CHAPTER FIFTEEN

I’m not on the floor anymore. Someone’s tucked me under the covers in a bed. The room is dark and quiet.

The psych ward again?

Apprehension sends my heart racing.

Voices nearby speak in hushed tones. Hannah. Crosby.

“Is she going to be okay?” Hannah asks.

He tells her I will, in fact, be fine.

Good to know.

My body is leaden. Sitting up is impossible. My eyes adjust to the darkness, and I realize I’m in our suite. Someone has drawn the curtains over the picture windows.

I don’t even have the energy to want my life back. Has the fight gone out of me so soon? I’ve only been here a day. Then again, maybe I’ve never been anywhere else, and this is all that has ever been.

Get up. You’re clearly losing your damn mind.

This time I manage a louder groan.

“She’s awake,” Hannah says.

Someone switches on a lamp, bathing the space in a warm glow.

Crosby sits down in a chair next to me. “You gave everybody a good scare.”

“What happened?” I croak.

“Remember yesterday when I mentioned link-bursts?”

“That was a link-burst?” My head throbs. I rub my eyes in an effort to unfuzz the room. “What the hell? Why didn’t you warn me? All you said was that they make you a little queasy.”

“Usually they do. A reaction like yours … ” He shakes his head. “It’s one in a million.”

“I guess I hit the jackpot, then.” I struggle to sit up.

Hannah opens the curtains before joining Crosby at my bedside. She helps prop me up with some extra pillows.

“What exactly are link-bursts, anyway?” I ask Crosby. “You never really said much, beyond ‘it’s a burst of energy.’”

Hannah shrugs. “I’ve never seen one.”

Crosby sits back, getting comfortable in his seat. “When we die, a thread of energy remains connected to the living world. Following me so far?”

Hannah and I nod in unison.

“Those we are closest to are tuned in to our energy, creating a harmonization on the same frequency. This harmonization is what we call love. When we die, their energy seeks out what’s missing. In the immediate aftermath of death, the pain of the people closest to us can transmit across that thread. The bursts usually leave you feeling light-headed or queasy. The worst episodes can knock you flat for a while.”

How long have I been out? I drag a heavy arm to my face to inspect my bracelet.

“Don’t worry about that.” Crosby takes my wrist and lays my arm back down on the bed. “Did you see anything? Flashes of family or friends?”

I collapse back against the pillows. “Someone was telling my mom and dad I died. They were in the hospital, I think. My friends were all there.”

Crosby nods. “The worst cases can be accompanied by visions.”

“If you had told me link-bursts could be that bad—”

“You’d still be with Kay, because you would have been even more freaked out.”

“Is this because of that procedure? Whatever they did to me?”

“No, the link-burst is a completely different thing.”

A thick haze muddies my thoughts. I try to shake off the fog, but it won’t lift. “It came out of nowhere.”

“That’s how they happen. No warning. And they can come at any time, without relation to the timing of the triggering event in the living world.”

“I’m not going to have another one, am I?”

“You shouldn’t."

“Gee, that’s comforting.”

“If it does happen, it won’t be anywhere near as bad. I promise. Have you been working on the three A’s?”

“The what?”

“Adapt, accept, acknowledge?”

“Oh, that. Yeah, I’ve totally been working on it.”

Crosby’s expression turns stern. “Dez … ”

“No lectures right now, okay? I just want to get vertical again.” I force myself to sit up. “I think I’ve been knocked on my ass enough for one twenty-four hour period.”

“Let’s take things nice and slow.” Crosby treats me like I’m made of glass as he helps me up.

My legs hang over the side of the bed. “If I haven’t shattered into a million pieces yet, I don’t think I’m going to.”

At least the room’s stopped spinning.

“Okay, tough girl. How do you feel?”

“Not great, but it beats the fetal position.”

Crosby turns to Hannah. “Can you go find Franklin and let him know Dez is up?”

“Sure.” The door closes behind her.

I’m torn between my lingering resentment and my desperate need for comfort. “I’m already so tired of this.” It’s a struggle to get the words past the grapefruit-sized lump in my throat.

“Tired of what?” Crosby moves to sit next to me on the edge of the bed.

“All of it.” I lean against the stack of pillows. “I just want it to stop. I want normal back.”

“This is the new normal. It’s what you have to work on accepting.”

“I want to go home,” I say, half wishing, half demanding.

“Home doesn’t exist for you anymore, sweetie. This is your reality, and there’s no going back.”

“Is this some retribution for not believing? Is that it? The faithful are welcomed with open arms, but the skeptics get a good kick when they’re down?”

“It doesn’t work that way.”

I look up at the ceiling. “Why are you doing this to me? Some petty revenge for not believing in you?” My hands tighten into fists. My voice quavers, escalating to a shout. “If you’re in charge, you made me this way, so it’s really your fault! You ever think of that?” My vision grows watery.

“Try to remember this place isn’t forever,” Crosby says. “You’re only in a holding pattern. You’ll see your mom and dad, your family, all your friends again. It’ll just be a while.”

“So I get to wait around for everyone I care about to die? What kind of person do you think I am?”

“A girl in a lot of pain who thinks she’s alone.” He points toward the door. “But when you go out there, you’ll find fifteen other kids from all walks of life who know exactly how you feel.”

My back stiffens. “Fourteen. One of them is a complete jackass who doesn’t seem to understand what it is to be a decent human being.”

He raises his eyebrows. “Got him figured out already, huh?”

“Some people are open books. The fact that you know exactly who I’m talking about without a name or description proves my point.”

Crosby ignores my jab. “You ready to go?”

“I guess so.”

His hand supports my elbow as I wobble to my feet. “Let’s get out of here.”