Hereafter (Shadowlands 2)

“You’ve been here longer than anyone, Tristan,” Joaquin said, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. “You know that things aren’t always what they seem. That the system can be circumvented.”

“No,” Tristan said firmly. “Not like this. Nothing like this has ever happened before. It can’t happen, J. It’s just…it’s not possible.”

They stared each other down, the wind blowing the sleeves of their shirts tight against their arms, until Joaquin finally chuckled and backed off.

“Screw this; I’m outta here,” he said, storming past me.

Krista looked away as he went by.

“So you’re really not gonna help us?” I asked Tristan, my voice nearly drowned out by the swirling of the wind.

He turned his palms out, his eyes determined but still full of sorrow. “There’s nothing to help with. This place isn’t broken, Rory. It can’t be broken.”

I pressed my lips together, hesitating. “But…Jessica broke it, didn’t she?”

An angry shadow crossed his face. “That was different,” he said fiercely. “She willingly ignored a rule, but once she did that, the mechanics worked as they were supposed to. The people who had been compromised went to the Shadowlands, as they were supposed to. You’re trying to say that the coins can be altered, that the final decision can be wrong. That can’t be.”

“But I know Aaron didn’t belong in the Shadowlands. I know it.” I looked down at my sneakers, gripping my fingertips until they hurt. It was nothing compared with the pain inside my chest. “What if we could bring them back?”

“We can’t,” Tristan said, pushing his sleeves down.

“But what if we could? What if there was a way to—”

“It wouldn’t matter anyway,” Krista interrupted. “If Tristan’s so sure they are where they’re supposed to be, then we shouldn’t bring them back.”

“Exactly,” Tristan said, his face like stone.

“But they’re not where they’re supposed to be!” I wailed.

“We can’t keep having the same conversation, Rory,” Tristan said firmly. “Trust me. Nothing’s broken, and no one is coming back.”

Suddenly, my whole body felt hollow. There would be no getting through to him, no making him understand how awful, how wrong, how desperate I felt. Something or someone had sent Aaron to the Shadowlands when he belonged in the Light. And nothing Tristan said was going to change my mind about that. He was right about only one thing: we couldn’t keep having this conversation.

“Rory,” Tristan said, taking an imploring step forward.

I instinctively backed away. “I have to go,” I said, my heart breaking along with my voice.

“But you don’t understand—”

“I have to go.”

I turned and jogged after Joaquin, the wind making me tear up. As I came around the corner of the house, my foot caught on a rock and I stumbled. From the corner of my eye, I saw a pair of dark eyes staring at me through the office window, and the second I did, the blinds snapped shut.

I shoved myself up to my feet and ran. “Joaquin!” I shouted.

He was crossing the patio out back, headed for the woods on the southwest corner of the island.

“Joaquin, stop!” I shouted again as the clouds moved in to block out the sun.

Joaquin finally paused near the tree line, but he didn’t turn around. A rumble of thunder sounded nearby as I jogged to catch up with him, shoving my knotted hair away from my face. One huge drop of rain plopped onto my cheek.

I blew out a breath, choked with anger, confusion, and despair. “What are we going to do?” I asked, my hands on my hips.

“I don’t know,” he replied simply.

“Why won’t he listen to us?” I asked.

Joaquin sighed. “You’ve gotta understand.… If Tristan admits that something is wrong, if he even starts to think about it, then he’ll have to question everything. It’s like we’re asking him to give up on his whole belief system. Without this place…without the whole ‘balance of good and evil’ thing, he has nothing.”