Magic, science, and the devil. But no alien believers in this circle.

“Okay, so I get not having proof,” Orion says. “But do you have any reasons why you would sign up? Kind of personal, my bad. You don’t have to answer if you’re not an aggressive open book. I know we’re strangers.”

“I’d call us friends-in-the-making,” I say.

“I like that,” he says.

“Do you dish for friends-in-the-making?” Dalma asks.

I nod. “The short story is that my sister, Scarlett, got into a really bad car accident in May. Getting that call that she was being rushed to the hospital didn’t make sense. She’s my sister, my twin. She’s also a dream driver. I’ve definitely texted a few times while driving, but never Scarlett. Her phone is off and her eyes are on the road. But this distracted driver crashed right into her.”

It’s not fair how someone can do everything right and still be hurt because someone else does one thing wrong.

“Holy shit,” Orion says.

“I didn’t know how I was supposed to live without her. Every thought in that direction seemed so horrific, even the simple things. There’s no way I could’ve eaten birthday cake that’s for both of us. Or acted like the right side of the couch wasn’t automatically reserved for her.”

“I’m so happy she’s okay,” Orion says.

“She sounds like an incredible spirit,” Dalma says.

“Though I bet you’re pumped to swap cars for trains,” Orion says.

“That’s what’s so funny about Scarlett,” I say. “Once she recovered from surgery, she got right back behind the wheel. She wasn’t going to let that near-death experience stop her from living her life.”

I’ll never forget how tense it was when Scarlett drove again for the first time. I got in the car with her, which couldn’t have helped with the pressure of driving again, but I wasn’t not going to be there for her. Scarlett was great—she started the engine, checked her mirror, pulled out of the driveway, and drove one test lap around our gated community before turning off onto the highway, bringing me along for her errands to replace all her camera equipment that got damaged in the crash.

Just like a phoenix, she was reborn.

“Anyway, that’s why I’m tempted to sign up for Death-Cast. I don’t ever want to mistake another day as ordinary again.” I look around, wondering who has and who hasn’t opted into the service. “I understand that the person who gets the Death-Cast call isn’t the only one dying. If you really hold someone in your heart, you die too.”

I take a deep breath, knowing I’m fully alive.