The gray spaceship floats atop the water, Prem’s lean frame balanced on top, his hair tousled and a big smile on his face. He dives under the spaceship and around the back, darting through the water with speed and agility. A long stream of water from the neon green sprayer arcs through the air and nearly reaches her, but not quite. He laughs. “Kiki,” he calls out, waving to her. “Kiki, come in!” As she steps in further, she feels the water level rise to her calves, her waist, her chest. Slowly, she descends the last few inches and glides through the water.

She is not yet ready to do this, but one day, she will be. Prem will be with her, not haunting, but encouraging her, just as he did at the shores of the ocean. Karina breathes deeply, reclaiming the memory of a boy who loved life, who loved the water, who lived with joy.

50 | Prem

There are so many ways to die without actually leaving the world: You can cut off a piece of yourself, or your feelings. You can stop doing the things you love, or lose sight of your dreams and goals. You can separate yourself from those who love you, or you can never be willing to find love at all. You can withdraw from the world, or you can go through life without seeking anything bigger than yourself. These may all look like ways of living, but they’re not. They’re ways of dying.

We are fortunate to get a turn on this rotating planet, however long it is. I had only eight years on the merry-go-round, which means I got to eat the frosting off the cupcake, but next time, I’d like to stay longer. I’ve watched the people I love most in the world endure grief, loneliness and pain. The hardest part is knowing that I changed the shape of my family. We weren’t perfect Before, but we were something strong and beautiful together. They are finding their way now—Mom, Dad and Kiki—finding a new way to take formation without me. I know their peace and happiness comes at a cost: they have to think of me a little less. They have to learn to keep the best parts of me, the parts they can remember with a smile.

I have been with them ever since that day. They can see me in the sun peeking out from the clouds, in the cool breeze on a hot day, in the feeling they have when they remember me and smile. I am always there. Just like the air, just like the water.

Acknowledgments

I was fortunate to have not one but two thoughtful, astute editors who helped guide this novel to its final form. Thank you to Kate Nintzel of William Morrow/HarperCollins and Iris Tupholme of HarperCollins Canada for their personal attention, insights and patience.

I am grateful to the many people at William Morrow/HarperCollins who helped usher this book into the world and who have championed my work over the past decade, including Liate Stehlik, Jen Hart, Amelia Wood, Kelly Rudolph, Bianca Flores, Vedika Khanna and many others in the publicity, marketing, production, art and sales departments. Thanks to Tessa Woodward for picking my first novel out of the slush pile, and to Carrie Feron for making it a success. I feel fortunate that Mumtaz Mustafa has designed beautiful and artistic covers for each and every one.