SAGE
The boys’ voices woke me.
My body was tucked into a ball in the back seat, exhausted from the exertion of making it to the Jaguar. Ollie had curled up on the floor board below me. I hadn’t moved from my position for what felt like hours, and my legs ached to stretch out between the driver and passenger seats.
But something about the tone of the boys’ conversation made me stay still. I could only see the side profile of Jack and the back of Beckett’s head.
“Did you give her the bracelet?”
“Yes.”
“Did she like it?”
“She put it on.”
Jack’s hand stayed clamped to the steering wheel, head facing forward.
“I wonder where it is now,” said Beckett. “Did you see it anywhere before we left?”
“No.”
Your dad has it, I thought. I didn’t even attempt to say it. No point.
“Your leg gonna be okay, man?” Jack said. “We need to get that cleaned up.”
“It’s fine.” Beckett sighed and rubbed his hand over his head. “I take back my challenge. I don’t mind green skin. But if she stays this angry for very much longer, you can have her.”
Beckett chuckled a couple of times at his own joke, but the laughter turned into something heavier, more choked and jerky. He sobbed, as silently as he could.
Jack shifted uncomfortably, then reached out and rested his hand on Beck’s shoulder, squeezing.
Beckett took a deep inhale. “I just never thought it would end this way, you know? … I really did love her … I do love her. I know she’s still in there.”
Jack moved his hand from Beckett’s shoulder down to the gear shift. “Believe what you want, Beck.”
“Don’t you see how she’s engaging with us? She covered herself in that blanket and let us lead her down the elevator without a fight. She climbed into the car. She’s in there, Jack.”
“That doesn’t mean a thing when her body deteriorates.”
I contained a shudder at the reality of my fate. Jack was right about that. It didn’t matter. Who cares that I could think inside this body? If it degraded to nothing, my thoughts couldn’t get out anyway. I was trapped.
My mind flickered to that little island town again. If only I could talk. I’d tell Beckett and Jack to take me to that town with Finn. Finn and I could die there together, in peace. Those people would accept us. I know they would. That old man in the fishing boat, he’d scatter my ashes in the ocean for me.
“It doesn’t mean we can’t hope,” Beckett replied. “Or that we stop trying to reach her in the meantime.”
Jack shrugged. “Cunningham may have a way.” But I could tell, by the flat tone of his voice, the comment was only for Beckett’s benefit, not because he believed it.
“Do you think she’s in pain?”
Jack shifted in his chair again, rubbed the back of his neck. “I hope not. I don’t know.”
Beckett hit his fist on the dash of the car, his emotions rolling back in.
“I’d do anything … anything to bring her back.” He punched the dash again then dropped his head in his hands, resting his eyes on his palms for a long time.
“You remember Mom, at the end?” Beckett said.
Jack’s voice, stiff: “Yes.”
“You’ve got to promise me something. If Sage … if she …” Beckett’s voice cracked. “If she doesn’t make it … we’ve got to talk about her. We can’t stop talking and let ourselves forget. It can’t be like Mom.” Beckett looked away from Jack, out the window. “When we were thirteen, you stopped talking about her.”
A heaviness hung in the air of the car’s cabin. Unspoken words from so long ago.
A lump settled in my throat, and again, guilt washed over me. I felt ashamed for questioning Beckett’s loyalty toward me. Jack was right. He’d do anything for me.
At the mansion, I was about to kill myself. Beckett stopped me.
In the hotel, Jack was ready to kill me. Beckett stopped him.
Beckett loved me even more than I loved myself. How was that possible?
How far could this carry—these acts of service that Beckett kept rendering, these actions that proved him faithful, time and time again? Were they enough wipe out my hurt from the three-year long lie he’d lived on the farm?
And then, a truth returned to me, one from the island that I’d realized when Beck had sacrificed himself to the modwrogs for my safety.
Sometimes people lie because they love you.
Was that the reason Beckett had lied to me for all those years? Was it to protect me? Make things better for me?
Up to now, I was so hurt, so betrayed, that I wasn’t even able to entertain the idea as a possibility. Now, though, as I faced the deterioration of my body and the reality of my impending death, thoughts flashed across my mind with more clarity. I had a more holistic view of my life, and the lives of others, and how we all intertwined and braided together.
Beckett lied because he loved you.
I let the warmth of this realization settle over my body like a comforting blanket.
I also felt able to appreciate Jack’s loyalty to me as well. He aimed that gun on me only because he promised me he would. I saw the torment in his eyes; I knew he didn’t want to do it. And yet he had. For me.
This, too, was an act of love.
They both loved me, in their own ways. Different, but both beautiful.
I knew the love I felt from both of them would bring me comfort in the coming weeks. And I hoped that when the point came, and I could remember nothing else about myself, that I would still somehow be able to feel and know this love.
I had hoped the same for Finn, hadn’t I? That he could feel my love, even when nothing else would penetrate his unreachable barrier?
It seems that even then, I’d known.
Love envelops all.