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I wave my arms out in front of my face, hoping that the movement will trigger him to look.

It does.

His wide, unfocused eyes meet mine, and he raises his brow in a glazed and questioning glance. I’m concerned.

“What’s going on? Where are you right now?” He slowly blinks at me, his mouth hanging open. He eventually rubs his eyes and smears his hands down his face.

“I don’t think you’re going home, Lyr.”

I should’ve known. This behavior isn’t like him. I’m not even surprised at this point. Everything has been a mess and nothing has gone my way since I got here. I’m tense, and I feel my shoulders drop when it occurs to me what that means.

“It’s okay,” I say calmly, “I don’t wanna leave you. I’d rather stay.”

That’s not a lie, but it’s not the whole truth either. I want to go home, but I also want Attie. I’ve waited my whole life to meet God. That sounds morbid—it’s not, though. I was baptized; I was saved; I read my Bible and said my prayers and look at what it’s gotten me. This place is basically purgatory, and I still don’t understand why I’m here.

I want to be angry. I want to scream and throw things and let out all my frustrations, but I don’t. There’s no point.

Instead, I choose to be grateful.

I choose to accept the facts.

And I choose Attie.

“Of course, I want you to stay, but it would be wrong to ask you to do that. We can keep trying. We’ll figure out how to get you home.”

His reaction to this is so weird to me. He seems perfectly fine with me leaving and seems to have zero intention of coming with me. He doesn’t want to leave here. But why?

“Do you not care about what happens to yourself? Why haven’t you tried to leave and why does it seem like once we figure this out that you don’t intend on coming with me?”

I’m frustrated. He stands up and starts pacing the room, running his hands through his hair.

“Because if I leave, I lose the last little bit of humanity that I’ve been so desperately trying to hold on to. Right now, it almost feels normal—like I didn’t die. I just… I don’t wanna give that up. I’m scared to let go.”

My heart breaks for him. I can understand his strife, but I also need him to see mine.

“You won’t lose your humanity. You’ll gain something so much bigger than anything you could’ve ever imagined—peace, Attie. Our souls are so tired. We’ve been through so much in our lives. Don’t we deserve this?”

Earth is a cesspool of pedophiles and rapists, corrupt systems, and greed. I hate it here.

I can see how fear is what’s keeping him here, but I’m tired of living in fear. It’s what I’ve done my whole life. I’ve woken up every morning for twenty-four years, never knowing what kind of treatment I was going to receive or what hell was waiting for me.

I lived my life walking on eggshells. I refuse to do that now. Not here. Not in the In-Between. This is my last chance.

Attie doesn’t respond. I watch him intently as he continues to pace.

“Why is this bothering you so much?” He asks, frustrated.

He stops mid-stride and turns to me. He looks so stressed.

“Why? Because it’s important to me that you get what you want… what you need. You’re mine, Lyr, but what you’re not is my property. I don’t own you. I’m lucky enough to bask in your presence and soak in your light. It’s a gift—an honor, and I am so indebted to have had this time with you. But if staying here isn’t what you want, then don’t let me be the one to hold you back. If I can’t be your hero, I want you to be your own.”

I feel sick to my stomach, and a heaviness washes over me. I know now that I’ve never experienced true love before; not from my parents, not from Jake, not even from Dee. Well, maybe from Dee, but I don’t have time to think about her right now, nor do I want to. Attie wants what’s best for me regardless if it hurts him or not.

I don’t know what to do with that realization or the feelings I’m experiencing. My heart is hammering in my chest and I can feel a panic attack coming on. I wasn’t expecting to feel so much after dying. It’s too much like living still, and although that’s what I want now, I don’t want it here. I want home.

I want quiet.

Stillness.