Page 261 of Breathe Like Hell

His voice was exhausted. He was giving in to me. He didn’t believe this would work.

But I had to believe it.

I simply couldn’t accept the fact that Micah wasn’t coming back. The angel at the Syndesmos was wrong. If I found something important enough to him, I could bring him back from wherever he was. If I wanted it bad enough, focused hard enough, grounded my mind. It had to be possible.

I stood up, leaving the messy office behind as I went to Micah’s bedroom, my feet pounding up the stairs, my hair a tangled mess hanging down to my hips.

I rummaged through his nightstand drawer with trembling hands, messing up all the neatness and order he’d left there, grabbing the shark teeth and holding them tight in my palm until the sharp tips cut into my skin. Mason was standing in the doorway when I turned around, my eyes wide.

I remained afraid that this wouldn’t work, and I would have to give up.

But it would work.

It had to work.

“Will you come with me?” I asked.

Mason nodded.

He drove me to the forest in his 4Runner, and I tried to ignore how there was only one car in Micah’s garage. Mason had totaled his Audi, so only the truck was left. I assumed it was on purpose, because he’d crashed into a tree at almost two hundred miles per hour. We never really spoke about it.

Once he’d parked, Mason and I climbed out and headed into the trees. He followed me as I wove through shadows and branches, stepping around ferns and fallen logs until I reached the one tree which glowed faintly. Mason recognized the tree by this point, even without the ultraneon.

The shark teeth were still tucked in my fist, and I carefully laid them at the base of the tree in the area I’d cleared from needles and pine cones.

Mason sat on the ground a few yards away, his forearms propped on his knees, his eyes tired.

We’d always been twisted, broken mirrors of each other. Now, the only thing we were capable of reflecting was our shared grief, distorted into something ugly and mean.

My eyes slid shut and I laid flat on my back, focusing on the feel of the Earth below me, my fingers sinking into the moss, my shoulder pressed to the base of the tree. I breathed as deep as I could, allowing my consciousness to expand, searching through the endless complexity of the forest I laid within.

Where are you?

Are you here at all?

He had to be.

Quiet tears slipped down the sides of my face, my strength already waning. I couldn’t do this for very long. My mind was tearing apart at the seams. Keeping Mason alive was difficult enough; I didn’t have the strength to spare for something that would never work. But I couldn’t give up. Not yet.

This would be it.

If I was patient, if I focused, Micah would come back into reach. I would pull him out of whatever dark place he’d been locked inside of, bring him back to me.

I laid there until the sun began to set and the air got colder. My fingers had gone numb against the damp moss, coldness sinking into my bones.

The forest changed gradually around me. The greens dulled first, surrendering to deeper shades as the sun slipped beyond the cliffs. Shadows pooled beneath the ferns, then climbed slowly up the trunks of the trees until the entire forest was wrapped in twilight, save for the glow of Micah’s tree.

The bark dug into my shoulder every time I shifted, rough enough to scrape my skin but familiar now after so many hours. I traced one deep groove with my thumb without thinking, memorizing another piece of his tree.

But the tree hadn’t ever cared.

It hadn’t changed.

It had watched me hope for so many months without answering.

It watched me now, laying here, my last futile attempt nestled at its base, my bared soul pleading with the universe to listen to me. For once, please let something good happen to me.

My heart sank further with each passing minute, each crawling hour.