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“Oh, I know,” I assure. “But it’s time. I need to get back to reality.”
“You can stay for as long as you need. If you’re not ready or whatever…”
“I am,” I murmur, distracted by my brother’s computer. I attempt to power it on, but nothing happens.
“Battery’s dead.”
“Oh.” Of course it is. “We have the same one,” I tell Levi, plugging it into the charger for the laptop I’d brought with me. I had planned to doschoolwork and hopefully figure out the rest of my life while I was here. A failure on both parts.
“It’s password protected,” he tells me.
I smile over at him and repeat my earlier statement. “We have the same one.”
He waits quietly while I finish packing, then sits down on the edge of the bed, saying, “So… I have something for you.”
“Oh, yeah?” I ask, sitting beside him.
After reaching into his pocket, he pulls out a black velvet box, then hands it to me, gesturing for me to open it. Confused, I quickly flip the lid. It’s a ruby-red stone embedded in a thick gold band. I stare at the ring, my pulse beating wildly in my chest.
“It’s Harley’s class ring,” Levi says. “The school gave it to me to give to you guys. I was going to save it for the day you graduated, but you saved me a trip.”
My eyes immediately fill with tears, while my heart fills with healing, and I take the ring from the box and slide it over my thumb. A sob escapes, and I bury it into Levi’s chest as he holds me through my tears. Through my heartache. And when I’m finally settled enough to hear him, he says, “You should check Harley’s computer, Low. I have a feeling there’s some stuff on there you might like to see.” He stands, and I wipe my eyes as I watch him walk to the door. “I have class in the morning, but I’ll be back by one. Don’t you dare leave without saying goodbye.”
“I won’t,” I promise. He’s halfway out the door when I call, “Levi?”
He faces me. “Yeah?”
“Thank you.” I hold Harley’s ring to my chest. “For giving parts of him back to me.”
I turn on my phone for the first time in days but keep it on airplane mode so I don’t get any notifications. I just want to use it to take photos of the ring on my thumb, then in its case, and it’s only now I notice the inscription on the inside of the band.
Faith Over Fear.
My breath halts in my chest as I read the three words over and over, and I try to picture Harley sitting at his desk, trying to come up with those words, or maybe he always had them. Maybe he alwayslivedthem.
I take the pictures, but don’t send them to anyone, and then I get into bed, clutching the ring to my chest as I search for sleep. For hours, it evades me, and I give up hope, flick on the lamp, illuminating Harley’s computer resting on the nightstand.
Remembering Levi’s words from earlier, I sit up, grab the laptop and turn it on. I don’t expect to find much. Assignments, mainly. Maybe some pictures and videos he’s made. Harley ran his team’s social media, and so he was always editing short clips to post.
I type in the family password, and the screen comes to life. His desktop is filled with random files, folders, and screenshots, and I giggle to myself because Jace wouldhateit.
My computer was exactly like this before Jace got hold of it. Now every file has a place. Ahome.
I skim over the folder names, tempted to give it theJaceeffect, but my eyes catch on one folder, separated from all the others, namedHarlow 18th.
It takes a moment to gather the courage to click into it. There are a bunch of video files stored, and I click into the first one. The quality isn’t great, as if taken from an old phone, and it’s of Harley running away from the camera. He can’t be older than four and he’s at the park Dad used to take us to, running with one of those big bubble wands. He holds the wand in the air, forming bubbles behind him, and seconds later, I appear on the screen, chasing after him. “Wait, Harley!”
77
Jace
“Jace?” Mrs. Curtley asks, squatting down on the other side of my desk. “Have you heard from Harlow?”
My instant reaction is to look over at the cult cousins, because she should be asking them. Not me.We broke up, I want to scream, but that would be weird.
“I just asked them,” the teacher says, as if reading my thoughts. “They don’t know.”
I shrug, then stare down at my desk. After a moment, Mrs. Curtley takes the hint and leaves me the hell alone. I’m tired. Beyond it. And I shouldn’t have come to school today, but I thought… I thought maybe Harlow would be here. Not that I’d actually speak to her, but at least I’d see her. In person. And not behind my closed lids during my multiple failed attempts to sleep. I kept picturing her in the arms of that Christian guy, and I was so damn close to calling her dad, but…