Eternity

was the only one to save Melissa. The boys were rolling around, too consumed in their own competition, and there was no one else. No one but her. All this for one mistake. One for which she had apologized. It wasn’t right.

She wasn’t going to let Melissa die. She wasn’t going to let another person get hurt because of her. She scrambled to her feet and propelled herself forward with unnatural speed. If the Furies wanted to take her down, so be it—but she wasn’t going to let anyone else die. She covered the ground in seconds and threw herself into the flames. She didn’t see a fire, just the chance to save someone other than herself. For once.

It wasn’t the searing pain she imagined. Instead it was pinpricks of heat dancing on her skin and an immense pressure, closing in on all sides, like the force of a freezing waterfall coming at her body from every angle—so cold that it feels hot. Except this was so hot, it felt cold. She came out on the other side, within the circle, and saw Melissa at her feet. Em fell to her knees beside her. “I’m going to get you out of here,” she whispered. Melissa’s skin was slick with sweat, and her eyelids were fluttering. She hoisted Melissa’s body into her arms.

She tried to plot her way out of the fiery maze. It was just darkness and smoke everywhere, like in Crow’s vision. Flames were reaching up around her. The threads of blackness pulled at her heart: the same sticky, angry web she’d been walking through for months.

No more.

Through the wall of smoke and flames, she adjusted her grip on Mel, who was cradled in her arms like a baby. Like when they used to pick her up and throw her off the dock at Galvin Pond when they were all so much younger. She sheltered Melissa’s body with her own, and attempted to move out of the circle of fire. She took one step backward, and then another. Meanwhile, the flames grew higher and hotter . . . higher and hotter . . .

She braced herself—cringing against the heightened sensation—and finally managed to twist her torso just enough to deposit Melissa’s body safely across. She could feel the fire eating away at her skin, and smoke filling her lungs.

Smoke was all around her, trapping her, flames lit by JD—just as Crow had seen it.

But he’d misunderstood.

They had all misunderstood.

As she shoved Melissa’s body just outside the flames, she stumbled. The heat ripped at her; now she could feel it everywhere, in her skin and teeth and hair. It was like a fist of pain gripped her from all sides.

Burning flowers. The smell was horrible, intense, searing her nose, making her feel as though her whole mind were on fire. Maybe it was.

And then, suddenly, the pain stopped. There was a high-pitched but very faint ringing in her ears, almost like a hum. Almost like a song. The darkness began to swallow her. But it was different from before. This sensation was strangely soothing, like rocking on a gentle wave. A rowboat swaying ever so slightly. In its embrace, Em felt peaceful. And in an instant, she understood.

I love you, JD, she thought. It was you all along, but I didn’t see it until too late.

I love you, Gabby. I love you for forgiving me. For showing me what real justice and real forgiveness is.

And Crow . . . Thank you for teaching me what sacrifice means.

I love you, Mom and Dad, and Melissa, and Drea. God, Drea, I’m so sorry. We should have known all along—the Furies are evil, and to defeat them, we needed pure love. Not tricks and books and rituals.

You know why the Furies left last time?

Not because of a banishment. And not because of a flower.

Because Edie was willing to give up her own life for yours.

Love. It’s why they kept me from JD.

Because love is the only thing that can kill them.

A scream. A piercing scream that ripped through time, thoughts, space, reality. A silvery scream.

A strong wind began to blow, sucking her out of this world and into another. Stronger and stronger, like a hurricane. A shrieking darkness spiraled around her. The cloudy vapors contained Meg’s and Ali’s leering faces. Their eyes were glass; their bones showed through their perfect skin. She couldn’t look away—she was being sucked into their vortex. Time seemed to be collapsing in on her, heavy and charged.

The dark ocean around her turned to bright, bright white.

She heard voices.

You’ll never be rid of us.

We tried to teach you a lesson.

The words were a patchwork of sinister sounds, a dissonant chord of desperation.

Em could practically hear them scraping against the dirt, trying to keep their footing.

She watched from outside herself—from nowhere, or everywhere—as Ty started screaming. Her precious white flower began to shrivel. In an instant, the petals withered to a papery brown. And Ty began to transform. Her eyes smoldered, dark red and black, like coals. She wavered, twisting in the breeze. Em saw it but also felt it, as intimately as if her own body were disintegrating into thin air.

“She didn’t get what she wanted,” she heard Crow say.

Then there was a huge burst of flame, rocketing them all off their feet. An explosion. The orchids. The Furies’ faces. The silhouette of a tree—black against a charcoal sky. An icicle, melting rapidly into a pool of dirty water.

She kissed eternity.

And then, with a final howl, everything went silent.

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

There was the smell of fresh flowers. But not orchids. No, something lovely, and calming, and right.

A quiet beeping went on in the background . . . It was the sound of eternity, patiently waiting for her, waiting for her, waiting . . .

Em’s eyes fluttered open.

The house was gone. There was no garden.

Ty, Meg, and Ali were gone too. A ripple of relief washed over her, tickling her toes. She didn’t know whether to trust the feeling.

Groggily, she lifted her head and blinked several times.

She was in a hospital room. A bouquet of yellow roses, sprays of lavender, and big, bobbing gerbera daisies lay on a table by her head.

And then, seemingly from nowhere, JD was standing over her, holding out a hand. “You’re awake,” he said with gruff relief. “You’re okay.”

“What—what happened?” Her throat was hoarse.

“They’re gone,” JD said.

“Are you sure? What about Crow? And Melissa?” Em said, struggling to sit up. She wanted them all to be okay.

“They’re fine. You’re at the hospital. Your parents are just downstairs getting coffee—you’ve been out for a while.”

The words made Em’s heart soar and her stomach drop simultaneously, leaving an airy, empty space in the middle of her body. “JD,” she whispered. “Am I okay? Are you okay?”

He leaned down to wrap her in a bear hug, and her queries were muffled in his jacket.

“We’re okay,” he said. “All of us. Thanks to you.”

Thank god. And then he let Em go, but not too far. Cupped her dirt-streaked face in his hands and then put two fingers against her throat, feeling for a pulse. Em felt it beating softly against the pads of his fingers.