“Come outside,” says the doctor. “We need to talk.”

And in the bed, Lara’s eyelids flutter. Her mouth opens and closes, and she says, in little more than a whisper, “Please don’t go.”

But they don’t hear her.

The doctor leads her parents out into the hall. And Lara rolls over in her fevered sleep.

I can feel the heat wafting off her skin. A reddish glow in the air, just like the light inside her chest.

And I realize: This is her river.

This is the moment she almost died.

And that’s why we’re here. That’s what the Bridge of Souls is for. That’s what the Emissary wants. To change our fates. To set things right.

But this didn’t happen.

I didn’t drown, and Lara won’t burn out like a light. I won’t let her.

“Lara.” I reach out and take her hand. It’s hot, but I don’t let go. I squeeze. “Wake up.”

She murmurs in her sleep. “Why?”

“Because this isn’t real,” I say. “It’s just a dream.”

“Bad dream,” she whispers. She sounds far away. The pulse on the hospital monitor is too slow. Her breathing is too shallow. My hand is burning up in hers, but I don’t let go.

“You have to wake up,” I say.

“I’m so tired,” she murmurs.

I get it. I’m tired, too.

I want to lie down beside her on the bed.

I want to, but when I look down at our hands, I see the red thread on my wrist, a reminder to come back.

In the bed, Lara’s breath hitches, and I don’t know if it’s sweat or tears running down her face. “They never stay,” she whispers.

I look through the hospital window, to the man and woman in the hall, talking frantically with the doctor. I can’t hear what they’re saying, because Lara never did, but they look upset. They look frightened. Helpless.

But even if they can’t help, I can.

I just have to figure out how.

If she were a ghost, I could hold up a mirror. Show her what I see, remind her who she is. But she’s not a ghost, not yet, so I’ll just have to tell her instead.

“Listen to me, Lara,” I say as she curls up smaller on the bed. “You’re the smartest person I know, and I need you to teach me, to show me, to save me from all the stupid, reckless decisions I’ll make, because Jacob can’t.”

“Ghost,” she whispers, with just a shadow of her normal disdain. But it’s a shadow, and I hold on to it.