Making the afterlife safe for humans has always been the goal, but it used to be such a faraway, abstract concept. I guess I never really stopped to imagine what a better future would look like. What it would feel like.

“Do you think it’s possible to spend a day without being afraid of anything?” I ask, almost too quiet for him to hear.

I feel his heart beating beneath his shirt. “Whatever your fears, you don’t have to carry them alone,” he replies softly. “I’ll carry them for you, if you’ll let me.”

I close my eyes, hooking my arm tighter around him. Gil has been through more than anyone I know. He deserves to be free. He deserves an afterlife without fear.

I want to believe a small part of me deserves that too.

Which is why I can’t turn back now. I have to see this through to the end.

The future is so much bigger than my own heart.

“Thank you,” I say. “But I think this is something I need to do on my own.”

He rests his cheek against my hair. “I believe in you. And I haven’t believed in anything in a very long time.”

We lie together on his couch, staring at the ceiling with our bodies close, twisting our fingers together like we have all the time in the world.

46

WHEN I LOOK IN THE mirror, I don’t see myself at all.

My dark hair is pulled into a tight braid starting at the top of my head and trailing down to my back. Tiny crystal leaves are woven through each strand, making my hair glitter like I’m from another world.

Layers of white silk flow from my shoulders to the floor, the edges flickering with silver. Material sweeps down past my wrists, the fabric cut to expose the skin at the sides of my arms.

On my left wrist, I wear the Reaper.

I see Gil in the reflection and turn around, pressing my hands against my stomach nervously.

The ghost of a smile appears on his face. He holds up a silver mask, clawed at the ends like bird talons. It’s a replica of Naoko’s from Tokyo Circus, the mask I watched my dad draw in his basement, over and over again like it was a familiar friend.

And Gil made it for me.

“This is for tonight,” he says. “You can’t go to a masquerade without a mask.”

“I thought I was already wearing one,” I say with a small smile. I let my eyes drift over the intricate grooves of his present. “This is beautiful, Gil. How did you know?”

He lifts his brows like he’s asking for permission, and when I nod, he places the mask over my eyes. “I saw it in your memories, the first day we met.”