Page 146 of Find My Way Down to You

A cold sweat breaks out along my hairline.

I can’t control Death. I can’t stop who she comes for.Whenshe comes. But if I accept Milos’s deal—a life in Aides for him to have access to whatever power he believes I have—then I could at least still see the people Death takes.

I’d never feel the waves of grief. Drown in my heartache.

Cary’s voice drifts through my head like the softest ballad.

Grief needs to befelt. It is not a burden. It is a reminder. You were given the choice to love. To be loved. And you took it.

I’m tired of fearing grief. Of thinking it’ll destroy me instead of remembering what it gave to me in the first place.

I raise my chin. “No.”

A deep shadow folds around Milos’s face. “No?”

“No,” I repeat, unflinching. Bold.

He throws his arms wide. “You would give all this up? If you leave, you cannot return.”

The reminder strikes like lightning:

A mortal can only cross over five times. After that, they are forced to make a choice.

“Remain here, for eternity,” I recite to myself. “Or never return. Not until death.”

“Look around, August,” Milos says in a syrupy tone. “This can be your kingdom. Your home.”

For a moment, my eyes scan around. Aides is beautiful. Alluring, unpredictable. Veiled in a power that still leaves me breathless. There’s a whisper-quiet part of me that feels a belonging.

I’mwelcomehere.

Santa Barbara is haunted by ghosts. By incomplete dreams of the August Iwas. Reminders of the August I never became. I wanted so badly to run from it. To escape.

But my parents are there. Max is too.

Santa Barbara is where I fell in love for the first time.

And, unknowingly, it’s where I fell in love for a second time. In a pizzeria. On the steep wooden steps above a beach. In a clock tower high above the city. Between red larkspurs and fiery poppies in my mom’s greenhouse.

Santa Barbara is where the first part of my story was written.

And it’s where I’m deciding to write the next chapter.

I stand as tall as Milos. On equal ground. I may not know how to call forth my power. How I made flowers bloom or vines move. But I won’t let Milos feel more powerful than me.

With finality, I say, “No. I’m leaving.”

From his spot in the sand, Cary smiles weakly.

Fire burns in Milos’s scowl. “You think it that simple?” He raises a hand. Wisps of black snake between his long fingers.

I take a step back.

“I am the prince of Aides,” he half growls. “I have a role. The one my brother gave me.”

His hand touches the back of Cary’s neck.

Cary stiffens, grimacing. He pulls sand between his fingers. His body trembles.