There's a sort of dead passion in him. A spark that, had he more years to live, would be a wildfire.

My sisters were in that van.

Poor kid,' Jenna says, and rolls her eyes toward me for a moment. Then she returns to her book. 'She doesn't even understand what kind of place this is.

The months fall to shards at my feet.

And then I wonder, does my brother think of me this way? We entered this world together, one after the other, beats in a pulse. But I will be first to leave it. That's what I've been promised. When we were children, did he dare to imagine an empty space beside him where I then stood giggling, blowing soap bubbles through my fingers? When I die, will he be sorry that he loved me? Sorry that we were twins? Maybe he already is.

Gabriel's voice can reach me anywhere. Even in a hurricane.

It was a terrible decision, and I confess I'd make it again.