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“I am,” she whispers. “You just won’t always see me the same way.”

I don’t understand. I don’t want to understand.

“I need you here.” The words come out raw. “I need you with me.”

“You’ll still have me,” she says. “In the quiet. In the places we’ve been. In the moments you don’t expect.”

The snow keeps falling.

“I’m not going anywhere you can’t find me,” she whispers. “You just have to look a little differently.”

I press my face into her hair. “No.” I shake my head against her. “Please don’t do this. Don’t leave me. I don’t know who I am without you.”

Her hand shifts over my heart, and I cover it with mine. For a second, the only sound is the creek.

Then she breathes in. Small. Shallow.

“I love you,” she whispers. “Forever.”

The words settle into me, and I know I’ll hear them for the rest of my life.

My chest caves around it. The tears hit, and I don’t bother trying to stop them. I hold her against me while everything inside me starts coming apart.

“I love you,” I say it fast because I’m afraid I’m running out of room to get all of it out. “I love you, Raven. I love you so damn much.”

Her chest rises.

Falls.

I wait.

Nothing.

My whole body goes cold.

“Raven?”

I look down at her. Her eyes are closed.

“No.” My hand moves to her cheek. “No, come on. Breathe for me.”

Her skin is still warm beneath my palm. That means something. It has to mean something.

“Raven.” I lift her a little higher against me. “Sweetheart, breathe.”

The creek keeps moving. The snow keeps falling. My damn heart keeps beating.

“No.” My thumb brushes over her cheek. “No, baby. Don’t. Don’t do this.”

Her hand stays against my chest, but it isn’t holding me anymore. It’s just there. Resting heavy in a way that makes no sense because there’s almost no weight to it at all.

I stare at her mouth, waiting for it to part, waiting for that next breath to come the way it has to, because bodies breathe. People breathe. Raven breathes.

She has to.

“Raven.”

Her name breaks in my throat.