Ever (26 page)

“Okay, Mom. Don’t worry about me. Everything’s fine.”

“It’s not fine, Everleigh. If you have it—the gift—it’s going to be….” She turned away and her voice hitched.

“What gift did she have exactly?”

“My mother knew things before they were going to happen. She had…dreams. She told me things when I was a little girl, but after I turned eighteen, and it was obvious it had skipped me, things changed between Gram and me. There were a lot of secrets…right up until she passed.”

I scowled. I hated thinking about that day. Gram was perfectly fine until that day. “Well, I don’t know what you’re talking about. I had the low blood sugar that one day and that’s the only weird thing that’s happened lately.”

Poker face, Ever.
Mom had a lot on her plate with all the extra shifts she was picking up. I could sense that she was super worried and I didn’t want to make things worse, even though I was bursting with questions. Maybe it was time to take down Gram’s trunk from the garage shelf.

Mom moved my plate aside and searched my face, which I kept carefully neutral. Finally, she made a relieved noise and got up to pour some milk. “I probably sound crazy to you, huh? Maybe I’m just overreacting. Enjoy your dinner, Ever. It’s raw veggies for breakfast.”

I forced a chuckle. “Sounds like a plan.”

* * *

I felt a little guilty as I hopped out of my window and jogged across the street to where Jaren’s car sat idling under the street lamp. If only my mom knew how right she was. Things were getting crazier by the hour in my life, and even my “gift” didn’t seem as far-fetched as my relationship with Jaren Wilder.

“Hey, sweetheart.” He leaned over as I buckled myself in and I caught my breath as his lips brushed over mine.

I think I stepped into someone else’s life.

“Do you have it?”

I nodded. I had everything—the seed,
The Archive
, my pendant, and even the dreaming stone in my canvas backpack. He started the car and all too soon, we were back at the cemetery. Even though I was wearing my thickest sweatshirt, I shivered as we walked through the gate. My reaction had nothing to do with being cold.

Jaren reached into his backpack and pulled out the same headlamp he’d worn during our golf cart excursion to the big tree grove. He clicked it on and settled it on his head before handing another one to me. We walked in silence until we stood in front of the fountain—and Leana’s father’s final resting place.

“Where should we do it?” My hands trembled as I felt for the pouch containing the seed in my pack.

There was a rustling noise above me. I looked up to see a large, black bird perched on top of the cracked statue that sat in the fountain. “No way,” I breathed. The bird let out a low warble and then turned its head to angle its orange eye at me. Transfixed, I stared into the glowing orb.

Everything around me faded away.

* * *

“What happened?” I whispered.

“Hold my hand and I’ll show you.” The little girl looked up at me. Her small fingers curled around mine and her memories became my own, like I had lived them myself…like I was living them right now.

After the carousel ride, Daddy handed her to her mother and left. They didn’t hear from him until morning. Her mother was furious—until the police arrived the next morning. Daddy was gone, they said. He had gone to the bar
,
and then he had gotten in his car and he crashed. Now, he was dead. Mommy changed after that. Mommy said it was their fault for making Daddy so angry that night.

There was pain—so much pain. The little girl wanted to go away. She wished so hard for relief that there was a tugging and then something snapped and she floated away from her Mind and her Body. The rest of her grew up a little more, but part of her remaining detached and hurting. Eventually, she couldn’t take it anymore. She had to stop the hurting. She couldn’t—she wouldn’t—live like this any longer. The teenaged version of herself made the plan and bought the pills. Wrote the letter. Waited until the right day—the day Daddy died. April seventh. She would join him then, and she would apologize—for not being good enough for him to stay.

The little girl tugged on my hand again.

“I can’t go now. Bring me back. Please, Everleigh. You’re the only one who can save us. Hurry, please. Time is running out.”

“How?”

“You have me—there in your hand.”

I looked down, to where her hand joined mine.

But she was gone.

* * *

I was on my knees at the base of the fountain, holding my hands cupped in front of me. A deep warble sounded and the raven took flight as Jaren knelt beside me.

“What happened? I turned around and I couldn’t see you. Why is your lamp off?” Jaren clicked the button but nothing happened.

I looked at my hands, still feeling the little girl’s fingers burning into my palm. But instead of her hand, the seed pulsed there instead. In the dim light from Jaren’s headlamp, I could see a thin trickle of water leaking from a small fissure in the fountain. Without knowing why I did so, I pressed my face to the ground, feeling the wetness seeping into the earth. I followed the trail of water. It led me right to Robert Smith’s grave. This was no coincidence. I could feel it, and my crystal agreed, sending a warm pulse into my skin.

“Here.” I used one hand to scrape into the ground, the mud sinking in beneath my fingernails.

“Let me help you.” His hands were larger and made the task easier. Soon, we had a good-sized hole in the damp earth.

“Here goes nothing.” I dropped the seed into the earth, and covered it up with soil. Then I sat back on my heels and held my breath, expecting a cataclysmic reaction.

Nothing happened. Nothing at all.

“How do we know it worked?” Jaren’s voice sounded like it was spoken from far away as he chafed my dirty, icy hands.

“I don’t know.” I looked down at the mounded earth for a sign but there was nothing to signal anything had occurred—not even a twitch from my crystal. I was tired again, that deep down exhaustion was sinking in. I should have brought some of Mom’s special cookies or a slice of that cake because sugar sounded like the perfect remedy to my staggering fatigue. “What should we do now?” My voice was slurring.

“We go home. You need rest.”

“I can rest here—just for a second.” I sank down next to the fountain, finding the cold stone oddly comforting.

“Ever?” Jaren’s face was so close to mine. He was so beautiful—a specimen of male perfection. I felt my lips curl into a smile even as my eyes fluttered closed. Then his arms went around me and he picked me right up off the ground. I had no strength to resist so I rested my cheek against his hard, warm chest.

He roused me when we got back to my house and helped me get back into my room.

“Don’t leave,” I murmured, falling into my bed.

He pulled the covers over me and pressed his lips to my forehead. I don’t remember dreaming that night, but I hoped I wasn’t waking into a nightmare. The morning brought with it the day I had been dreading for weeks. April seventh.

CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

It’s D-Day

J
aren and I were parked around the corner from Leana’s house. It was as grand as Kamryn’s but without the columns and long entryway. Leana’s car was parked in the driveway. There had been no activity for several hours. Not outside the car, anyway.

I wish I could say that my exploration of Jaren’s mouth was continuing, but instead, we were scouring
The Archive
, searching for any information about what we had done. Or what we were supposed to do next. I reviewed the section about totem animals for Jaren, and then I skimmed the part that described the mystical properties of plants and herbs—but there was no explanation of how we were supposed to know if what we did had worked.

“There’s literally nothing about planting seeds. Are you sure we did the right thing?”

“I’m sure.” I was starting to second-guess myself, but I didn’t want to let on.

“Uh oh.” Jaren sat up straighter in the driver’s seat.

“What?” I followed his gaze. Leana’s front door was swinging shut and she was headed to her car dressed in running gear and a black baseball cap.

“Crap.”

Leana started her car and backed it out slowly, but as she hit the street, she gunned the engine and whizzed past us at an alarming speed.

We took off in pursuit of Leana but I knew where she was headed. It was just after dusk and the place was deserted as we pulled into the small lot at the end of Point Park. Unlike my dream, she didn’t spend any time in her car. Instead, she emerged with her purse under her arm and looked around like she was afraid someone would see her. Then she took off toward the lighthouse.

“What do we do?” I looked at Jaren wildly.

“We have to go after her. What if she’s planning to jump?”

Leana was fast—she was on the track team for a reason. Jaren and I were both breathing hard when we caught up to her. She slipped under the caution tape and moved out of our view.

“We have to stop her. I can’t let her do this.”

I was on the move when I heard a voice call out. “Hey! Get away from there. Don’t you see the signs?”

“It’s the park security guard,” Jaren said, low. “I’ll stall him.”

“Okay. I—I’ll do something to stop her.” I had no idea what I was going to do or say to Leana Smith to get her to listen to me, but I wasn’t giving up on her the way she had given up on herself.

“Ever.” Jaren grabbed my arm. “Be careful!” He pressed his mouth to mine in a brief, hard kiss that made me feel invincible. I scrambled after Leana as Jaren turned back to deal with the guard.

I stepped carefully over the crumbling rock and, in the faded light, I could make out Leana’s silhouette framed by the ocean mist. She stood silent and still, like a statue, save for the tendrils of hair that rippled in the wind behind her. I took another step, and my crystal began to do its thing, humming a plea for me to stop. My eyes went out of focus and I realized Leana and I weren’t alone.

A small hand grasped mine once more, but this time I wasn’t in a dream or some kind of alternate reality. I was right here, at the park, watching a girl I had grown up with stand on the edge of a precipice, deciding whether or not she should fall. I looked down at the little girl and she smiled at me, her eyes full of the kind of wisdom I wouldn’t expect from a child her age.

“Thank you, Ever.”

She let my hand go and walked to Leana’s motionless form. I watched, afraid to interrupt whatever was happening. The little girl paused for a moment and looked back at me, waving a hand as if to say goodbye.

“Wait!” I cried, suddenly afraid that the worst was about to happen. Then the little girl stepped into Leana. It was like watching two holograms merge into one. Leana’s silhouette flashed a brilliant green for a moment or two. From somewhere behind me, I heard the distant call of a raven. I held my breath.

Leana moved at last, her slender arm reaching into her purse. She withdrew a small, brown bottle from her purse and stared at it. Then she shook her head, like she was clearing the fog from it. With the practiced ease of a varsity pitcher, Leana wound up and let the bottle fly. It arced into the air and then plummeted straight down to the sea below.

I fell to my knees in the bushes, tears streaming down my face. A few seconds later, I heard the crunch of Leana’s tennis shoes meeting the gravel as she made her way back to her car.

* * *

“Everleigh, there you are!” Jaren’s relief sounded only partly contrived as I made my way back to the parking lot on legs that felt like they were made of rubber.

“Miss, the park is closed. You and your boyfriend need to head home now,” the guard admonished, shining his flashlight into my face.

“I’m sorry. I—I got lost looking for a bathroom.” I ducked my head to avoid the man’s assessing gaze.

“The public restrooms are locked now.” He waved the light and it was making my head pound.

“Sorry for the trouble.” Jaren put his arm around my waist and his touch infused me with enough energy to make it back to the car—barely.

“I need sugar,” I complained, images of Mom’s chocolate chip and Nutella cookies flickering in my brain.

“On it.” He pulled a couple of packages of candy from the dash and handed them to me. I was on bag number two before I was able to tell him what had happened.

“So it’s over now?” He turned back onto my street.

“I think so.”

“Get some rest, sweetheart.” He brushed his lips against my forehead.

When I woke up the next morning, I was overjoyed in a way that made no sense when you happened to wake up before the sun rose. But it was 5:13. No fours. No sevens. It was 5:13 a.m. and the sun was coming up to signal a new day.

At last.