“What does it mean?” she asked irritably.
“Those were the sounds I heard when I was made. When I was born.”
“I don’t understand.”
Turning my body toward her, I touched my fingertips to her neck and felt her fast pulse. I tried to use my energy to calm her down. “Evey, they’re calling me back.”
“You’re dying,” she said immediately. It wasn’t a question. She already knew.
“I think so.”
“But you’re responding to the medication. Maybe a doctor or a specialist can help you.”
“No, Evey.” I pulled her head into my chest. “Not this time, my girl.”
She pulled away and scowled. “No, I won’t let this happen. We have to try.”
What I knew that I couldn’t explain to her was that the sounds I’d heard calling me back were not asking for permission. I didn’t have a choice. I was silenced by whatever had created me.
“Evelyn, listen to me, when I’m gone, you won’t remember any of this. You’ll go on.”
“You’ve said that already. But I don’t want to go on without you.”
“You won’t know anything else. You won’t remember. Believe me.”
“What if I do?”
“You won’t.” I couldn’t bear to see her like this. I wanted to end it all right there, but I was a coward. “I should not have done this to you.”
“What will happen to your soul when you’re gone? Will I see you again?” she asked.
“I don’t know if I have a soul, Evey.”
Shaking her head, she stood and ran inside the loft. On the other side of the door, she yelled, “Yes, you do, you bastard.”
She didn’t speak to me for the rest of the day. Instead, she worked on her speech for Brooklyn’s wedding.
At dinner, I asked, “Do you want to read it to me to practice?”
“No thanks. I need to get used to being alone.”
“Evey…”
“You’re giving up. Don’t talk to me.”
“I’m not doing anything,” I argued.
“Exactly. I’m going out to pick up my dress at the seamstress’s.”
“I’m going with you.”
She shot me a derisive look. “You’re exhausted, Lucian. Just stay here. I don’t want to be around you anyway.”
“I have to. I still need to protect you.”
“You couldn’t protect a puppy at this point.”
Ouch.
