Page 145 of Fated

There were so many clues. If only I’d looked for them.

But I’m here, my eyes closed, the dark blanketing me. The weight of the watch heavy in my hand. The weight of the words in the note just as heavy.

I take a deep breath, full of the cold winter air and the stillness of the night, and I let the ticking of the watch rock me asleep.

As I fall, winding down with the slow heartbeat of the watch, I feel the slow ebb and flow of a gentle tide.

I think of Aaron. Of his arms around me. Of his hands sliding over my salty, sand-covered skin. I think of him whispering my name, “Fi.” And then the light in his eyes, right before he kissed me.

For years I believed I didn’t want my dreams to come true.

But that was before I had dreams that were worth fighting for.

It was before Christmas Eve, before the gunshot, before Max proposed, before Buttercup gave me the watch, and before I dreamed.

Now, as the watch echoes the beat of my heart, I have one single prayer.

One prayer that crashes against the shore of my heart, beating out a single desperate plea.

Dream.

Dream.

Dream.

Let me dream of him.

One more time.

I wake up to heat, to humidity, to the rumble of an earthquake.

54

I tripand slam to my knees. The ground bucks beneath me. I grasp at the sharp blades of grass and the hot sand as the earth shakes and rolls.

The whistling pines shudder and sway, and their needles hiss in the jittering. My knees sink further into the burning sand and I grip the rumbling soil. The heat presses down, stinging my back, and I take in a gulping breath of the humid, pine-thick air.

I’m here.

I’mhere.

The day is blue-sky bright and the white-hot sun is at its peak. Long stripes of shade fall across me and dance with the shaking of the earth. A flock of blackbirds launches from the pine boughs and flaps wildly into the sky. They caw in outrage at the shaking, rumbling ground.

My stomach slides as I try to catch myself. I clasp a root sticking out of the sand and a dark red beetle skitters across my hand. I’m dizzy and disoriented, and I clasp the pine root as the world shakes.

I’ve never been in an earthquake. The earth tosses beneath you, rumbling and rolling like a sailboat on a rocky sea. It’s as if some monster has awakened far beneath the earth’s surface and it’s stretching and rolling, and the world above is its casualty.

The heat pricks at me. I’m sweating and flushed. My stomach rolls and slides again. And then the world shudders to stillness.

There’s a quiet, stunned, breath-held silence.

I stare at the ground, watching it to make certain it isn’t about to rise up and shake again.

But no.

It doesn’t.

It won’t.

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