Page 56 of The Rhythm of their Souls

The pull on my body became stronger, causing my grip on her hand to slip slightly.

Nora retorts. “When you feel far from me, look to the moon. I’ll be right there, always.” A humming noise surrounds us. “Look at me, Olive. Remember, sisters forever.”

I give a slow nod, accepting I have to let go. I can’t be selfish anymore.

“Sisters forever,” I whisper. As my hand slides from her, I keep my eyes on my beautiful big sister, soaking her in for the last time. I choke out, “I love you, Nora Ray, to the moon and far beyond the stars.”

A single tear falls from her eye. She gives me a slight nod and turns to the window. As I’m pulled further away, her eyes slam shut, and I watch as her body becomes nothing but a bright light so intense that I have no choice but to close my eyes. A hum so loud that I cover my ears.

For a moment, I hear Nora’s comforting tone in my mind. “I will love you forever, little sister.”

In one quick breath, everything goes silent, and blackness swallows me whole again.

Chapter 28

I sit patiently, tapping my thumb along my steering wheel while watching Olive knock on the front door of her mom’s house. I wish she wouldn’t have asked me to stay in this fucking car. I selfishly want to be beside her every step of the way, but I understand her reasoning.

I’m genuinely concerned about her well-being. She consistently puts up a façade to hide her pain, but tonight, I caught a glimpse of her true emotions as her mask slipped away. It was painful to see how vulnerable she truly was beneath that exterior. She puts so much effort into appearing strong and resilient, yet she doesn’t seem to recognize that her strength already shines through, even in her moments of fragility. It kills me to think that she faces her struggles in solitude, battling her demons without the support she deserves. We’re going to work on that, though.

I sigh and lean my head back against the headrest, keeping my eyes fixed on Olive. Finally, the front door opens, and a woman steps out, slamming the door behind her. I assume that’s her mother, Jewels. I’ve only ever seen pictures of her sister, Nora.

Olive’s posture suggests that her sister isn’t in the house. So where could she be? Olive had already checked her car earlier, so perhaps someone picked her up. I hope she’s okay, for Olive’s sake. I can’t hear the conversation, but it seems like her mom is rambling about something. Olive doesn’t even appear to be paying attention.

I glance at the time, seeing it’s almost 3 a.m. When I look up, I see Olive is no longer by the door. Suddenly, her mom is sprinting down the stairs, yelling something. Where the hell did she go? I quickly turn off the ignition and step out of the car. “Olive!” I call out, but she doesn’t respond.

Her mom is heading my way, and she doesn’t look happy. “Who the hell are you?” she shouts. I shut my car door and calmly respond, “My name is Theo. I brought Olive here to look for her sister.”

She stops about six feet before me, looking me up and down. I see a lot of her in Olive. Even with her current state, she is a beautiful woman. I don’t know what Olive’s father looks like, but I see where she received many of her features.

“Could you please tell me where Olive went?” I request.

Jewels places her hands on her hips and looks towards the backyard, letting out a heavy sigh. “She didn’t say, but I will assume her and Nora’s treehouse. A trail at the end of the yard leads to it.”

I remember sitting on the beach with Olive, and she told me about their treehouse and how special it was to her and Nora. I give a quick nod and thank Jewels.

I sprint towards the backyard, dialing Olive’s number. The line continues to ring as I navigate my surroundings. I hear a faint buzzing ahead of me; I move closer and spot a small light beaming from the grass. Olive’s phone lies facedown on the ground. I retrieve it and place it in my pocket. She must have dropped it running back here.

I turn my phone light on and search all around me. I am close to the end of the yard, and there is nothing but woods beyond this point. To the left, I see what looks like a small opening into the woods. I shine my light in its direction. Once I approach it, I realize it’s a grown-up trail; this has to lead to the treehouse. I move forward, holding my phone in one hand and using my other to push briars and twigs out of the way.

My movements stop when I hear a loud cry, followed by Olive screaming my name. What the fuck? I pick up my speed, disregarding the cuts and scratches forming along my arms. Finally reaching the end, I look up at the treehouse. I spot the small open door leading to the inside. I slide my phone into my other pocket and climb the ladder quickly. My heart is minutes from pounding out of my chest.

As I reach the top, I push the door open, slamming it into the wall. What I see is unlike anything I’ve ever witnessed. Olive is on the floor, lying peacefully across Nora’s chest. Her slender hand gently intertwines with Nora’s. Items are scattered around them and near their joined hands, and neither of them is moving. The remaining rays of the moon reflect off their weightless bodies. I quickly climb through the small opening of the door, knocking my shoulders against either side.

I quickly examine both of them. First, I check Nora for a pulse. Her skin feels oddly cool to the touch, causing me to pull my hand back instantly. Aside from a faint gleam from the moon, there is barely any light in the room.

I pull out my phone and shine the light on Nora’s face. My eyes are immediately drawn to her lips; they are blue, and her face is pale, almost like the moonlight.

I cover my mouth with my closed hand in shock. She’s gone; it’s too late. I look at her one more time. She is so beautiful, like her sister, and I notice that her hair is curlier, unlike Olive’s wavy locks. Her curly hair reminds me of their mother.

I shake my head and focus on Olive; she hasn’t moved at all. I take a moment to calm my heavy breathing and clear my mind. First, I crouch down and place my ear near her mouth to listen for her breathing. I anxiously wait for ten seconds, but there’s nothing. Gently, I grab her and attempt to roll her onto her back, ensuring that her head is flat against the floor.

The most difficult moment came when I had to separate their hands. It felt deeply wrong to pull them apart as if I were tearing something precious. My gaze was drawn to the matching moon bracelets Olive had lovingly chosen from the beach—a symbol of their bond now bittersweet. As I stare at their lifeless hands intertwined with such determination, a wave of emotion washes over me, and my heart aches at the sight. It was as if their connection was still alive, even in stillness, making the act of separation even more painful.

I listen once more for any signs of breathing, but there is still nothing. I’ve always managed to stay calm and not overthink situations, but I won’t lie—I’m absolutely terrified right now. If I lose her, I can’t even begin to imagine what that would mean. I position myself beside her, placing my hands on her chest, ready to begin compressions.

I realized there wasn’t enough time to call the cops; paramedics would never get back here in time. And I don’t know what the address is. I tried replaying the roads we traveled, but I can’t remember. I have to save her.

At this moment, I am grateful that I paid attention in school when I learned CPR —it’s the one useful skill that I gained. I start the chest compressions, mentally reviewing the steps. I glance down at Olive, taking in her angelic features. “Come on, baby, I can’t lose you,” I plead. I’ve never been one to pray, but I pray anyway. “God, please save her,” I choke out.