They start dragging me out and I hear other people, loud and scared, rushing in for Meg.
I look up at my friends, my two favorite people in the world, and then, everything goes black.
CHAPTER 57
Now
I dreamt of Heller after he died.
I dreamt we were in a house full of people, of strangers, talking and laughing and pretending to have a good time. Because everyone but Heller knew it was his last day alive. We glanced at each other wondering,Who will tell him?But no one did.
I greeted him with a hug and he felt solid and sure. But he was distracted and busy, being pulled between groups and into conversations.
I let him go, knowing the night was long. There would be time to talk, there was always time to talk.
But as dawn peeked through the skylight, he slipped out through the front door. I moved to the window and watched him walk away, down a dark street until he disappeared. There was no more time to talk. Not then. Not ever.
And I turned to the other people in the room, the strangers whose faces had become familiar.
I smiled, at ease. I was ready, finally, to press on.
CHAPTER 58
Now
When I wake up, my throat is sandpaper, raw and scratching. Breathing hurts. So does swallowing. Saliva forms, but it tastes wrong, like my body shouldn’t be making it.
I blink my eyes open and all I can see is the night sky, a smattering of stars soaring above me. It’s peaceful. Quiet. Profound. But then everything else comes into focus.
The flames.
The ambulance.
The cop cars.
The sirens.
The kids.
Thekids.
They gawk and stare at the beloved dining hall as dark cloudy smoke billows from the windows. Fire with its blue edges and its radiating heat consumes the place. Some of the campers cry, tucking their chins in each other’s necks.
They shouldn’t be here. They shouldn’t be watching.
Where are Stu and Mellie? They should be shielding them from the scene.
But that’s when I remember that they’re the ones who did this.
---
“She’s up,” Mom says, her voice urgent and worried. I try to swivel my head but everything hurts. “Shh, sweets,” she says. “You don’t have to move. It’s over now. It’s over.”
I can hear her choking on her sobs, trying to stay strong, and I sense Dad close by, too. His tall presence standing at her side.
“Can we see her?” Ava’s voice is small and wavering but it’s hers nonetheless.
I snap my eyes open and see her standing in the door with Imogen. They’re both wearing the outfits they wore to banquet, but their faces are covered in soot, ash staining their arms. Imogen’s hair is tied in a sloppy ponytail and Ava’s platinum mane is a dirty shade of gray.
