The Key to Fear - Kristin Cast Page 0,87

sake of hitting the pavement, just to feel that second of nothingness between VR and real life. The cessation of breath before the next inhale.

The first time it had happened—the first time Astrid had died in VR—Elodie had almost puked. Astrid’s body slammed into the replica Dubai street and dissolved into a pixelated mass of colors before sinking into the ground and disappearing completely. At least VR didn’t leave a lot of corpses lying around.

Booted from the sim, Astrid had been back in Elodie’s earpiece a moment later. “Did you see that?! What. A. Rush!”

Elodie had fallen to her knees. The blacktop sliced off a few centimeters of her bare kneecaps as the glitchy program struggled to interpret her sudden movement. “I thought you were dead!”

Astrid had scoffed. “You can’t die in VR, El. It’s not real.” Even now, Elodie could practically hear her friend roll her eyes. “Wait right where you are. I’m logging back in and doing it again.”

But this morning, Elodie would have done anything to know she was meeting Astrid here to talk like they used to. She’d do anything to have another chance at mustering the courage to jump from the high point of the building, following her best friend up, just to succumb to nerves at the last minute and ride the smooth elevator back down to the ground.

Everything was supposed to change when she married Rhett. Not now. Not like this. Why couldn’t she live her life, experiment with it, have fun with it, without it all falling to pieces? Her life was hers. Wasn’t it?

Navy and green-checkered shoes shuffled noiselessly into Elodie’s periphery, tearing her from her memories. Astrid’s avatar looked haggard, tired, like the stress from last night had seeped through and infected this fake world.

Elodie’s ankle started to ache and she unfolded and refolded her legs beneath her. She stiffened. Her ankle ached. Since the update, she’d only been in VR to fulfill her nursing assignments. Within those programs, it was normal to feel temperatures and textures. Those aspects were programmed into all simulations. It’s what made the virtual feel more real. But pain was different. Pain was new.

Astrid cleared her throat and scraped the toe of her shoe against the pavement. “Feels like it’s been forever since we’ve been here together.” She let out a weary sigh as she adjusted her toolbelt, another custom VR accessory covered in small silver boxes, and tucked her legs underneath her to join Elodie on the sand dusted blacktop.

Elodie brushed sparkling granules from her leggings, blinking frantically as the breeze picked up the sand and tossed it back against her lashes. “There’s more sand than there used to be.”

Astrid let out a dry chuckle. “It’s always been the same. You’re just used to watching me.” She pointed at the blanket of blue above. “You’re used to looking up.”

“Change in perspective, I guess.” Elodie felt the words so deep her chest ached.

Astrid grabbed a fistful of sand and let the golden specks drain between her fingers as she lifted her hand.

Elodie continued quickly. “I’m glad you decided to meet me.”

Astrid remained silent. Her ponytail slid off her shoulders as her head hung from her neck like an anchor.

“Look, Astrid, I know what you saw—” Elodie began.

Astrid turned to face her, her upturned eyes red rimmed and awash in tears. “I’m sorry.” She brushed her hands against her moist, pale cheeks, leaving streaks of sand in their wake. “So, so sorry.”

Elodie’s fingers were numb. Her body cold, each cell frosted with fear. She couldn’t breathe. It was all over. Aiden had said his last name would save them from any real consequences, but that wasn’t true. His last name protected him, not her. Elodie would be shipped to Rehabilitation. There was no way Rhett would be there when she returned. The carefully planned lines of her carefully plotted life would be erased. New sharp edges and stiff cliffs penciled in over the ghost of what had been.

And Gwen.

Bile burned the back of Elodie’s throat.

What will my mother say?

Astrid’s chest heaved and she buried her face into her palms. “I shouldn’t have.”

Elodie finally managed to push words past her clenched teeth. “It’s okay.”

“I’m so, so sorry. So sorry. So sorry …” Astrid repeated again and again.

The muffled words tumbled against Elodie’s ears until they’d lost meaning and became just another noise swallowed by the wind.

“Me too,” she said. Elodie was sorry. Not for the kiss. Never for the kiss. Aiden was right. If that’s how her