Page 77 of Firefly Effect

I do a double take when I get to an empty spot on the shelf. At first, I assume it’s just missing a section of books until I look deeper and find a framed piece of paper pushed to the very back. I’m not wearing my reading glasses, so I can’t make out the words.

I reach for the frame and pull it toward me, confirming what I’ve already suspected. A familiar poem in familiar font. But how did Evie find it? Swallowing my surprise, I read the words I already know by heart.

A Flicker of Light

By Foster Pruitt

What happens when a light burns out?

Does it spark back to life or die?

That night, I heard a terrified shout

When a flicker lit up her cries

She died under a pale-blue moon

Bioluminescence bled her path

With blood-soaked hair and lake-shone shoes

Weapon placed in a moonlit bath

A final breath squeezed between bones

Her small body, so limp, now serene

A moment too late, her light flown

Yet somehow, I knew she was free

I didn’t even notice the shower had stopped until the door to the bathroom creaks open. Evie walks out wearing one of her favorite yellow graphic tees paired with white cotton shorts. Her hair is still damp, and she’s wearing her glasses. Completely transfixed by her, I almost forget what I’m holding until her gaze drops to my hands.

“You found my dirty little secret.” She stands beside me and takes the frame delicately from my hands. “Foster wrote this.” Her eyes find mine. “Carley’s brother. I found it one day while scouring the internet for information on him. This was all I found, and I guess it brought me peace to know he was still alive out there somewhere.”

My heart beats hard in my chest. “Your dirty little secret, huh?”

She smiles and sets the poem back on the shelf. “Isn’t it a little weird that I obsessed over finding him then framed the only proof of his existence?”

I take her hand in mine, loving the way her cheeks go a shade darker. “After what you went through, I think it’s perfectly acceptable, Evie. I’d think it would be weird if you didn’t try to track him down.”

She tilts her head, offering me a grateful smile. “You’re not the least bit jealous that I’m keeping something from my first-ever crush?”

Chuckling, I shake my head. “After last night? No.” I wink, and she blushes even more. “I’m sure the opposite is true too. I’m sure Foster looked you up.”

She frowns, a glimmer of anger flashing in her eyes. “He’s had fourteen years to find me. Trust me—that never happened.” Then she shrugs. “It’s not like I even really knew the guy. It was a little-girl crush for reasons I can’t even remember. I just want to know that he’s okay.”

Wrapping her in a hug, I try to ignore the wild stampede in my chest. If there’s one thing worse than going through tragedy, it’s coming out of it alone. Evie has been so strong for so damn long, and I want her to know she doesn’t have to carry the weight of that night alone anymore. I’ll be here for her however she needs me to be.

“I better get going. I’ll call you tonight after Lucy goes to bed. Maybe we can stop by Firefly tomorrow night for dinner?”

She slides her arms around my back. “I would love that.”

I leave her with a slow kiss and a smile. “Me, too, Evie girl.”

As I turn away, my eyes catch on the poem one last time before I walk out her apartment door, down the spiral staircase, and through the front door of the bar. All the while, the words from the poem spin round and round in my head like a record.

I was nineteen when I wrote that poem. It just came to life one day when I was sitting in the library, studying the biological makeup of fireflies. There was something about my studies when paired with the inspiration of Dr. Rohls’s Waterfall Effect story and my yearning to stay connected to Carley, somehow, some way.

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