“If you prefer to believe that, then do so. But I don’t have much to lose by speaking it.”
As warmth sinks into my cheeks, I dip my hand into my pocket and remove my phone. “Stand there,” I say.
He’s regal in his stature, a modest smile playing on his lips.Hair sweeps into his eyeline, but he pushes it away with a quick brushing motion, head tipped toward the sun’s golden stream. That’s when I snap the photo—half-candid, all him. When I reveal the result, he makes a delighted sound of approval.
“It’s like you belong here,” I say, braving a step closer to him.
A shadow crosses his face. “I have a confession.” He meets my eyes, suddenly serious. “The night of the Carrington Event, I had been reflecting upon my recent academic pursuits. I remember feeling—desperate, in a way. The only thing I wanted was more time. In fact, I wished for it.” Now he looks bashful. “I don’t suppose this could have factored into the reason I’m now here?”
My blood begins to churn in slow motion, my heartbeat a steady chug as realization dawns. We’d been so focused on gleaning logic from this extraordinary occurrence we hadn’t explored other avenues. We’dbothwanted something that night. I’d also made a wish. What was it? I’d been so overcome with emotion from finding out Ivernia might close and—
Give me what I need to make this place his again.
Yes, that was it.
This can’t be a coincidence. William wished for more time to focus on his studies, and then he appears at the very school he founded. Does that mean William’s wish is somehow tethered to mine? Is he what I need in order to save Ivernia? It makes his presence less of a puzzle and more of a cosmic purpose fulfilling two separate desires. And if that’s the case, we don’t need a scientifically unproven generator largely based in theory thatmightsend him back. We can wish things right. It’s so easy, it’s almost laughable.
My excitement heightens, pulse pounding with newfound reason. William is here to help fix everything that’s threatened to change in the last month. It makes sense. And it’s working. The gala washisidea. Isn’t this the sign I’d wanted? A spectacle from the universe. One that proves nothing is insignificant and maybe, justmaybe, what we do matters.
Thismatters.
“I made a wish, too.” Emotion coats my throat. “I wanted to save this place for everyone, really, but especially for my dad.”
William inches closer to me, a solemn expression etched on his face. Is this my dad’s doing? Maybe he’d sent an answer from somewhere far beyond the stars. It’s the type of unexplainable phenomenon he would have loved.
“Delaney,” William says softly. “What happened to your father?”
Time is strange. Often it feels as though my last goodbye was yesterday, but at other points it feels as if it were years ago.
I tell William everything. How my dad taught here, then at the community college until he couldn’t. The hiccups of memory. The unsuccessful drug trial. How Jared and I wanted to come home before he’d started, but it was his wish for us to stay here. It was enough to convince us everything might be okay, and we’d held on to that hope until we learned the experimental drug wasn’t working.
I stop when I feel my throat tighten.
Until last spring, I counted on consistency. As if anything were guaranteed. And then my dad’s diagnosis changed everything.
We knew the odds. I didn’t count on a miracle.
We get so many choices throughout life, but not when it comes to leaving.
William places a hand over mine. “I’m so terribly sorry.”
“I had time with him, that last summer before my junior year, but it wasn’t enough. It was like, even then I could feel him slipping away. And then I was here at school and I—I never got to say goodbye, not really. Not to the person I knew.” I run my knuckles under my eyes, catching tears as they fall. “But life isn’t fair. And his mortality isn’t some grand lesson, it just happens. We get what we get.”
He doesn’t offer me hollow comforts or vague sympathies about how it gets better. I don’t expect it either. As someone precise and direct with his words, it’s not in his nature. I guess he’s like Sumner. No false promises.
The sun begins its descent on the horizon, casting a syrupy golden glow over us. I couldn’t capture the naked beauty with my phone even if I tried, so I don’t. My lungs drink in the renewed mountain air, glacial and fortifying, tears drying into salt on my skin.
The tips of my fingers are freezing, but as I go to tuck them into my pocket, William extends a hand. An invitation. So I slide my hand into his, marveling at the spark I feel upon first contact. His pointer runs over my knuckles, and my heartbeat pulses in mythroat. It’s nice, this gentle pressure of us holding on to each other. A sturdy grasp on this reality, no matter how unusual the situation. It feels strange and different, but also like the most natural thing in the world. I’m lit from within, the glow of a thousand twinkling lights radiating outward.
“To be loved by someone who fundamentally understands who we are,” William says after a while, tone hushed, “is indeed one of the greatest fortunes we’re offered.”
23
The remainder of September foldsinto October. This is when Lake Placid’s majesty boasts its unyielding resplendence. Tourists come for leaf-peeping, cotton sweatshirts are traded for plush cashmere sweaters and wool coats and fleece-lined leggings, and students enjoy the final weeks of outdoor hikes and lazy walks before the first snowfall. Delicate woodsmoke and undercurrents of rich clove and spiced cardamom bake the air, and the dining hall offers warm cider after dinner as a seasonal treat.
Everyone finds a rhythm in their routines. Myself included. Study sessions with Analiese become few and far between, mostly due to her dedication to the paper and my “engineering project” with Sumner, though I haven’t shared my latest revelation with him or Lionel. It’s not that I doubt wishing might reverse this, it’s that IknowSumner won’t buy it. And I’m not ready to hear about all the ways I’m wrong.
We’ve collected almost every part we’ll need for the isoborometer with one exception, which led to Sumner asking Hailey for a favor. Her mother works at an aerospace parts manufacturer and agreed to ship us a specific durable and heat-resistant spring. And with Lionel’s laptop back up and running, we discover we can getaway with engineering the base—even though Sumner still believes we’re getting ahead of ourselves.
