“Of course you can,” I say. When Jacob pulled me out of the land of the living, I pulled him out of the land of the dead. As long as I’ve known him, he’s been able to move between our world and the Veil. That’s how he can exist so far from the place where he drowned. That’s how he can haunt me, wherever I go.

“Take my hand,” I say.

He does, and I try to ignore how fragile his fingers feel—not so much skin and bone as humid air—as I reach for the curtain. But it doesn’t work. I can feel the Veil, waiting, but when I try to pull it aside and step through, Jacob’s hand slips from mine, turns to nothing. Like he’s not even there.

“It’s okay,” he says, his voice tight.

But it’s not okay.

I turn toward Lara, who’s been looking carefully away. As if she knew this would happen.

“You always said that Jacob and I were tangled up, and that’s why he was getting stronger,” I say to her. “So something came untangled back there on the bridge. How do I fix it?”

“Cassidy,” she says softly. “Maybe it is fixed.”

“Then help me unfix it!”

“Cass,” starts Jacob, “we knew this might—”

“No,” I snap, turning on him. “I almost lost you twice, and I’m not doing it again. I’m not saying goodbye. I shouldn’t have to.” I jab him in the chest. “We fought Death, and we won. So no, I’m not giving up on you. You’re Jacob Ellis Hale, you’re not like other ghosts, and you don’t belong in the Veil. You belong with me. And I’m not going home without you. Understand?”

Jacob nods.

I squeeze his hand, as tight as I can, as if I can pour some of my life back into him. I imagine the blue-white light inside my chest spreading down my arm and through my fingers, wrapping around Jacob’s like a rope.

He brightens a little, a tiny bit of color slipping back into his clothes, his skin.

And something inside me breaks, because I know it’s not enough.

He’s still too ghostly, too gray.

And then Lara reaches out and takes his other hand.

“Come on, Ghost,” she says, squeezing tight. I can almost see the red light of her life, spreading down her fingers and into his. I can only hope it will be enough.

I take a deep breath and reach for the Veil again. And this time, I feel the gray cloth catch in my hand. I grab the curtain tight, and pull it aside.

And hand in hand in hand, we take a step, and fall.

Chapter Twenty-Five

The sun is going down over New Orleans.