Chapter 31

The air smells like burnt leaves for the first time this fall as I walk home from school. Wind pulls at a few loose strands at the top of my braid; I’ve started wear-ing my hair just like Akasha did. My denim jacket is not quite warm enough today. The weather has turned for the year.

I round the corner on to my street thinking about how satisfying it feels to step on a perfectly crisp dry leaf and watch it crumble to pieces under my foot. It’s almost as good as popping bubble wrap.

I turn up the concrete path to my front stairs and see a small manila parcel on the welcome mat at the center of our veranda. I smile knowing that in Nelson, even a downtown adjacent street like mine is safe enough to leave a parcel on the step — unlike my summer accommodation in Vancouver.

The parcel has writing in black felt marker. As soon as I see my name, I recognize Bryce’s handwriting. I sit down on the porch swing and work my fingernail into the corner of the parcel, prying up the seal. The fact that Bryce has remembered my birthday is reason enough to celebrate. Whatever he’s put in this parcel is incidental.

Inside layers of tissue paper are taped frustratingly tight. I tear and tear shredding the tissue until I get to the lump at the heart of the package. There is a piece of paper taped around the outside of the small card-board box. A letter, no doubt.

I carefully peel up one corner of the tape to free the piece of paper. It’s an envelope. I’ve always been the kind of kid to open the present before the card — unless Mom is standing over my shoulder to make me follow etiquette. Today I’m alone, so the box comes first, no contest. I work the cardboard lid up off the bottom of the box and reveal a brassy-gold egg-shaped pendant on a patina-stained chain. Is this what I think it is?

I pick up the pendant and, sure enough, there is a small, flat disk in the middle that I can push out on a hinge to reveal two photos. Akasha and Sanjay, right where I left them in Vancouver. I may never get further proof that Akasha is part of my cosmic past, but I know it in my heart and that’s what matters to me.

Now I need to read the letter. If he’s giving me Akasha’s locket, Radhika consented. This letter better tell me why.

Vancouver, October 22nd

Hey Katelyn,

I wanted this to be a surprise. I hope you’re reading this with a smile on your face. Mom sat on the fence for a while before I finally convinced her that this locket is really yours. She believed me, but she just didn’t want to part with it. She’s all gushy talking about us being destined to meet and … well, she’s a romantic at heart.

Anyway, I promised her you’ll take care of it. Wear it if you want to, but I hope you’ll think of me whenever you look at it. Mom says I look just like my great-great-grandfather. It’s hard to say for sure with an old photo and such an old-fashioned look.

I’m still hoping to come back to Nelson with Mom in the spring. I know it’s a long time. I guess we’re lucky we’ve got email and Skype. Text me when you get this so we can do a call.

Love,

Bryce

I don’t waste a moment before fastening the clasp at the back of my neck. The tiny click feels like that triumphant moment when you fit in the last piece in a very large and complicated puzzle.