And, to Amy’s horror, it seemed that moment was now upon her. The moon’s burgeoning glow had transformed the sky into a dome of solid white, just as her mother had said it would. But there was an even more disturbing development: it was beginning to snow. Thousands upon thousands of pirouetting little flakes were drifting down and settling everywhere—on their clothes, their boat, the surface of the water—slowly turning the world white.

“This is it. Here is where it has to be.” With a wave of her finger, Amy’s mother froze the oars midspin, tilted them to a forty-five-degree angle, and sent them plunging into the water. The boat came to a stop. “Don’t pay any attention to what’s happening. Don’t think about the snow, don’t think about the water. Focus on me, Amy.”

But this was hard when the weather was deteriorating so fast. The temperature was dropping, a strong breeze was building, and their boat was beginning to seesaw in the rapidly rising swells. Swirling gusts were whipping the snow into a frenzy. Conditions were turning hostile and blizzard-like, giant waves rising up around them. Hunkered down next to her mother, Amy wondered whether her spirit wanted her to go home at all.

“Hold on! This is going to get rough.”

“What’s going on?” Amy shrieked, her voice almost lost in the howl of the wind. “Is it me who’s doing this?”

“Your snow globe is collapsing. It’s the end.”

“But I can’t get out of the boat in this! Can’t we make it stop? Just for a minute!” Two waves struck the hull in quick succession and caused the boat to lurch violently to its side, nearly tipping them into the ocean.

“Amy, are you all right?”

Amy shook her head, snow and salt water blasting across her face. “I’m not saying goodbye like this, Mom. Not like this !”

“There’s nothing we can do.”

“It isn’t fair!”

“I know it isn’t, and I know so much has been asked of you already, but I need you to be strong. Think about your father, your friends, your life back home—think about everyone waiting for you! This is your last chance. The longer you stay, the worse it’s going to get. This is it, Amy! It’s time to go!”

“And if I don’t jump?”

“What?”

“What if I went with you instead?”

“Amy, no—”

“I mean it. You just told me I had a choice about where I go next. What if I’m ready to go with you? What if it’s my time, Mom?”

“It isn’t!”

“But what if it is?”