No. That couldn’t be right. I wasn’t going to think like that. Whatever was happening right now was a mistake, just a big mistake, and we could fix it once we finally figured out how.

I’d gotten through to him just now, hadn’t I? When I’d called Lucas, he’d heard me, even if he didn’t realize it. I had to call him again. Lucas, I’m right here. Right here. All you have to do is look at me.

He didn’t budge.

Maybe it would help if I got closer to him, I thought. But how was I supposed to do that? I didn’t quite understand how—or if—I could still move, since my body and I seemed to have become separated.

Then I looked at Lucas again and saw the sheer anguish on his face. He looked so desperately lost and alone. I wanted to hold him, to comfort him somehow—

And that wanting was like a tow line, pulling me from the ceiling down to his side. Suddenly I could feel the warmth of his body all around me, comforting as a blanket and I sensed that I’d broken through. “Lucas!”

He jerked backward. His eyes went wide, and Lucas pushed himself away from the bed, crawling back toward the corner.

Why was he scared? Lucas, I’m right here.

But already I could tell that he hadn’t heard the last thing I’d said, and I didn’t think he could see me. Lucas blinked a couple of times, then sagged back against the wall. No doubt he thought he’d imagined it.

Then all of a sudden, I couldn’t really see him either. The blue-gray mist closed in again, and once again I felt myself drifting, unanchored. Was I traveling up or down? Was I traveling at all? There wasn’t any way to tell.

I have to find my body again, I told myself. If I find my body, I can simply climb back inside. In my imagination, I saw it working a lot like getting into a sleeping bag and zipping it up. Seemed easy enough. So why couldn’t I find my body?

It’s not yours any longer.

Startled, I tried to look around to see who had said that. But I couldn’t really look anywhere, much less see anything besides the billowing mist. Nor had I heard another voice, exactly, so much as I had perceived one.

I’m going back to the wine cellar, I decided. I want to be with Lucas. So I’m going to be with him—right now.

Just like that, I was with Lucas once more—but not in the wine cellar. He stood in the driveway of the Woodsons’ house; I seemed to be right behind him, as if I were peeking over his shoulder. Apparently it was nearly dawn; the sky had begun to go gray and stark. A car had just pulled into the driveway, and as we watched, a tall figure stepped out.

Balthazar strode across the grounds toward Lucas, his face drawn and tense. Bruises still showed on his skin, and he walked more slowly than he normally would, but obviously he had mostly recovered from his injures. “How is she?” he said. Then he got a good look at Lucas’s face and stopped in his tracks. “Oh, no.”

“She—” Lucas couldn’t get the words out. I could see the muscles in his jaw working, like he was struggling even to speak.

“She’s gone.”

“No.” Balthazar shook his head. His expression was flat, almost panicked. “No, you’re wrong.”

Lucas said, “Bianca is dead.”

His saying it made it real. I wanted to scream, but I couldn’t. I wanted to run, but that was impossible, too. There was no more hiding from what had happened.

Balthazar said, “Let me see her.” Lucas answered by stepping aside. As Balthazar rushed past him, he seemed to run through me—oh, that felt weird, but sort of amazing, because for one second, all Balthazar’s strength and desperation and love echoed inside me. It wasn’t like being alive, but it was something real, more real than I was.

As Balthazar ran into the wine cellar, he seemed to tow me after him. Maybe that was because of the way he’d run through me; I wasn’t sure. All I knew was that I felt myself flowing past the long corridors of wine bottles, toward Balthazar’s silhouette—and then past him, so that I was in the room, looking back at him, as he looked down at me.

My body lay exactly where I’d seen it last, when Lucas had shut my eyes. Balthazar stood there, staring down at me for a few long seconds like he couldn’t believe any of it. Then he slumped against the wall and just—fell. He slid down until he was on the floor, and he clenched his fists in his curly hair.

I tried to hover over my body; it looked fine to me. A little sick, maybe, but it didn’t really look any different from the way I guessed I did when I was sleeping. The only change was that I wasn’t breathing. And I could fix that, couldn’t I? All I had to do was hop back in.

Well, that sounded easy, but it wasn’t. I kept looking down at myself, trying to feel the same magnetic pull that both Lucas and Balthazar had on me now. If I could tap into that same energy, I reasoned, I’d be drawn back into my body and would be alive again.

But the pull never came.

After a while—several minutes, I thought, but I couldn’t be sure—Balthazar pushed himself to his feet. Behind him, I heard Lucas’s footsteps. Soon they stood together at the end of the bed, looking at me.

Balthazar’s voice was hoarse as he asked, “What happened?”

“It was like I said in the letter.” Lucas sounded so tired. I wondered how long it had been since he’d slept. “She just kept getting weaker and weaker. We knew there was nothing a doctor could do, so I just had to watch—”

Lucas swallowed hard. Balthazar hesitated, and I thought for a moment he might pat Lucas on the shoulder or something, but he didn’t.