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Bang. Bang.

I jumped, then froze as my mind tried to rationalize the sound.

No. No.

Panic welled into my throat and threatened to choke me as my scalp prickled with fear. Then Dylan’s arm was around me as the second volley of fireworks exploded, flooding the sky with a rainbow of sparkling color. Followed quickly by another and another. He held me close.

“Wow,” he said, close to my ear as he looked up in childish wonder at the night sky. “I’ve got you,” he added, his voice hushed and soothing. And gradually, my racing heart slowed as I was pulled back into the moment as each barrage of fireworks lit up the night sky with breathtaking beauty.

The dazzling display continued for several minutes, and soon, I was swept up with the crowd’s oohs and aahs. The climax was a crescendo of color and sound and then all was quiet.

The crowd sprang to life, cheering and applauding as the smoke from the fireworks drifted over the stars.

“Wow. That was something,” Lulu said.

“You okay?” Dylan asked me.

I nodded, and he released me.

“Yes. Amazing,” he said in response to Lulu.

I gaped at the sky and remembered Tristan’s soft-spoken words when he was just a fragrance in my room.

You’ll be okay, he’d said.

A shooting star crossed my field of vision, a pale comparison to the dazzling fireworks but awe-inspiring nonetheless. It was a sign.

Tristan. You’ll be okay.

My face lit up and my heart swelled.

“That’s better,” Dylan said, his broad grin reflecting mine. “Come on, let’s head back.”

We were all quiet as Dylan drove back to the manoir, even Lulu, each of us savoring our last night in France.

“Today was better. You would have loved the fireworks. Especially you, Billy,” I whispered to the photograph as I lay in bed and traced each of their silhouettes with my finger. One of my biggest fears was that I would forget what they looked like. I studied their images. I wanted them firmly rooted in my consciousness so I would never forget.

“Good night, family. Love you. Miss you.”

Eventually, I turned off the light, and after the days’ exertions, and a proper meal, I fell asleep immediately.

Tristan stands in the gray misty landscape where the sky meets the earth, and it’s impossible to distinguish the two. I’ve been here before. I’m in the dreamscape where I said goodbye to my parents. I’m motionless and near the mist that had shrouded my family in that dream not so long ago. Taking a few hesitant steps toward me, the slight breeze toying with his tousled hair, Tristan gazes at me, his green eyes luminous. My heart soars at the sight of him. He halts so close to me, I have to look up to see his face, while the gray mist closes in, cocooning us.

“You lit a candle for me.” His voice is soft and full of wonder, and he gives me a beaming, heartfelt smile. “That’s why I’m here. I’ve missed you,” he breathes. “So much. And I found you.”

“In France,” I whisper.

“Yeah. I can’t believe I found you. It was the candle. Like a beacon.”

“What?”

“I know. Weird, huh? I don’t understand it either.” He lifts his hand and tucks my hair behind my ear, but he doesn’t let go, his fingers running the length of the strand.

He can touch me! I stop breathing and stand paralyzed, while my heart starts pounding.

“So soft,” he murmurs, and his eyes glisten. His fingers reach the end of my hair, and he holds it gently and raises the lock to his lips, kissing the end, without taking his eyes off mine. “Beautiful,” he says and lets the strand fall. With the back of his knuckles, he caresses my cheek and brushes his thumb across my lower lip. My body thrums at his touch, coming to life. “Say something,” he says.

“You can touch me.” My words are barely audible.