While I can hear my father banging around in the kitchen below, I can't bring myself to leave my room. Instead, I slide open my window and climb out onto the fire escape. I've spent many an angst-ridden night out here; kissing boys that only went on to break my heart, hiding away when I was too tired or fed-up to work my assigned shift in the restaurant, crying when I didn't get into my dream college. It feels like now I'm looking back at those memories from a distance, through a pair of binoculars. It doesn't feel like they belong to me anymore.
My first order of business is to text Analia and Eric, to explain everything and to apologize for ghosting them. Surprisingly, it's infinitely more difficult to type out the truth than to speak it, but after a while I manage to get all of the words down. Once I send the messages, I immediately silence my phone and toss it through the window so that it lands on my rug. I'm not interested in more pity or explanations right now; instead, my mind is preoccupied with the things my mother and Sarah had told me last night.
If anyone had asked me just a month or so ago what I thought about ghosts, visions, or any kind of mysticism, I would have laughed straight in their face and assumed they were high. But I've experienced too much now to think that my dream last night was anything but real.
What is your unfinished business?
I don't know, I think instinctively, but that feels just as false as saying that I want to stay here in New York. The city rushes by below me like a living whirlwind, and while I can appreciate the memories I've made here, it doesn't fit anymore. It doesn't make me happy.
So what does make me happy? I watch a middle-aged couple through the window in the apartment building across the street. They sit comfortably side-by-side in recliners and sip on mugs of coffee, laughing at something that glares at them from the television. I know what I want.
Death. The answer is simple; so simple that I'm not sure how I've been denying it so easily. But there's more to it than that; I don't just want to be with Death. I want to help his residents, the same way that I helped Sarah and Paul and Louis. I want to teach them about the world. I want to keep Mem company during her busiest shifts. I want to be the mother that Lisa lost. I want to dance with Death next Halloween, and the one after that, and every one after.
But the question is: how do I get around Love and her strict rules? How do I ensure that by achieving my unfinished business, I don't doom Death at the same time? Before I drown too much in my own despair, something that Sarah had said itches in my brain: Become part of the balance. How do I do that, if humans have no part to play in the business of Immortals?
All of a sudden, I feel as if the air has been knocked from my lungs. I bolt up to my feet. "Holy shit." The answer was there the entire time; how could I have been so stupid as not to notice it? "Holy shit."
I rush back into my room, get dressed, brush my teeth, shove as many clothes as I possibly can into my largest suitcase, and rush downstairs. I nearly run into my Dad as he leaves the kitchen, a towel slung over his shoulder. He only has to glance at my face and the bag in my hand once to realize the truth – or at least part of it.
"You're leaving again."
"Not for good. But...Yes." I grab his hand before he can argue. "Dad, there was something I didn't tell you about my time away. I found the most wonderful small town, and while I was there I...met someone. Someone who I love." I pause, realizing that it's the first time I've truly admitted it. A giggle slips out of me; a freaking giggle. "I know I sound so completely insane right now, and that's okay. But I finally know where I belong, Dad. I have friends and purpose and a future that doesn't terrify me."
My Dad says nothing for a moment, his face growing redder by the minute, and I think that he's about to yell or slam his fist against the kitchen door. But then his shoulders sag and he presses his forehead to mine. "Love is never insane, Cara. When I met your mother, everyone told me I was crazy for wanting to be with her. We – your mother and I - just want you to be happy, and healthy, and if this place can do that for you, who am I to stop you? All I ask is that you don't go silent on me like last time."
"I won't. I promise." His easy acceptance of my admission actually makes me nervous, makes everything feel more real. Suddenly, I'm three feet tall again and playing on the floor with unrolled silverware. Is this the right choice? I remind myself that this isn't goodbye; it's the start to a brand new chapter. "I'll take care of myself. And I will visit all of the time."
"You better! And I can visit you and your partner, too." He grins at the empty restaurant. "It might be nice to get away from this beast for a little while."
"For sure! Uh..." I cringe, realizing that I've forgotten a major issue. "Well, the thing is, you can only visit us on Halloween."
"What? That's weird." His brows furrow. "Why is that?"
I have to laugh. "It's a long story. Maybe I'll tell it someday."
***
It's probably my imagination, but the very air seems to change the moment that I cross the border into Massachusetts. What started nearly two months ago as an anxiety-ridden drive through dying forests feels like a pilgrimage towards my destiny. Towards everything I've ever wanted.
Only when I enter the city limits of Neverton and pull up the rocky drive to Death's mansion does it dawn on me that I may face some opposition. I'll certainly have a lot of explaining to do, especially to Love. And Mem; I hate how I left things with her.
But those thoughts flee my mind the moment that I cut off my scooter's sturdy engine and watch the front door of the house fly open. A familiar, high-pitched voice calls across the lawn, and I feel as though someone is inflating my heart like a balloon. "CARA!! YOU'RE HERE! DEATH, CARA'S BACK!"
I wave to Lisa – and then Love steps forward behind the little girl, arms folded over her chest. My joy dissipates like a thin fog as quickly as it'd appeared, even when I see Death poke his head through the door, too. From here, I can't read any of their expressions.
All I can do is keep my head high as I pick my way across the lawn and, quite ungracefully, tug my luggage behind me. The third wheel keeps getting caught in the gravel, and by the time I lug it up the steps and reach the front porch I'm sure that I'm red, sweaty, and breathless. In other words, a real treat to be greeted by unexpectedly.
"I knew you'd be back! Where did you go?" Lisa asks, among a million other questions. Death snaps himself out of his dumbfounded stupor long enough to send her to the kitchen for a glass of water. She leaves begrudgingly, and I face Death in the doorway. He's just as impossibly beautiful as I remembered, if a little unshaven, and regards me with tightly-leashed hope. He's wearing an I Heart NYC t-shirt. I have the ridiculous thought that he'd put it on because of me, and then my balloon-heart inflates again so that it's close to popping.
"I thought you'd decided to leave," Love says, jarring me. I'd nearly blocked out her presence entirely. Murderous flames dance in her eyes, and I'm quite certain that she'd like to incinerate me on the spot. "That was the agreement, in no uncertain terms."
But I don't have anything to say to her. I look over her head and address only Death.
"When I first saw your face on a bus ad for a bougie beach resort, I never in a million years would have guessed that I would meet you here or come to love the person underneath. You are so much more than the role you play, Death, no matter what anyone tells you. You are kind, and patient, and merciful, and good at making breakfast, and really bad at understanding pop culture references. Most importantly, you don't deserve to be alone." As terrifying as it is to say these words, I find myself smiling the entire time, Love be damned. Even Death can't keep the shine from his eyes. Deep inside of me, in the place that I can only describe as my soul, I feel a million broken pieces snap together.
"You are my unfinished business, Death. I love you, so truly and deeply that it transcends any rules to the contrary. You, and this home, and your mission is a part of me. Your residents have changed me in a way that I didn't think possible. They made me want to be better. They made me want to live again. Not only do I want to be with you, but I want to be your partner in helping your residents move on, if you'll have me."
When I finish speaking, I find that I'm gasping for breath, locked in an intense moment with Death. But before he can say anything, Love rolls her eyes and says, "Stupid, stupid human. Do you not remember what I told you? You have doomed both yourself and the one you claim to love with your selfish actions!"
"No," I spit, my voice sharp as a knife. Even Death seems surprised by my audacity in the face of someone who could destroy me in an instant. "That's where you're mistaken. The rule was that Death couldn't fall in love with a human."
"Wait, what? What are these rules you're talking about?" Death finally breaks his silence, and I gather from his shocked, furious expression that Love hadn't spoken a word to him about her true reason for visiting his home in the first place. Interesting. He whirls on her, terrifying in his anger. I can almost imagine the scaled beast rearing back beneath his human facade. "That's why you were trying to keep me away from Cara? Because you made up some rule that says I can't fall in love?"
"Slow down," Love snaps, glaring at both of us in turn. She only seems mildly peeved that we've unearthed her scheming. She responds to me first, trying and failing to smooth out her frustration. "That was the rule, as we discussed: Death cannot fall in love with a human. I can show you myself; it's written in black and white. I take no personal pleasure in enforcing it. It is simply for the good of the universe."
"That may be true, but I'm not a human," I say. The hairs stand up on my arms after I make the confession, and I can nearly hear my mother's wry voice in my ear: Brilliant girl. Death and Love stare at me, dumbfounded.
"Cara?" Death takes a small step forward. "What are you talking about? What do you mean you're not human?"
"It took me forever to realize it, but ever since I stepped foot in Neverton I was an anomaly. You told me so yourself: humans aren't supposed to see you, or your residents, or any of the other strange things in this town. Which must mean that I'm not human. I'm...something else."
"But clearly, you're alive. You exist in space in a human form. So what are you?" Love demands, nearly tripping over her words. Clearly, I've said something that makes her feel threatened, and it gives me the strength to keep talking. Has anyone challenged her this way before? Has she ever been surprised by her own creation? If she's as powerful as everyone claims, then I highly doubt it.
"I don't know. Maybe it doesn't have a label," I tell her, swallowing. "But I do know that just before I'd come to Neverton, I'd completely given up on life. I gave up on myself, on the future. I was as good as dead. So maybe that's why I'm here: to serve as a bridge between life and death." I want to tell Death about my visit to the clinic, my pending diagnosis, but I don't want to do it with Love here. She doesn't deserve to know that part of me, even though she probably already does.
"Well, I must say...I've never encountered anything like this before. A being that exists between realms." Love looks troubled for the first time ever, and right now it would be almost too easy to confuse her for a mortal. "Tell me, then, what you propose we do about this."
"Let me stay here," I whisper, and I wish I didn't feel so desperate. But Love, quite literally, holds my future in her hands. I echo Sarah's words. "Let me become part of the balance. Let me serve you and Death by helping the souls that are seeking their unfinished business. Let me play a part for the good of the universe. I know now that it is my purpose."
"Cara, think about what you're asking," Death interrupts. His eyes shine with unshed tears. "We can only truly be together one night a year. And as you've seen, helping lost souls can be difficult work. You deserve a life."
"And now I have one. The one I actually want, instead of the one I should." I turn to Love and raise my eyebrows. "Will you let us be together? We're not breaking your rules."
"A mere technicality." Love closes her eyes and for an agonizing minute rubs her temples as if warding away a headache. Then, she opens them and shakes her head. "This will set a precedent that I sincerely hope I don't come to regret."
But she doesn't blast me into a million smithereens or set the entire mansion ablaze. This is Love's way of agreeing. Before I can stop myself, I shove through the doorway and press my lips to Death's freezing cold, nonexistent ones. He grins and raises his hands so that they rest against the surface of my back like a whisper, and I laugh through the chill. I'm not sure I've ever known such joy in my life.
"You're a miracle, Cara." Death shakes his head, and an invisible tear slips down his cheek. I didn't know ghosts could cry. "And I'm sorry I ever let you walk out of this door without knowing that I love you more than anything. More than duty. More than eternity. I'm not sure how I did this without you for so long."
"Don't sell yourself short." I can barely respond through my tears. "I was a lost soul before I met you, right?"
"I don't think you were the one who was lost." Death chuckles low in his chest and tightens his incorporeal arms around me, strengthening the whisper of sensation to a pulsing wave.
It's the most comforting cold that I've ever felt.
"Well, what do we do now?" He asks, gazing into the foyer of the empty mansion, now uninhabited save for a little girl who desperately needs us. But I know that it won't stay this quiet forever: spirits will come, and spirits will go, and we will both be here to help them feel less alone. Come what may, we will face my sickness head-on and fight it for however long we can. Together. The way it was meant to be.
I look Death straight in the eyes and grin. "We live."