Uh-oh. I could sense some kind of change looming, like a charge in the air around us. I would have spoken up in warning, but suddenly it felt like too much effort. I didn't bother to look down to check the progress of my disappearance. It wasn't like it was going to be getting any better, right?
Erin seemed to sense the shift, too. She looked truly scared for the first time, and stepped toward her twin, her hands out in a placating gesture. “Eddie, wait, listen. It wasn't like that.”
He looked at her in a cool, evaluating way that actually made me feel a little sympathy for her. “I'm sorry you're dead, and I'm sure I'll miss you… eventually.”
Oh, ouch.
She flinched.
He took a deep breath and tilted his face toward the dark sky above us. “I'm letting her go. She doesn't need to be here for me anymore,” he declared.
A chill slid over my skin at his words. He and Will must have had another chat after I'd left the car.
“Edmund!” Erin shrieked, her hands flying up over her head as if to fend off some invisible force from above.
But nothing happened. At first.
Then her eyes rolled back, and she collapsed… or, rather, Lily's body fell to the ground. And standing above it was the whisper-thin outline of Erin in her original form, barely visible in the bright moonlight. The pink of her bikini was a mere hint of color in her rapidly fading appearance.
He'd released her, completed his unfinished business with her, and now she was disappearing, her energy depleted from possessing Lily's body.
What was left of Erin, more shadow than person, stepped toward her brother, but he looked away.
She glanced around wildly until she spotted me. Help me, she mouthed.
I shook my head, which felt like it weighed about thirty pounds. I could have told her to try to claim her brother, as I'd reclaimed Will, but I wasn't sure it would work. Same with trying a barrage of positive thoughts and comments. Eventually she'd have ended up right where I was… vanishing for good.
“This is it.” I forced the words out. “Last chance. One more opportunity to make the right choice.”
She rolled her eyes.
I made a frustrated noise. “You don't get it. You go this way and there's nothing else. Gone for good.”
Erin's eyes widened.
“So, don't be a dumbass,” I said wearily. But to be honest, I thought this was a bit of a long shot. After all, I was disappearing, too — a little slower, thanks to my connection with Will, but it was still happening. And the light hadn't come for me. What were the odds that it would come for her, even if she did manage to pull the stick out of her butt and say the right thing to her brother?
We were both screwed, most likely. But if she could make Ed's existence slightly better before she went, that could only help.
She shifted her attention to her twin, who still was not looking at her.
I'm sorry. I could see the words flash across her mouth, but of course he couldn't hear them. He didn't even glance — didn't see her making the effort.
And that finally seemed to spark a sense of panic in her.
She flailed her arms around in front of him, her lips moving in a rapid stream of words.
But her brother remained oblivious, half turned away from her.
“Oh, come on,” I said to him, knowing he couldn't hear me, but unable to resist the urge to say something. “Look at her.” It would have been one thing for her to try and fail anyway, but for her to try and have him not even be aware of it? That wasn't fair to either of them.
She stopped jumping around and shouting, then, to stare at him, her focus almost palpable.
Yeah, like that was going to work.
But to my surprise, after only a few seconds, he turned swiftly, almost as if he didn't realize he was moving until it was too late to stop, and their gazes locked. For the first time, I recognized clear similarities between them.
He was older now, of course, so they looked more like regular siblings than twins. But their hair color, the shape of their faces… I could see it now.
I'm sorry. I didn't mean to… She mouthed the words, slowly and distinctly, but her gaze conveyed desperation.
The cynic in me kind of thought this probably had way more to do with her panic over her own state than with some intense desire to make everything right with her brother.
But then she reached out to touch his arm, even though that wasn't possible, and I felt a strange kind of pressure in the air, like a bubble pushing us outward. Then, a very familiar warmth and brightness began to spill from above.
No. No way. My gut twisted in shock and disappointment. Son of a bitch. She gets light?
Erin stepped back in surprise, her body tensed as if she were about to bolt. But I saw it the moment that rush of warmth washed over her. Her appearance solidified, taking on the glow of the light, and she relaxed with a smile, virtually swimming in her newly found peace and acceptance. And I wished I could hit her.
Squinting into the light, Ed held his hand up over his eyes, tears leaving bright tracks down his cheeks.
I was pretty sure I was crying, too, though more out of fury and bitterness. I was being left behind again. Even after everything I'd done. Quelle surprise.
Ed watched the unnatural brightness slowly pouring down, like honey from a jar, and he stepped forward quickly, as though he might try to go with. “Erin!”
But she held her hand out to stop him and gave him an all-knowing, peaceful smile, one that suggested she'd reached some new insight on her life (and death) in those few seconds. Or maybe just being in the light made everything else seem less important by comparison. I didn't know — most of my memories of my time in the light were gone.
As I watched, Erin waved good-bye to her brother.
Ed seemed to be barely holding it together, based on the way his shoulders were shaking, but he managed to wave back.
Then I looked on with wholehearted envy as Erin stepped back fully into the light, her face tilted up to bask in the warmth I barely remembered.
Her form grew brighter until it blended with the light and vanished.
Choking on sobs, Ed turned and fled, leaving me alone with Lily's crumpled body.
I sighed. Or tried to. No noise came out. I felt a spike of panic. It seemed I was only seconds behind Erin on her previous path to disappearance, and the light sure as hell wasn't going to appear over my head to beam me up at the last second.
Except…
The light hadn't retreated yet, I realized with a start. Unlike my previous encounters with it, the light was lingering, a golden and welcoming column only a few feet away. Like it was waiting for something.
For me? Hope pulsed through me. Was it even possible?
I was afraid to move, like if I did anything to attract its attention, it might vanish… again.
With trepidation, I dragged myself a few inches forward, testing; but to my surprise, it didn't pull back.
If anything, it moved closer… or perhaps it simply expanded until the outer edge reached me.
I felt its warmth and strength seeping into me, and I almost cried out with relief. I looked down and saw my body returning, filling in and becoming solid again, only this time with a glow that I recognized as part of the light.
Pushing myself to crawl again, I discovered it was easier than before, like I might be able to stand soon and walk into the light.
After a few feet, I paused to listen, trying to identify a new sound that was still somehow familiar. Harsh, raspy, uneven.