“I guess a case of nerves could survive even death”

“Jillian,” I whispered, “I know you don’t know who I am. But I love your brother, and I know you do too. So . . . do you think you could wake up? Do you think you could at least try?” For far too long she gave me no response. I’d just about given up—hung my head and prepared myself for the inevitable, impossible job of comforting Joshua—when Jillian whispered back. “I guess. Since you asked so nicely.” In spite of everything, a quiet laugh escaped my lips. “Thank God. Because I have a feeling you’d be a huge pain in the ass if you died.”

“My sense of direction would be the death of me. Metaphorically, at least.”

“I play DJ, and you tell me what you like.” “Got it,” I said with a firm nod, fighting little jitters of excitement. “And who knows? Maybe something will be familiar. As long as it’s not death metal, I think we can rule you out as a potential Satan worshiper.”

“So . . . this means we’re buried in the same cemetery?” He nodded, and then the tiniest smile crept over his features. When he spoke again, his tone had lost some of its bitter edge. “More proof that we’re fated to be together, don’t you think?” “If that were the case, Eli, I’d have a whole graveyard full of choices, wouldn’t I?”

“My parents’ names are Rebecca and Jeremiah, by the way,” he whispered as I approached him. I laughed, jittery. “Got it. So even though they’ll be too busy screaming at you, and they can’t hear me anyway, I’ll at least be able to address them properly?”

“See you soon,” I whispered. I bit my lip; and, in a moment of sheer abandon, I added, “I think I might . . . you know . . . love you, by the way.” “Too,” Joshua whispered back groggily. “Love.”