I can’t do this again.
Not this.
It’s too much.
Finn sees my expression and catches me when I fall against him, limp and discouraged. He always catches me.
“Your mind is an amazing thing,” he assures me. “It’s a gift, not a curse.”
He knows me so well. He knew what I’d been thinking.
“Are you real?” I ask in a whisper, as my eyes shutter closed.
He smiles.
That’s the last thing I see.
Then it’s blissfully, blessedly black.
Thank you, St. Michael.
When I wake, it’s dark. The room is shadowy, but I realize very quickly that I’m no longer in Finn’s room. I’m in a different bed, in my pajamas, with clean sheets wrapped around my hand.
I stare at the ceiling, at the walls, at the shadows, and then I stare at the figure sitting beside my bed, hidden in the dark.
“Finn?” I ask quietly, expecting it to be my brother.
I don’t expect the voice that answers.
“Calla-Lily.”
Dare.
Of course. Finn can’t be here, because Finn is dead.
I swallow as Dare leans forward, as the square of his jaw falls into the moonlight, as his eyes glint.
“Are you real?”
I whisper.
He smiles his Dare Me grin.
“I’m here, aren’t I?” he answers quietly.
“That doesn’t mean anything these days.” My voice is small. “I can’t take much more, Dare. I don’t understand anything.”
“I’ve failed you,” Dare gets up from his seat and kneels next to me, his face earnest and dark and tortured. “I’ve failed you. But I’ll fix it.”
“How?” I whisper, and I don’t even ask what he was supposed to do to me. I don’t think I want to know. “How have you failed me? What have you done?”
I can’t.
I can’t know.
I can’t know or it might kill me.
My mind is a hollow reed and the breeze is blowing through it, blowing all of the pieces away. I want to chase them, but I can’t.