Page 176 of The Otherworld

“Did I do something bad?”

I shook my head, my throat tight as I remembered the dream. “You were gone.”

“Gone?” Adam said. “Gone at school?”

“No. You were gone for good. That’s what Mom said. She was real sad… and I was looking for you everywhere, but I couldn’t find you.”

Adam heard it in my voice—the fear. I tried to hide it. I didn’t want him thinking I was a wimp. But the dream scared me. I couldn’t lie, not back then.

“Come on,” Adam said and pushed back the blankets. “We gotta be quiet so we don’t wake Mom and Dad.”

I get out of bed and grab my T-shirt from the floor, pulling it over my head as I step out into the hallway.

The house is dark, noiseless. I try to be silent as I make my way through the kitchen, weaving around the table and chairs. I do pretty good until I get to the front door—that’s where I always screw up, making too much noise.

Adam knew how to do it silently. He was like a cat burglar. I couldn’t hear when he eased open the front door and stepped out onto the deck.

Outside, the night was cold and clear, our backyard glazed in silver moonlight. Adam sat me on the deck railing, his strong hands holding my shoulders so I wouldn’t fall off.

“Look up.”

I tip my head back and stare up at the bright white moon. It’s almost full, shining like a beacon in the middle of a navy predawn sky.

“What do you see, Jack?”

“The moon?”

“Mm-hmm. And when you don’t see the moon, what does that mean?”

“It means there’s clouds in the way.”

“But the moon is still there, in outer space. Right?”

“Yeah.”

“Well, that’s how it is with me.”

I craned my neck to look up at him. The pale light etched sharp lines of shadow on his face.

“You’re the moon?”

He grinned. “I’m always there. Even if you can’t see me. Even if stuff comes between us… I’ll never be gone. I promise.”

“I won’t let you be gone,” I said.

He laughed and ruffled my hair with his free hand. “You’d better not, little brother.”

The moon wavers and blurs as hot tears fill my eyes, stinging when they meet the cold.

I’ve lost my brother all over again.

And it’s my fault.

I let him be gone.

“No,” I rasp, my voice a broken whisper. “No, I won’t…”

I run down the porch steps and across the driveway to my car. It’s not until I’m starting the engine that I realize I’m not wearing any shoes.

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