“About Parker? You can’t even say it! Your brother KILLED my sister. Quinn, do you not get it?” My eyes prick with tears. My throat is tight. I feel like I can’t breathe.

Focus, I remind myself. I stare at the tree that’s just across the creek. I have to get there. I have to make things right.

“He did,” Quinn says, her voice breaking a little. “I know he did, but—”

“There’s no but,” I say. “Don’t you get it?”

“I do,” Quinn says, and her voice sounds thick with tears, but I can’t make out her face through the rain.

“Do you, though? I don’t think you do. And until you do, you can’t help me. I’m going to fix this all on my own—”

“Core, I don’t know if we can—”

There’s another crash of thunder. It rattles my bones. All I want right now is my sister. I want her to rub my back. I want her to tell me that the sky is only putting on a show.

“Don’t you dare say it,” I say. “Don’t you dare tell me that I can’t fix it. I have to be able to fix it. I have to.”

My throat is raw from screaming and my eyes are blurry from the rain. “I have to do this. If—” I won’t even say it. I won’t voice any doubt. I stretch my foot out to the first rock.

My sneaker slips, but I make it.

“Cora!” Quinn yells. “Don’t!”

“I’m going to do this, Quinn. You’ll see.”

The creek water rushes up around my ankles. It’s freezing cold.

I squint to try and make out the shadowy outline of the next rock I’ll need to jump to in order to make it across.

I can do this.

I have to do this. I have to do this for Mabel.

I jump. I hear Quinn scream.

There is a rush of water. I see my sister’s face.

I see her. I see her. I see her.

Thirty-Four

Quinn

Dear Parker,

I can’t fix what you did.

I’ll never understand it.

It will never be okay.

Your sister,

Quinn

It’s like something out of a horror film. It happens so fast, but it’s also painfully slow—Cora jumping to the next rock, slipping, and hitting her head with a sickening thud. The sound of her skull colliding with the rocks is something I will never ever be able to forget. No matter how much I want to.

My body reacts before my mind. I run toward the creek. The water is up to my waist as I reach out for her. The current pushes against me, threatening to shove me downstream.

“Cora! Cora! Cora!” I shout, but she doesn’t answer me.

The water is rushing over her body. Her head lolls, dipping into the current.

I grab her wrist, tightly wrapping my fingers around it. She doesn’t move. I keep pulling, trying to drag her to me, but she is so heavy.