A combination of emotions I hadn’t known possible, or could be this intense, flooded my body, swelling up from my heart and spreading across every square inch of me, growing, ballooning, expanding to the point where I thought I’d burst. Fear followed by relief, and then anger, which turned into elation, but that transformed itself into hatred before, finally, settling on love. Jumbled waves of conflicting feelings washed over me, all of them coupled with the knowledge, the absolute certainty Jack was alive. He was alive. He hadn’t drowned. He wasn’t dead. I’d found him.

My joy shifted back to terror as I panicked. This was all a dream. I’d wake up in my bed in Brookmount, the space next to me empty and cold. If this was a dream, if I was imagining any of this, I never, ever wanted to wake up.

I reached out to touch Jack’s face, searching for confirmation he was real, but when I stared into his eyes, the smile that had taken over my face faded, and I lowered my arm. He was different somehow. It was him, no question, but something had changed. With the small frown on his face, I almost expected him to reprimand me for being here.

“Jack,” I said again, a whisper this time. “It’s you. It’s really you.”

I couldn’t wait any longer, and flung my arms around him, pulled him close, burying my head in his chest. His clothes smelled of a different kind of laundry detergent, but the scent of his skin, the warmth of his neck, were exactly as I remembered. We’d been apart a little over a week but standing in the middle of the sidewalk on Newdale’s Main Street, I realized how my memories had begun to fade no matter how hard I’d tried to cling to them. I wanted to hold him forever, felt his hands on my arms, expected him to pull me closer and whisper my name, but instead he gently pushed me away and took a step back, creating a chasm between us.

“Why didn’t you come home?” I said, and before he was able to say a word, another surge of anger rose from within. Unable to tame or get it back under control, I yelled at him. “How could you do this? How could you disappear? Why did you say your name was Jack? Who are you? What are you doing here?”

“Hey,” Maya said, putting a hand on my arm.

I shook her off, my chest heaving. “Why did you leave? Do you have any idea what you put me through?”

He stared at me. “I don’t know—”

“What the hell do you mean, you don’t know?”

“Enough,” Maya said. “You need to back the hell off, lady. Now.”

“And you,” I snapped, finally turning my attention to her. “You lied. You told me his name was Gordon, and—”