Endless

Sisters Forever

“Are we gonna get to see Mom?” Darcy asked me tearfully.

A lump jammed my throat, and I shook my head. Darcy and I were sitting on the window seat in her bedroom, our hands clasped between us, while Krista and Liam perched on the bed, Fisher hovering near the bottom post. He had insisted on being here for Darcy, so Joaquin had stayed behind at the clinic to take his place with the recovery effort. We had walked back to our house to deliver the news away from the madness, and Darcy had run right upstairs crying after hearing the basics. Both she and Liam had finally calmed down—his reaction had been to try to punch Fisher in the face, which hadn’t gone well. Now Darcy had just asked the question I’d been dreading more than any except for one.

“Mom moved on. A long time ago.” I took a breath, the pain of this hitting me all over again, and sat amazed at how it seemed to hurt worse each time instead of getting better. “So, you believe me?”

She sniffled and looked down. “He killed us, didn’t he?” she asked slowly. “That’s how we died—how we got here. Steven Nell killed us.”

I nodded, tears spilling down my cheeks.

“Oh my god, Rory.”

Darcy flung her arms around me and collapsed. She sobbed, her whole skinny body convulsing as her tears wet my shoulder. I cried as well, feeling the devastation of what had happened to us like a fresh stab wound to the chest. I don’t know how long we sat like that, with Liam, Krista, and Fisher silently, respectfully averting their eyes, but I do know that by the time we were done, I was exhausted. She released me, and I leaned sideways against the window, spent.

“So…wait,” Liam said, speaking for the first time in a few minutes. “You guys were murdered?”

I nodded. “It’s a long story.”

“That’s intense.” Liam’s brow knit. “How did I die?”

“You drowned, man. Undertow got you.” Fisher gave Liam’s shoulder an awkward pat.

“Please. There’s no way,” Liam said. “I’d never drown.”

“It’s the truth,” Fisher said. “If you hadn’t become a Lifer, I would have been your usher, so I saw the whole thing when I slapped you on the back before.”

“You saw my death?” Liam asked, blanching.

“Just one of the many special powers we Lifers have,” Krista said sourly.

“So how did you die?” Liam asked her.

Krista shifted atop the floral bedspread, tugging the hem of her white dress down further over her thighs. “I did something stupid,” she said, pursing her lips.

Liam looked around at the rest of us. “Like drowning?” he said lightly, clearly trying to put her at ease.

“No.” She glared at him. “I wanted to get my ex-boyfriend’s attention, so I took a bunch of pills, but I didn’t want to die.” Her eyes trailed off to the side as if she couldn’t bare to look anyone in the eye right then. “I just…took too many.”

“Whoa,” Darcy said.

“What about you?” Liam asked Fisher. Darcy and I both turned to look at him, curious.

“It was an accident on the football field,” he said. “I laid a hit on this guy, and bam!” He slapped one fist into a flat hand. “Neck snapped. Done.”

Liam whistled, and I looked Darcy in the eye. He’d just relayed that news like he was going over random stats of a game. Darcy blew out a breath.

“So what happened to him? To Nell?” Darcy asked me.

“You don’t remember?”

“I remember now that he was here…but how did he get here?”

I cleared my throat. “Well…I kind of killed him.”

“What?” she blurted.

“You killed a guy?” Liam asked, sliding to the edge of the bed so that his long legs dangled down. “How?”

His eyes were bright—kind of disturbingly bright considering the subject matter. But he had to be a good person to be a Lifer, right?

I turned my shoulder to him and concentrated on Darcy while I told the story.

“I was…well, basically I was dying.” I paused and took a breath, hating the act of remembering this. “But I got his knife away from him and I…”

I trailed off, unable to find a way to complete the sentence that didn’t sound like something from a bad horror flick. I jammed it into his stomach? No. I gutted him? No. Instead, I stared out Darcy’s window at the house across the street. The gray house I’d been obsessed with when we first moved here, certain that someone was watching us from its windows. And, of course, I had been right. Tristan had been watching me. Keeping tabs on the new potential Lifer. A horrible, sour burning spread through my stomach as I remembered the day he’d taken me there—showed me the spot from where he’d watched. The day I’d first tried to kiss him and he’d rejected me.

The house was still now. Dark. Like everything else on this damn island.

“Wow. Rory, can we just talk for a second about how badass that is?” Darcy exclaimed, her face still shimmering with tears.

I flinched, my skin tightening. There’d been a time, not so long ago, when it had felt badass. When I’d felt proud of myself for ridding the Earth of the man who killed fourteen girls and took my family as his swan song. But now, it no longer felt that way.

“I don’t know,” I said.

“Are you kidding me? Just think about the giant favor you did for the world,” Darcy said. “Right now there’s some random girl running around playing soccer or hooking up with her boyfriend or shopping with her mom, and she’s only doing it because you offed the asshole who was coming after her.”

“She’s right, you know,” Krista said. “You’re a hero, Rory.”

I tried to smile, but I realized, as Darcy eyed me proudly, why I felt so conflicted. Because when I took Steven Nell’s life, I hadn’t been thinking about the random girls I was saving or even the girls he already murdered. I’d been thinking about me. I’d been thinking about my family and what he’d done to us. And I’d been pissed. I’d slain the man out of revenge, plain and simple. And there was nothing pure or heroic about that. Did I even deserve to be a Lifer?

“What about Dad?” Darcy asked, wiping her eyes and sucking in a loud breath. “Where’s he?”

And there was the question I’d been dreading the most. She remembered him, now that she was a Lifer. A few days ago, when he’d moved on, I’d mentioned his name and she’d looked at me like I was crazy. Now her eyes were filled with guarded hope. I didn’t want to tell her—didn’t need to tell her just yet—about how wrong things were. I decided to keep my answers short.

“He’s moved on.”

“So Mom and Dad are in the Light.”

She didn’t ask it, just stated it. And I didn’t contradict her. My eyes met Fisher’s. He cocked one brow. I shot him a silencing look that I hoped Krista picked up on.

“We’re never going to see them again?” she asked, her voice breaking.

I cleared my throat. “No.”

She wiped her eyes. “Okay. This is a lot.”

“I know,” I said. “But the good news is, we’re going to be together. Lifers never move on. We’ll never have to say good-bye.”

Darcy’s eyes lit up, and she reached for my hand. “Really?”

I smiled. “Really.”

We sat there, clutching each other’s fingers and looking out at the rain. Back home, before we died, Darcy and I had been estranged for months—a stalemate over a guy I could barely even remember. She used to love stomping around the house, reminding me and my dad about how very soon she was going to graduate and how she’d be “outta here” without looking back. Then, I couldn’t have imagined sitting here with her like this, in peaceful, companionable silence. It was amazing how quickly everything had changed.

“I don’t know,” she said finally. “Do I really want to live with you forever?”

Fisher chuckled. I cracked up laughing and shoved her shoulder. It was a classic Darcy line, and I was glad to see she still had it in her. I knew that I should tell her what had been happening on the island—that my father and others were suffering needlessly in the Shadowlands and we needed to figure out how to get them to the Light—but I didn’t want to spoil this moment. The truth of her new existence and the news that she would never see our parents again were enough to take in on one day. I didn’t have to scare the crap out of her as well.

For now, I was going to let her process what she’d learned, and I was going to selfishly hold on to this feeling that was sprouting up inside me. This delicate, fluttering white hope that somehow everything was going to be okay.

There was a sudden flash at the corner of my vision—something was moving in the house across the street. I flinched. Then thunder rumbled in the distance, and I unclenched. It had been nothing more than a remote flash of lightning. The storm messing with my head again.

“What I don’t get is, why didn’t you tell me this before?” Darcy asked. “You’ve known for…how long?”

“A week,” I admitted.

“But she couldn’t have told you,” Fisher said. “And you can’t tell any of the visitors. If you do, you damn them to the Shadowlands—and you get sent to Oblivion.”

“Seriously? That’s a bit harsh,” Darcy said, looking over her shoulder at him.

He shrugged. “I don’t make the rules.”

“So, basically, if I want to relegate some asshole to hell I just have to tell him he’s dead?” Liam asked.

Fisher whacked the back of his head so hard his hair stuck up.

“Ow! It was just a joke!” Liam snapped, his face turning bright red.

“We don’t joke about stuff like that,” Krista said seriously. “Especially Oblivion.”

Liam shoved himself up and paced toward the closet. “I just found out I’m dead, okay? Excuse me for trying to lighten the mood.”

“Look, it’s just that there’s some history around here with this stuff. History no one wants to see repeated,” I said. “There was a Lifer named Jessica a while back who decided all the visitors deserved to know what was going on, so she told them. Just went around town, knocking on doors and spilling the truth.”

“So what happened?” Darcy asked.

“She got every last one of them a one-way ticket to the Shadowlands,” Fisher said grimly. “All those innocent people, damned forever.”

“For doing nothing wrong,” I added.

Lightning flashed again, and Darcy and Liam looked pale. Krista was about to say something when heavy footsteps pounded up the stairs, cutting her off. The floorboards in the hallway groaned, and there was a thudding knock on the door.

“Come in,” Darcy said weakly.

Joaquin opened the door, keeping one hand on the knob and one on the doorjamb. “You okay?” he asked her.

“I’ll live,” she said, then gave a quiet ironic laugh.

“Good.” Joaquin’s eyes flicked to me. “Mayor’s called a Lifer meeting at the police station. We gotta go.”

I looked at Darcy, and she endeavored to smile. “Duty calls?”

“Yeah,” I said, my stomach curling into knots. “But there are a few more things I’m gonna have to tell you on the way.”

So much for giving her time.