Page 88

“I don't know what I'm supposed to do.”

He moves around until he's standing in front of me.

“I'll be behind that wall.” He points toward the mirror. “Only me.”

I look at him. “Why are you suited up too, then?”

“Just in case.”

“There it is again.”

He waits.

I laugh nervously and shake my head. “I'm not going to lose it. I don't even know if I can do this. I don't think this is going to help.”

“Try?”

I stare at him.

He found this place. Went through all the trouble of making a fucking list and filling this room with pieces of a life he never even lived, but somehow knew would hurt.

I don't know if this is going to help. I don't even know if I want it to.

But I can try.

I take a breath and nod.

Jude takes the bat from my hand.

Before I can ask what he's doing, he grabs an empty bottle from the table and tosses it into the air.

The bat swings.

CRASH.

Glass explodes across the floor, making me jump, and Jude hands the bat back to me like he didn't just casually destroy a bottle two feet away from us.

“Don't leave anything whole.”

Then he walks through the door beside the mirrored wall and closes it behind him.

I stare at the room, still not entirely convinced this isn't completely ridiculous, when Let Down by Radiohead starts playing through the speakers.

My head snaps toward the mirror.

“Seriously?”

Nothing.

I know he's back there. I can practically feel him watching me, probably waiting to see if I'm actually going to do this.

I look down at the pink bat in my hands.

Fine.

I walk toward a vase sitting on one of the wooden tables and stare at it for a few seconds before swinging.

The bat connects with a satisfying crack, sending the vase flying off the table and into the wall where it shatters into what must be a hundred pieces.