the purest thing I can remember. After years of being scared all the time, of living in constant fear and worry—we’ve all found our peace, much like Wes.
Heisthe love of my life, but he’s not my life. I have that back now—no more threats, no more secrets. A bit of research proved I had no biological family left, but I have my name—Cynthia Wilds.
I’ve never used it. I let her rest with her mother and father. She was someone in another life, but she died the day I was created.
Wes slips his hand around mine, leaning in to murmur that he loves me because I’m so fucking cute, and I smile to myself. It’s all so simple now that it’s shocking sometimes.
But I accept our fate, accept this new world. I know we deserve it.
Because we’re all better people now.
EPILOGUE
SLOANE BARSTOW LIES ON THEbank of the river, her forearm over her face to block the summer sun. It was getting too hot, and James promised to take her somewhere to escape the weekend heat. Realm and Dallas were off on another secret mission, so they were out of town.
But even though Sloane’s at the river, the same river where her brother died, she still doesn’t entirely love swimming. She opted to roast on the blanket instead.
As if she conjured him up, she hears James approach from where he’s been in the river. Sloane lowers her arm and looks at him, one eye squinted against the sun. James stands at the edge of the blanket, staring at the water as he drags a towel over his bare chest, his hair golden in the sunlight. He senses her watching him, and he glances down at her with those arresting blue eyes.
“You checking me out, Sloane?” he asks, exactly the same way he asked her years before when she first realized she liked him.
“No,” she replies easily, trying not to smile.
James nods like he believes her and goes back to watching the water. He tosses the towel aside and lowers himself onto the blanket next to her.
Sloane’s face is turned in his direction, waiting. She can feel the coolness coming off his skin from the river water. James looks sideways at her, his eyes impossibly blue, as he runs his gaze over her swimsuit.
They’re quiet for a long moment, Sloane’s heart speeding up, a smile creeping over her lips.
