“I didnt tell him I'd thought of him every day. That even when every other memory had faded, he never left. - Nikki”

“I told him about how Cole wanted me to return with him.I told him almost everything. I didn't talk about what had happened just before I left with Cole and I didn't tell him that the Tunnels of the Everneath were coming for me soon. Jack would freak out if he knew I was leaving again, and I didn't want to waste time trying to convince him it was hopeless.I didn't tell him I'd thought of him every day. That even when every other memory had faded,he never left.”

“I helped pull him up, although I doubted I was doing any of the actual work. Will was staring at me again. He turned away, toward Jack, and whisper-yelled, "I heard Nikki's back.""Yep," Jack grunted as Will stumbled over the curb. "She is.""How are you doin' with that news,little bro?"Jack looked at me when he answered. "Better every day.”

“When I was in the Everneath, I thought about Jack every day. Every minute. Even after I'd forgotten his name, the image of his face made me feel whole again. Was Jack the reason I'd survived? Were our ties to the Surface what somehow kept us whole?The one problem in the anchor theory was Meredith.She had a connection with her mom,yet she didn't survive. But then the more I thought about it, the more I realized Mrs. Jenkins didn't have a similar connection to Meredith. She forgot about Meredith the second the Feed began.Then it hit me.Orpheus didn't forget about Eurydice.He loved her the entire time she was gone. Maybe the attachment between Forfeit and anchor worked only when it went both ways.The drinking fountain next to me shuddered to life as a flash of intuition hit me.I knew now that Jack never forgot about me.He'd never stopped loving me.He was the anchor that saved me.And now he was gone.”

“I dreamed of you every night. It felt so real. And when I'd wake up the next morning, it was like your disappearance was fresh. Like you'd left me all over again.”

“Jack didn't try to speak to me the following day. Or the day after.Or the day after that.But he was in Mrs. Stone's classroom, in the seat next to mine, every day for an hour after school, the only sounds coming from our pencils scratching against our papers. And the days passed like this quickly. Too quickly.I stole glances at him.Sometimes he tucked his hair behind one ear, but mostly it hung loose around his face. Sometimes he had stubble,as if he were shaving every other day.Sometimes I was sure he could feel me staring.His lip would twitch,and I'd know he was about to turn toward me,so I would hurry and look at my paper.And sometimes I would read the same sentence in the textbook over and over, and at the end of the hour, the only thing I'd learned was that Jack liked to tap his eraser on his desk when he was stumped, and when he would stretch forward,his shirt lifted,exposing a tiny bit of skin on his back.”

“AT NIGHTMy bedroom,as I drift.Every night,Jack is with me.He lies down on his side, lengthwise on my bed,and props his head on my pillow. I mirrow his position. He places his hand over mine. I see it,but I don't feel it.We discovered long ago that we can't touch,even in our dreams. I am as much of a ghost to him as he is to me. We are a breath away-and a world apart-from each other.He doesn't know where he goes when he's not with me.He doesn't think he exists anymore,except for in my dreams.I think he is right.And I tell him to hang on.I will never stop dreaming of him.I will find him.”