he’d want to spend time with me.
My pulse speeds up. Maybe he hasn’t reconsidered anything. Maybe, like me, the hours only made him miss me more. Maybe his mind is telling him one thing, and his body, his heart, his soul are telling him another. I can always wish.
I serve up the last of the stew. A few more people trickle by and grab bowls, but pretty soon, it’s obvious no one else is coming.
“Have you eaten?” he asks, his breath tickling my shoulder.
“I sampled the stew so many times, I’m stuffed.”
“Come on, then. I want to show you something.”
He takes a bowl of stew for himself and leads me through the village. We walk a quarter-mile into the woods and slip behind a wall of trees.
My breath catches. Green tufts of grass poke through the brightly colored leaves littering the ground, and butterflies flit among the purple wildflowers. The trees shield us from the wind and noise. Maybe from the entire outside world.
“How’d you find this place?” I ask.
“Mikey showed it to me. He likes to come here when he needs to think.”
We sit on a log nestled against a tree, and he digs into his stew. We don’t talk as he eats, but this silence feels different than the one we’ve been used to for five years. It’s not filled with unspoken words and hurt feelings. It’s not like the whining of the dentist’s drill a moment before it descends. It’s just…nice.
Logan scoops up a piece of carrot and picks up the bowl to drink the broth. “This is delicious.”
Simple words. I’ve heard them dozens of times this evening. But coming from Logan, the compliment makes me giddy. “Thank you.”
“I feel bad being the only one eating.” He fishes out a hunk of venison and holds it up. “Here, have some.”
“I don’t want to take your food.”
He brings the meat to my mouth, as if to feed me. “Go ahead. I’ll enjoy my dinner more if I have company.”
Hesitantly, I lean forward and take the meat from his hand. As soon as my lips brush his fingers, a spark shoots through me, a lone firework that sizzles every nerve in my body. The flavor of the venison is hearty and rich. I should know; I seasoned it myself. And yet, it’s nothing compared to the taste of Logan’s skin. Soft but firm. Warm. Slightly salty and all-the-way irresistible.
The sun’s fallen behind the trees, and I sneak a look at Logan in the dimming light. He’s not mine to keep, but Angela said to focus on the day-to-day. That means enjoying the view in front of me, even if it’s temporary.
“What?” he says, and I realize I’m staring.
Flushing, I drop my gaze. “Nothing. I, uh, wanted to tell you about this weird…thing… that happened to me. I think it’s some kind of psychic ability, but I’m not sure if it’s my power or Jessa’s.”
He turns to face me, pulling an ankle over his knee. “Go on.”
“I had this vision. Or maybe it was a dream, I’m not sure. But it felt like a future memory, except I was seeing it through my sister’s eyes.”
I tell him about sitting on my mother’s lap, feeling sad, and speculate whether this vision has anything to do with TechRA arresting Jessa in the future.
When I finish, his brows furrow. “I’ve got an idea. It’s a long shot, but if it works, it might give us some answers.”
“What is it?”
“I want you to open your mind, like we were taught in the Meditation Core.”
I frown. “Why? What are you going to do?”
“I’m not going to do anything. I just want to see what happens.”
All of a sudden, I feel the stiff breeze cutting through my thin clothes. An experiment. A logical one, since the last vision came from unintentionally opening my mind. But what if I repeat the experience? What if I don’t?
Only one way to find out.
Open. What is open? The hole at the top of Mikey’s hut. The carcass of the deer, split open at the ribs. The hollowed-out center of the log we’re sitting on. Open, open, open.
I look for it, I wait for it—and yes! There it is. That rush of something filling my fingernails and teeth, my eyelashes and toes.
My memory. Jessa’s memory. Whoever’s memory. OPEN.
I’m straddling a metal plank inside an open pod. My hands grip the handles on either side of me. I fly into the air and fall back down again. Up in the air, and