As I sprinted through the precinct, my mind moved as fast as my legs, going back and forth between cursing my sister and praying she was okay. I’d almost lost Uncle Victor. I couldn’t lose her.
When I threw open the roof access door, I had a stitch in my side. The back of my throat was so dry; it hurt to breathe. But I couldn’t stop. The birdhouse was only a few steps away. The doors were still open. There wasn’t a single bird in sight.
I raced in to find the Smiths kneeling in front of a dried puddle of blood.
“Jasmine, where are you?” I stopped short when I saw the knife, the tip stained rust red. My stomach clenched. I had to look away before I was sick.
The bucket of birdseed sat on the bench like I’d seen in my vision. Next to it was a folded piece of lined paper. The edge was frayed, as if it had been torn out of a notebook. When I picked it up, I felt my own pulse through the paper. I looked around, desperate for an answer. Hoping beyond hope that I wasn’t holding my sister’s suicide note.
“Jazz!” I screamed, continuing my run. I went to all four corners of the birdhouse before coming back to the pond and its damn bench.
The Smiths still knelt there, watching helplessly.
There was no one else here. Not Jasmine. Not Death.
I blinked back tears. This couldn’t be happening. Glaring down at the note I still held, clutched tightly between my fingers, I fought against the urge to open it. I refused to believe this was happening. My need for answers beat the stubborn denial in the end. I wrenched the note open.
I’ve decided to trade places with Death.
I staggered until the backs of my knees hit the stone bench. I fell into it, staring down at the paper. The words blurred together as I read on.
Angela was right; I am valuable to Death because I’m the only one who can relieve her of her duty. I’m going to force Death to undo the curses and then, once I’ve become Death herself, I’ll cure Uncle Vic.
I don’t know if this’ll work, but I have to try. I’m done watching everyone else do the dangerous things. I’m done being helpless. It’s time I saved the day for once.
I’m not going to ask you to forgive me. I know you’re going to be pissed. I would be too if you pulled a crazy, stupid stunt like this. Just know that I didn’t do this out of despair or depression or because I was tired of living. I did it to give you and Uncle Vic and Anthony a chance to truly live.
So don’t ruin this. Don’t spend the rest of your days mourning and hating me for abandoning you. Don’t stay cooped up in that basement, guarding yourself from the world. Do everything you’ve ever wanted and more. Finish college. Visit Europe. Go sailing. Get married. Make babies. Make mistakes. Become a better person. There’s a great big world out there. Savor everything.
For me. For you. For us.
I love you, little brother. You and Uncle Vic and Tony are my whole world. Never forget it.
The page fell through my numb fingers. I watched it flit and spin on its way to the ground.
Mrs. Smith picked it up gingerly. I didn’t watch her read it. I couldn’t lift my head. It was all I could do just to breathe. The world seemed to understand how important it was to stay silent. Because at any minute I was going to totally lose my shit.
“She’s done it then,” Mr. Smith said. He must’ve been reading over his wife’s shoulder. “The blessed girl saved us all.”
“Charles.”
I finally looked up.
Mrs. Smith’s lips trembled. She could hardly get the words out. “I am…so sorry.”
I mutely held out my hand. She lowered the note into it and squeezed my fingers. I let my hand slip out of her grip, fall back into my lap.
“She was the most incredible person I’d ever met,” Mrs. Smith went on. “So brave and smart and caring.”
That’s when the shaking started. Was I cold? Was I angry? Was I going into shock? I honestly didn’t know.
“I’m glad someone like her has become Lady Death.”
“But what happened to the former Death?” Her husband looked around, like he expected to find Death crouched behind a bush or something. “When the trade was complete, what became of her? Did she die? Did she take Jasmine’s place in this world as a mortal?”
Mrs. Smith shrugged helplessly. “Does it matter? She’s gone where we’ll never be able to reach her.” She stood and placed a hand on my shoulder.
I shrugged it off. “Don’t.” My voice was gravelly. My face was hot. I was a wounded animal. Nobody should be near me. “I need to be alone. Please, go away.”
“Of course. If there’s anything we can do for you—”
“Can you bring Jasmine back?” I snapped.
Mrs. Smith recoiled.
Her husband put a protective arm around her shoulders and frowned at me. “Come, darling. The boy wants to be alone.”
I gnashed my teeth as I watched them leave. I didn’t care that I was being a dick.
Uncle Victor was probably waking up right about now, feeling better than ever. His doctors were probably studying his charts and asking him if they could run a bunch of tests to find out what could’ve caused this miracle. Vanessa was probably bringing the Velazquezes in right now, triumphantly putting an end to their smuggling empire. The Salamander would be called off and we would all be safe.
None of it mattered. My world had just ended and I was starting to implode.
I’m done being helpless. It’s time I saved the day for once.
She saved me every day. Why hadn’t I ever told
