Page 150 of Fated

I wanted more time with you.

I would’ve found you in Geneva.

I’m sorry.

And then he sprints down the hill.

I wait at the line of demarcation, where I know the rocks will fall, the sand will cave, and the island will end.

For one second, two, time slips like water down a drain.

The seconds tick past slowly, a stuttering heartbeat.

Robert stands next to me, not speaking, just watching the green fade into the blue of the sky. Waiting for Aaron to reappear.

The islanders stand behind us, casting worried glances toward the sea.

The heat presses on me, relentless and absolute. I squint into the light, my lungs aching, my heart breaking. This will be the last time I dream, I know.

I have a feeling that once this day is done the watch will stop ticking for me. Just like it stopped for Leopold. He failed his love. I pray I haven’t failed mine.

“It’ll be all right,” Robert says, his voice gravelly and tight. “Like I said, other people may die, but not the great Aaron McCormick.”

“He can die though,” I say. “He can. But he wouldn’t be able to live with himself if he didn’t go after Amy. He couldn’t live with himself if he didn’t try.”

“I know,” Robert says bitterly.

“Would you?”

“Go after her? No. Live? Yes.”

I nod, clutching Sean tighter to my chest. A drop of sweat travels down my spine. The loamy tropical scents press down on me. The sun reaches its zenith.

I look down at Robert’s watch.

11:47 a.m.

There’s a rumble. A scraping.

A jarring tremble shudders through the island.

It’s here.

My stomach drops and my skin runs cold. I lift my chin, clutch Sean to my chest, and keep my eyes on the horizon.

I’ll keep watching. I keep watching until there’s nothing more to see.

The ground shakes and someone behind us screams. It’s a short shriek, quickly cut off.

My arms shake as Sean twists in my arms, whimpering at the rumbling and shaking of the ground.

“You were right,” Robert says in disbelief. He glances at me, but I keep my eyes on the rise. “He’s gone then. They won’t make it.”

The jarring rumble grows, and Robert grabs my arm, holding me steady.

It’s 11:48 a.m.

And the world is about to fall.

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