Page 103 of Boxed In

Something else. There was something else she needed to remember.

The light pulled at her, sweeping everything else away. But as she started toward it, she saw someone ahead of her in the passageway. It was a man walking in the same direction.

She couldn’t see him clearly, yet her chest tightened as she hastened to catch up. She kept staring at his back, trying to puzzle out who he was.

All it once, it came to her.

It was Luke. She recognized Luke’s dark head and his broad shoulders.

With a start, she realized that back in the real world, his flesh had been charred. Here, in this place, he was whole again.

As that thought came to her, she knew why she was here.

To bring him back.

How had she forgotten that?

“Luke!”

He stopped short, his shoulders tensing.

“Luke, wait for me.”

He spun around, staring at her, his face contorted with a mixture of alarm and sadness. “Olivia, oh Lord Olivia, did I kill you, too?”

“No! That’s not what happened. Not at all. I . . . I came to bring you back where you belong.”

She made the mistake of glancing behind him—at the light. And she felt the pull of the warmth and radiance.

She wanted to go there. “But not yet.” She said it out loud to make sure she understood it was true.

“Not yet,” she repeated.

Still, she needed more than words. To reinforce the conviction, she ran forward, clasping Luke in her arms, hugging him to her, focusing on the sensation of his warm, solid body against hers.

He went very still, then murmured. “Let me go. I have to . . . go to the other side.”

She tightened her grip on him. “No. It’s not your time yet. This is a mistake.”

He raised his head and looked around. “But I’m here. In the tunnel that leads to the afterlife, so it must be my time.” Still, even as he spoke, he sounded like he wasn’t certain.

“You’re not sure—because I’m right! Zabastian didn’t want to go back into his prison. That’s why you’re here. It doesn’t have anything to do with you. With Luke Garner.”

He looked surprised, as though memory were flooding back.

To reinforce the memory, she kept talking. “You put the box on the altar. And the light show started. And Zabastian jumped into the flames,” she said, her voice bitter.

A dark look came over his face, and his fists clenched. “And my body died,” Luke finished.

“No! Father Delanos said you weren’t dead. He said I could bring you back.”

When he opened his mouth to speak, she rushed on. “Luke, I love you. I didn’t get a chance to tell you that. Come back with me, and we can live the rest of our lives together.”

For a few heartbeats, she thought he was giving her his agreement. Then he eased away. “Don’t say that. It’s too late for us.”

Her breath had turned shallow, but she kept her voice strong. “You can’t order me to change my feelings about you.”

“You hardly know me. How can you love me?”

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