I’ve become so accustomed to my father’s dark pain and the tangible tension in the air by which I can tell he’s there, that I didn’t notice that there’s been a shift. His shimmering pain has turned to a gentle light, which is far more scary. It’s like the quiet that follows the final note of a symphony, the silence of a final exhalation, an empty room.

I hurriedly put down the book, get up, and open the curtain that has been drawn between C7 and Maddie. Eddie is still sleeping, with her hand on my father’s chest. I take a step closer, searching for him but not finding him.

“Dad?” I whisper. “Dad!” He’s gone. He’s no longer here!

One stride and I’m at his side, touching his hand. Please, please, let him merely be sleeping! Panic steals my breath. I check the machines. Pulse, heartbeat, sleep phase. Peaks and troughs and spikes. He’s alive, but he’s gone, I know it. His body is completely deserted.

It’s as if he has entered a zone that Dr. Saul didn’t sketch out. An unfamiliar zone between coma and death. An area between life and death, which no one has identified because it’s always moving.

I glance at Maddie, then back at my father, then at the heart monitors, and for one absurd moment I have the feeling that their two hearts are perfectly attuned, beating in time as if they were walking side by side. This moment lasts for a few seconds, but the lines suddenly diverge. Maddie’s heartbeat accelerates and my father’s slows down more and more.

I know what’s about to happen and yet I’m powerless to move or call out. It’s like a countdown to something, as my father’s heartbeat falters. Four, three, two, one, zero: everything happens exactly as planned, in every respect.

Henri

Each time the oar dips into the water, breaking the reflection of the sky and the stars, I see Eddie’s face on the surface and watch her wake up. I see Sam as he realizes, and then I’m ready.

The sea is calm beneath a sunny winter’s day. This color was always my favorite—this bright metallic blue, as translucent as glass, the same shade as the sky.

I stand up and the boat wobbles. I pull in the oars. I won’t need them again. Then I leap into the water. I have to dive deep to find the girl. The sea has taken her far, far down. It wants to keep her there among the rocks and the shells and the dread. Her hair floats around her head like seaweed.