The possessive side of me suddenly wants to hold on to Chase, to take this moment in time and freeze it forever. Instead, I allow us to flow forward. This trip has already changed both of us in so many ways. We can never go back to the way things were before, so why try?

“But who is going to think things through for me?” I say, nudging Chase.

“And who is going to take the leaps for me?” he says, nudging me back.

“I guess we’ll have to keep doing those things for ourselves?”

Chase hooks his arm through mine, and we walk forward together—even though we know we’re about to walk in very different directions. It feels empowering and terrifying at the same time.

“Well, we’ve certainly learned we’re capable of a lot more than we ever thought, huh?” Chase asks.

“Chase,” I begin, taking my time with these final words. “I think we’re capable of anything we set our minds to.”

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“You decided to become a Guide for The Lianist Way, didn’t you?” I ask.

Chase nods, looking a little guilty. “I mean, I’m still going to college. I probably won’t be back here until next summer, but—”

“You don’t have to justify it,” I interrupt. “I’m walking away because I think it’s the best way to keep the tarot alive in my life, especially after this last discovery. But if this is your way of keeping that same tradition, I totally get that.”

Chase pauses, walking several silent beats before responding.

“Thank you. It’s new for me, the idea of belonging to an organized spirituality. But this feels… right. Just like it’s new for me to make decisions totally on my own. But I think between you and Logan, I’ve gotten too used to being someone’s other half. I think I need to find the whole version of myself.”

It stings to hear these words. My instinct is to clamp down, to keep Chase by my side as my loyal best friend. Instead, I let that instinct flow away. Instead, I remember what my own renewed self is trying to learn: to believe in myself without anyone else’s stamp of approval. In an opposite kind of way, it’s a reflection of what Chase is striving for, too.

“Maybe Cain was on to something with that whole phoenix motif?” I laugh. “Maybe we do have to burn away some of our old lives to enter the ones we want?”

“Maybe, but here’s the thing about phoenixes,” Chase replies. “Even reborn shiny and new, they’re still the same old birds. They still rise from their own ashes, not someone else’s.”

Chase turns to me as we continue walking, hooking his arm through mine.

“Some things about us will never change. And for me, that’s having Amelia Piccolo as my best friend.”