Two and a half weeks after Dex’s attack in Wellesley, I was starting to look more like myself again. Most of the bruising on my face had faded and, apart from still having to move about slowly with my ribs, I was functioning. Physically anyway.

Miriam and Lucy had visited me often while I was in hospital. They tried to ask me about what happened a few times, but I just told them I needed to move on. They seemed to accept that, but I also saw the change. The way they looked at me differently. And when I told Miriam I wouldn’t be able to go away with her to the Hamptons, the small sigh of relief. I understood. What had happened had changed things for all of us, and it would take them time to accept that our bubble of perfectness had burst.

On my second Saturday home from the hospital, Ryan called to let Mom and me know that he was on his way. Mostly he was checking if it was still all right for him to bring his friend. I knew he was asking for my benefit, so I told him it was no problem. When I got off the phone, Mom was staring at me.

‘What?’ I asked.

She looked me up and down. ‘I just, I’ve never seen you in … jeans.’

I looked down at my outfit of fitted dark-blue jeans and a white singlet top. It was definitely not what she was used to. I shrugged. ‘I’m just trying out something new.’ The truth was, I was just trying, period.

‘You look completely different,’ Mom went on.

‘I’m still me. Just me, Mom.’

With that she hugged me and headed off to play squash with Lyndal.

I hung out in my room, looking at my college material, trying to decide what I wanted to do – if Harvard was really where I wanted to go. I didn’t know.

When I heard the familiar sound of Ryan’s car horn, I levered myself off my bed and went out to the balcony. He was opening up the boot and waved at me. I waved back before heading down to greet him.

Ryan would never be my shitty brother again. In fact, we were becoming pretty close. And while Lucas and I didn’t exactly talk on the phone every other night, things were better there too.

Walking downstairs, I saw a guy standing in the front doorway, his back to me. Ryan’s friend, obviously.

‘Hey,’ I said.

He spun around. I lost my footing and slid down the last few steps, landing ungracefully on my butt and jarring my ribs in the process.

‘Hey, are you okay?’ He raced over to me, crouching close.

I closed my eyes, my heart racing. Too frightened to look. That voice.

How? It couldn’t be. It must be my mind playing tricks on me. I was seeing ghosts.

‘Did you hurt yourself?’ he asked, that voice again, so familiar and yet so foreign at the same time.

I felt the sting of tears behind my eyes and clenched my jaw, not sure if my emotion was dominated by fear or hope.

Slowly I opened my eyes and lifted my head.

Dark hair. Full, unmistakable lips. Deepwater-blue, beautiful eyes.

‘Ethan?’ I whispered.

He smiled, looking relieved. ‘Yeah, I’m your brother’s friend.’ But then his smile faltered. He looked more closely at me, his eyes blinking. ‘I know you.’ His voice had dropped to a whisper.

He held out his hand and mine flew to his, fitting just as I remembered. Just as I’d dreamed every night and thought I would never feel again. He helped me up, his hold firm, warm, alive.

I staggered, trying to make my legs work.

Ethan.

I couldn’t stop the tear that slid down my cheek. ‘It’s you,’ I whispered.

‘Are you sure you’re okay?’ he asked, his other hand on my shoulder, supporting me. I could feel exactly where the pad of each finger pressed.

‘No.’ I was trembling all over, but also amazed. ‘But maybe one day,’ I said, soaking up his touch and gazing into his gentle eyes. He was different. His hair was short and neat. He looked bigger, stronger. That made me smile. Healthier.

We stared into each other’s eyes as if drawn together by some invisible magnet that was beyond our control. He half laughed, baffled. ‘Why do I feel like I want to laugh, or cry, or hug you? Something,’ he said, brow furrowed. ‘Who are you?’

I smiled, remembering a conversation I’d once had with my Ethan. ‘That’s a complicated question.’ I squeezed his hand. ‘But I will tell you. If you truly want to know. Another time.’

‘Why am I so sure I know you?’ he asked, dazed.

Over the lump in my throat, I said the words that Ethan had once said to me. The words I now realised were the ones that made me fall in love with him. ‘Because some things are so real you can feel them to your core. It doesn’t matter where you go, they go with you. Anywhere.’

He chuckled, squeezing my hand back. ‘I have no idea what that means.’

‘You will.’

He was still staring at me when Ryan came stumbling through the door with a couple of bags.

‘Cheers, buddy, great help,’ he said, looking at Ethan. ‘I see you two have met.’ Then he noticed just how close we were standing and his expression changed to suspicion. ‘Ethan, back off. And Sabine, be nice. Ethan here just got out of hospital himself last week.’

My eyes went wide. ‘Why? Are you sick?’ Oh god, please not again.

His gentle smile returned. ‘No, I just fainted. A bit of a medical mystery, really. They ran a bunch of tests and I’m fine. They figure I must have eaten something bad or caught an odd bug. Storm in a tea cup.’ He watched me, looking fascinated by my concern and then pleased with my relief.

‘Come on, Ethan. I’ll show you to the pool house.’ Ryan started walking towards the back doors. When he turned back and saw Ethan still staring at me, he let out an exasperated sigh. ‘Dude, you’re macking on my sister.’ I thought Ryan might go into his newfound protective big-brother mode, so I looked at him pointedly and smiled.

Smiles lately had become so rare.

Ryan slumped against the wall, still holding the bags. ‘Oh for pity’s sake. She’ll be here all weekend.’ He rolled his eyes.

Ethan smiled at me and followed Ryan to the pool house, looking back every few steps as if to check that I was real. I understood completely. I couldn’t take my eyes off him.

It turns out my Ethan had been absolutely right. You never do know what’s just around the corner. Of course, Levi would have another explanation altogether. Not that I cared.

I walked out the front of the house and tilted my head to the clear blue sky, a small breeze finding its way to me. ‘I’m ready, Ethan. You were right. I was lost. But you found me, between the lives.’

I didn’t know if this Wellesley version was like my Ethan. Nothing would ever take away the memory of Roxbury’s Ethan. I’d always love him and I had every other day to walk in my Roxbury life and honour that. I didn’t know if this Ethan would love me like I’d once been loved, or if I could one day love him too. But I knew, unequivocally, I would do whatever it took to find out.