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“The ambulance is coming,” I say, as I squeeze Anton’s hand.

“I love you,” he says.

“Shh. The ambulance—”

“Stay with me.”

“I’m right here, baby.”

“No, stay…” He struggles for breath, that awful wheezing sucking sound bubbling up. “It’s okay. Just stay with me. Focus on me.”

A noise comes out of my throat, an almost hysterical yip. “That’s supposed to be my line.”

“Nic?”

I squeeze his hand tighter. “I’m right here. I’m not going anywhere. Can you see me?”

His lips quirk. “I always saw you.”

I squeeze his hand.

“Even when we were kids,” he says. “You might not have seen me, but I saw you.”

“I saw you, too.”

Another quirk. “But not in a good way. I was a jerk.”

“Your friends were jerks. You were just a guy with really bad taste in friends.”

A soft laugh. “Maybe, but I had very good taste in girls. I always saw you, Nic. I always…” His voice catches. “I need to tell you something. A secret.”

Something in me flails, a wild and unreasonable urge to stop him. Whatever he’s about to say, don’t say it. Just—

“Remember how I said I accidentally found your company when I went looking for a coder?” He’s wheezing, struggling to get the words out. I try to stop him, tell him to rest, but he plows on. “It wasn’t an accident. I recognized you in an article, and I had to reachout, take a chance.” His fingers flutter in a weak squeeze on mine. “Best damn chance I ever took.”

I lean over, pressing my lips to his. “I’m glad you did.”

His mouth twists in a wry smile. “I don’t think I’m going to Iceland, Nic.”

“Don’t say—”

“Wherever I do go, though?” His fingers tighten on mine, startling me with their sudden strength. “I’ll be waiting for you. But…” His lips form the next word, but nothing comes out, and his eyes roll back, and his fingers release mine and, with a soft exhale…

Anton is gone.

TWO

Seven Months Later

“This way,” says the woman. She flaps her arms in what I presume is a welcoming gesture, but with her voluminous black robe she looks like a vulture about to take flight, red talons flashing.

As soon as Shania and I step into the hall, the reek of incense hits and my insides twist.

Fake. You know this is fake, so what the hell are you doing here?

Even as my brain screams that, a little voice whispers that I know it’snotalways fake. It is possible to reach beyond this world into the next.

Of all people, I know that.