“How is… how is this possible? We’re deep in the woods.”

“It’s an illusion,” Xander says. “We’ve been building the magic of this place for so long that it can make almost anything feel real—think of what you want, and it can be behind any door. I meant for it to be your happy place, though, not mine.”

I swallow the lump in my throat. “No. This was mine, too. My mom loved the beach.”

A wave breaks on a rock to my right, and droplets of salt water coat my face.

“Why is it yours?” I ask, but I can already guess the answer. He looks like a piece of him gets tugged out from shore with each wave.

“My brother loved it. We both loved it. He wanted to surf, though, and my parents only ever let us use boogie boards. They said he could paddle out with the sharks when he turned eighteen if he wanted.” He chuckles. “Our mom wasn’t a fan of the ocean.”

“Your parents… do they know what you are?”

He swallows. “They blamed me for taking him to that party. They never said it outright, but I saw it on their faces every time I visited. I don’t visit anymore.”

It looks like a surfer rides a wave out in the distance.

“Is that…?” My heart beats a little harder as I glance around the beach, like I might see Mom kneeling down in the waves, washing the sand from a shell she’ll string onto a necklace later.

“No. No illusion is strong enough to make the dead seem real,” Xander whispers.

“But this is something,” I say.

I sit down in the sand and tuck my knees up to my chest. Xander sits beside me—close enough for my shoulder to press into his upper arm. We may not have who we lost, but there’s some wholeness in pressing two broken things together, even if they don’t quite fit.

We sit there for a long time and watch the sun get swallowed in the flaming horizon.

At some point, Xander takes off his shoes and splashes into the waves, but I don’t.

Mom never did teach me to swim. We were always at the beach, but she said it wasn’t the place to swim. The waves were too aggressive for learning such a delicate thing.

I can picture it so easily: me trying to dive into the water just to see where it would take me, and her hand gripping mine, keeping me onshore, her voice saying, Power like that will swallow you up, Ava.

CHAPTER 11

Just over a week later, Xander smiles at me from a stone bench, legs stretched out before him. I’ve just sunk my knife into the cherry tree for the hundredth time.