“Lily?” my mother says. She flicks her hand toward the waiter. “He’s waiting for your drink order.”

I shake my head and begin to stutter. “I’ll . . . um . . .”

“Three waters,” my mother says, interrupting my fumbled words. The waiter snaps out of his trance long enough to tap his pencil on his pad of paper.

“Three waters,” he says. “Got it.” He turns and walks away, but I watch as he glances back at me before pushing through the doors to the kitchen.

My mother leans forward and says, “What in the world is wrong with you?”

I point over my shoulder. “The waiter,” I say, shaking my head. “He looked exactly like . . .”

I’m about to say, “Atlas Corrigan,” when Ryle walks up and slides back into the seat.

He glances back and forth between us. “What’d I miss?”

I swallow hard, shaking my head. Surely that wasn’t really Atlas. But those eyes—his mouth. I know it’s been years since I saw him, but I’ll never forget what he looked like. It had to be him. I know it was and I know he recognized me, too, because the second our eyes met . . . it looked like he’d seen a ghost.

“Lily?” Ryle says, squeezing my hand. “You okay?”

I nod and force a smile, then clear my throat. “Yep. We were just talking about you,” I say, glancing back at my mother. “Ryle assisted in an eighteen-hour surgery this week.”

My mother leans forward with interest. Ryle begins to tell her all about the surgery. Our water arrives, but it’s a different waiter this time. He asks if we’ve had a chance to go over the menu and then tells us the chef’s specials. The three of us order our food and I’m doing everything I can to focus, but my attention is all over the restaurant looking for Atlas. I need to regroup. After a few minutes, I lean over to Ryle. “I need to run to the restroom.”

He stands up to let me out and my eyes are scanning the face of every waiter as I make my way across the room. I push through the door to the hallway that leads to the restrooms. As soon as I’m alone, my back meets the wall of the hallway. I lean forward and release a huge breath. I decide to take a moment and regain my composure before heading back out there. I bring my hands up to my forehead and close my eyes.

For nine years I’ve wondered what happened to him. Years.

“Lily?”

I glance up and suck in a breath. He’s standing at the end of the hallway like a ghost straight out of the past. My eyes travel to his feet to make sure he’s not suspended in the air.

He isn’t. He’s real, and he’s standing right in front of me.

I stay pressed against the wall, not sure what to say to him. “Atlas?”