Slade—forced to—
“Slade,” I whispered, trembling.
“I’m sorry,” Finn murmured.
He stepped closer and pulled me into him again.
“I didn’t want you to remember like this.”
“He might be okay, right? He could be—”
“He could be,” Finn said softly. His gaze drifted. “I think... maybe that’s why I’m here.”
“What do you mean?”
“There are whispers,” he said, voice low. “Where I am now… they speak about you. It’s hard to make them out, but one word always comes through.”
I swallowed. “What word?”
His gaze locked onto mine.
“Remember.”
“Remember what?”
He tried to answer. His lips parted—but the sound caught in his throat. Nothing came.
Instead, he raised a hand. Gestured to my chest.
I touched the space over my heart instinctively.
Finn clenched his fists. He tried again—but the dream was unravelling.
“Finn?” My voice cracked. “Finn—don’t go. Don’t leave me.”
“Never, Elle. Never.” He said, “I’m always here.”
“I’m sorry,” I choked. “I should’ve told you—I’m sorry for everything. I’m so sorry I left you like that -”
“Elle,” he said softly, “you have nothing to be sorry for. Especially not for loving them.”
I stared at him, blinking back tears. “Don’t forget me. Please.”
He leaned in, pressing his forehead to mine.
“I couldn’t, even if I wanted to,” he whispered. “Not for a second. You’re a part of me, Elle, you always will be. But you need to remember. Remember!”
And then—
He was gone.
When Finn disappeared, the world didn’t break—it just faded. And when it returned, I was smaller again. The shadows of memory were waiting, calling me back.
The cabin faded. The sea stilled.
The dreams twisted and changed, fading out. Back to somewhere more familiar.
And I was smaller. Younger. The shadows of memory drawing me back.
