“We call it Infinity. It was created from human consciousness.” Her blue eyes shine. “When a human’s physical body dies, their consciousness needs somewhere to go. This is that place—a world where you can live forever after.”

I glance at the pill in her hand and then toward another window on the other side of the room. I force myself to stand—to move—and as I push the glass open, the scenery floods my senses like I’m experiencing life for the first time.

Trees cover the landscape for miles, a thousand shades of speckled green stretched across the earth. The sky is painted in swirls of milky lavender and rosy pink. And far off in the distance, a mountain curves into a crescent, a powerful burst of water flowing over the edge and into a gleaming lake below.

Every color is vibrant and rich. The scent of honeysuckles and fresh fruit lingers in my nostrils. I can hear a birdsong that calls like a gentle lullaby, but it fills my ears with such beauty and emotion that I feel my eyes start to water.

Paradise. It really exists.

And I’m…

Clearing my throat, I pull away from the window. “I’m sorry.” I run a knuckle against a few stray tears. “Could I maybe have a minute alone? It’s a lot to take in.”

The woman stands, and the pill disappears back into her fist. “Of course, Nami. When you’re ready, I’ll be in the sitting room down the hall.”

I nod. “Okay. Thanks.”

When she’s gone, I look back out the window. There’s a balcony below, with white marble floors and elegant stone pillars. An intricate mix of leaves and feathers are carved into the rock face, and archways dripping with lush ivy and snow-white hydrangeas connect each column.

There are people scattered near the railing, breathing in the fresh air and smiling in the sunlight. They look ridiculously happy—euphoric even. They’re dressed like me, but most of them have gray hair and worn faces. The youngest is a man barely older than my dad.

Nobody is close to my age. None of them died when they were only eighteen years old.

I swallow the generous lump in my throat and shut my eyes to the unfairness of it all. It surprises me, to feel such a horrible bitterness inside of me. Isn’t the afterlife supposed to be pleasant? Isn’t that what everyone says—that when you die, you go somewhere better, if you go anywhere at all?