“What are you doing?” I asked, astonished to see him out here. I hadn't seen him leave the car after me, but he must have.
He was crying, his glasses clutched in his hand. “She's gone.”
My heart plunged toward my stomach. “Alona?”
He frowned at me, his forehead crinkling. “Who?”
Before I could answer, he shook his head. “No, Erin. She… the light… it was so bright, and she just… went into it.” He sounded awed and sad all at the same time.
Normally, I would have stayed with him, tried to talk him through it. The first time you see the light, especially if it's not coming for you, it's a bit of a mind-blowing experience. But I couldn't this time, not now.
I shoved past him and kept going.
“Hey, are you okay?” he called after me. “You don't look so good.”
I ignored him and focused on the column of light in the near distance. It grew brighter the deeper I went into the woods. But I couldn't tell if that was because I was getting closer or if the trees were blocking out the competing light from Ben's house.
And then it was gone. Like someone overhead had flipped off a gigantic switch.
I stumbled to a stop, blinded by the sudden darkness.
“No, no, no.” I could hear the broken words in my croaking voice, but they sounded like they were coming from someone else.
When my sight returned, I started forward in the direction of where I thought the light had been, but everything looked the same in the dark. Trees. Everywhere.
“Ally!” I shouted. It was the only name I could safely use for her with so many people nearby, and one I'd come to associate with her, anyway.
No response, and though I'd half expected that, it didn't prevent me from feeling that socked-in-the-stomach sensation, with which I was all too recently familiar.
I kept going, searching blindly for something, anything, when the moonlight caught a pale shape on the ground about ten feet ahead of me.
I raced forward, ignoring my ribs, my brain shouting at me to hurry, even though some part of me knew it was already too late. Whatever had happened had happened. And there was nothing I could do to change it.
I slipped in the dead leaves and half slid, half fell into place next to her.
Gathering her up in my arms, I caught the overwhelming scent of beer, but also the fainter scent of the sweet-smelling shampoo she used, both as Ally and Alona. Lily's body was still breathing, I could tell, but there were no signs of life other than that. Alona was gone, and it was over.
So… that was it. Tears spilled down my cheeks, warm, wet, and stinging my various cuts and scrapes, but I didn't care.
I lifted her up, holding her closer, her face pressed against my shoulder. “I'm sorry. I should have been here. I didn't mean for you to be alone.…”
“You know, I went to a lot of trouble to stick around,” she said quietly, her voice muffled against me.
I jumped a little at the sound, and then started to laugh and cry at the same time, feeling ridiculous but unable to stop. “You're here.”
“It would be nice if you didn't suffocate me right away,” she continued, sounding exhausted.
I tipped her head away from my shoulder, so I could see her face. “Are you okay?”
“Tired. Really tired, but okay. Nothing a gallon of mouthwash and a full decontamination shower won't fix.”
She lifted her head slowly, like it was an effort, and it probably was. I kept my hand behind her neck to help support it.
She touched my cheek gently, and I winced. “What happened to you?” she asked.
“Ben was feeling artistic. Wanted to rearrange my face.” I searched her eyes, looking for signs that she was as okay as she claimed to be. Lipstick was still smeared across her mouth, and I used the side of my thumb to rub it away. She'd hate it as soon as she saw it was messed up.
She smiled. “Funny guy. But there's good news.”
“What's that?”
“You look good in bloodred, too, I guess.”
I rolled my eyes. “Oh, you're a riot.”
“I try,” she said with a modest shrug.
Then it was all too much, and her eyes went bright and shiny with tears, and she looked away. “I thought…” she began in a trembling voice.
“I know.” I held her tighter, ignoring the pain in my ribs and various bumps and bruises. None of that seemed important at the moment.
“The light,” I said. “Did you…”
“Yeah,” she said softly. “I could have gone. It was giving me the choice. Like last time.”
That was news to me, and, dim as it was here in the woods, there must have been enough light for her to read that in my expression.
“Yeah, I didn't know, either,” she said, looking down. “Didn't remember. Not until it was here and I was on the edges of it.”
“You didn't stay for me.” I hesitated. “Did you?” As flattering as that would be, I didn't want it on my conscience.
She laughed, actually snorted. “Please. Who do you think I am?” She sat up straighter, seeming to grow stronger the longer we sat here. “I stayed because I could,” she said simply. “Because I could have been done, but I don't think I am. Not yet.”
I wasn't sure what that meant, exactly, but right now, I didn't care. She was here.
