Jennie —3 Years, 30 Weeks, 0 Days

..

..

Lisa tries to convince me she'll do everything she can to block Nameless from contacting me again via email. But I know it won't work. Lisa's okay at the whole computer tracking thing, but Nameless is much, much better. He always has been. He used to spend entire weekends working away at strands of hugely difficult codes. Sometimes he'd shrug off our dates at his house to practice. He was good because he practiced, and all that practice ended in him becoming talented. The computer science teacher at our school wouldn't shut up about him.

If Nameless can get access to a video in a federal vault, then he can get to me. If he knows about the video, he knows about Lisa, probably through Chan. Not that Chan would ever tell him purposely. Maybe he let it slip. Or maybe Nameless just tracked me all the way here and somehow found out about Lisa through the school's computers. People talked about our war on the beat-up old Macs in the computer lab, I'm sure. Or maybe—

My stomach sinks, and the wonderful crème brûlée taste goes sour in my mouth.

Maybe Nameless had my email hacked all along, and he read my emails to Jisoo about Lisa.

"Wipe your old hard drive, just in case," Lisa says. "Get a new email address and change the passwords on everything."

"He'll just break in again."

"He won't," Lisa says sternly. "He won't. I won't let that happen."

"He's been watching me this whole time." I laugh. "I was so stupid. I thought I got away from him for good."

"You will. You can. You just can't give up. Work with me, okay? We'll fix this together."

"It's no good." I roll over. "He's gonna torment me for my entire life. He's always gonna be here, just like this stupid—this stupid fucking scar—"

I wrap it in the sheet so I don't have to look at it. Lisa walks over and unwraps it, pulling it to her lips.

"Listen to me, Jennie. He won't be with you forever. Someday, you'll force him to leave, and he will, and you'll be happier for it. The memories won't go away, but they'll become less clear as you make more."

I flinch. Her eyes don't leave mine.

"I want to help you make more, if that's all right with you."

"What about…Tzuyu?"

"She'll always be a part of my life, and I'll always support her. But I know now who I want. The truth is here, right now, staring me in the face and sitting on a hotel bed, wearing my shirt and looking ridiculously cute."

My face heats like a brushfire. Lisa stands.

"Let's get some sleep. We can worry uselessly tomorrow. Have you told your mom where you are?"

"Shit," I hiss. "I gotta call her. It might be one of those nights."

"Those nights?"

"She relapses sometimes. The memories come back to haunt her and she freaks out and can't sleep unless I'm there."

"Jesus, Jennie, how long has this been going on?"

"Ever since we moved here to get away from Liam," I say. "It's not a big deal."

"It's a huge deal," She insists. "Your mom can't sleep without you sometimes? That's a huge burden on you."

"It's not!" I protest. "Look, I just do what I can to help her, okay? She's my mom. I love her. She needs me."

"You need yourself. You can't be there for her forever."

Her words ring true, reminiscent of what Aunt Beth said to me. But then I remember Mom's tears at the trial.

"I can try," I snipe.

"Jennie, this isn't healthy. She needs to get help—"

"She's getting help. But it's not enough."

Lisa closes her mouth, a frown forming on her lips. In the sudden quiet, I dial Mom. She sounds good. She ordered Chinese takeout for us, but when I tell her I'm spending the night at a friend's, the forced happy in her voice throws me off.

"Oh! That's great. Which friend?"

"Jisoo," I lie. "I can give you her phone number."

"Sure, that'd be great. Should I call her parents and say hello?"

"Her parents are… out of town."

Mom clucks her tongue. "Are you two drinking?"

"It's just one bottle of wine," I agree. "I'm sorry—"

"No, no, honey." Mom laughs. "It's okay. You don't have to lie to make me feel better. You deserve to relax. God knows you deserve to have fun with your friends after everything I've put you through. Just promise me you won't drive anywhere or get in a car driven by someone drunk, and that you'll be home by noon tomorrow."

"I promise." My heart lifts. "I swear to you, I'll be safe."

"I know you will, sweetie. You're the best daughter a mom could ask for."

"You, too. Not that you're a daughter. Even though you are. I'm sure Grandma thought you were the best daughter ever, bless her wrinkly, dementia-addled soul."

Mom chuckles. "Sleep well, you."

We hang up. Lisa is watching me with an appraising gaze.

"What?" I ask defensively. "Why are you looking at me like that?"

"What are you going to do for college?" She asks. "Don't tell me you plan to stay here."

"You were planning to stay here for Tzuyu," I retort. "But all of a sudden you're going to Harvard?"

"Tzuyu asked me to go," she says tiredly. "I'm coming back to visit her every month. Besides, a Harvard degree will get me a much better job—one with enough money to cover her costs for a long time."

"You talk about my relationship with my mom not being healthy, but you and Tzuyu are no different."

Her handsome face twists, but after a moment it lightens.

"I despise your logic," she says. "But sometimes it's right. I'm a hypocrite."

"And a fathead," I say. "But I forgive you."

Her exhale is laced with a laugh. "Let's get some rest."

She turns out the light and takes a spare blanket from the closet, draping it over the couch and lying on it. I snuggle under the blankets and try not to feel guilty. I can't fall asleep at all. It's a repeat of what happened at Rosé's house, but this time, I'm not drunk, and I'm not as scared. It's just the darkness gnawing away at me. Nameless feels like he's everywhere. And I'd give anything, do anything, to chase him away and feel safe again.

"It's cold," I say. I hear Lisa roll over.

"Do you want another blanket?"

"No, um." I swallow. This is the hardest thing I've ever done, second only to my first-grade spelling bee in which I spelled "fabulous" wrong, and third to when I had my first period ever and bled through my pants and onto the metal foldout chair during band class and had to attach the chair to my bottom as I walked sideways to the bathroom so no one would see the damage. I gained a whole new respect for crabs and their walking style. Shit's straight difficult.

"Can you—" I try to raise my voice, but it cracks. "Can you—please— I'm usually not this bad at talking." I laugh. "This is so stupid. I'm sorry. Never mind."

I roll over and pull the blankets over my head so she won't hear me whispering curses at myself. But then I feel a weight on the other side of the bed, and my lungs rapidly decide they want to burst.

Lisa's voice is close. "This?"

I pull the blankets off my head and nod, too furiously. Too eagerly. Lisa chuckles, low and soft. With my eyes adjusted to the dimness, I see her roll and face away from me, pulling the blanket over her. Her legs are just a few feet to the left, her back even closer. I'm shaking, but I pray to whatever god is listening that she can't feel that through the bed. I don't want her to get the wrong idea—that I'm afraid—and then leave. I am afraid—a deep-down, rock-solid fear burned into me by Nameless—but I'm not scared. I'm not shallowly breathing or panicky or jumping at every little thing. And that makes all the difference. It's not chaotic fear; it's orderly, and I know the causes for it. I can control it.

I reach out, slowly, and put my hand on her back. I feel her muscles tense under my fingers. When she doesn't say anything, or move, I lean in and press my weight against her. She's warm, warmer than a blanket. There's a long pause as our breathing moves in and out of each other's rhythm. And then finally, she speaks.

"You're the most confusing girl I've ever met."

"Yeah." I smile. "Not sorry."

"Good."

..

The sun barges in and sits its butt on my eyes and the world is ending and I'm blind and everything is over. And then I roll over and see Lisa's face on the pillow and then everything is really over. Permanently. Because my universe explodes.

I make small screeching noises under my breath as I try to remember how I got here, in the hotel room. It all floods back at once and I'm more than a little mad at myself for giving in and staying here without a fight. Lisa cracks open one sleepy blue eye. She runs her fingers through my hair idly as she groans.

"Who gave you permission to be conscious before six, and how can I end them?"

"Why are you touching me?" I whisper. "Is it really that fun? Because most people say it feels squishy and gross."

She laughs and puts her hands over her eyes, stretching like a freshly woken cat who likes to arch its back.

"What do you want for breakfast? I can run out and get something, or we can call in. Checkout isn't until one."

"There was a café I saw on my way in last night. Looked really swanky and smelled permanently like bacon. You should go there. While I sneak out the window."

"I think we should go together."

"Hear me out on this one: What if we don't stay near each other for extended periods of time?"

She rolls over and leans on her elbows, playing with a strand of my purple hair.

"That's an incredibly contradictory statement considering what you did last night."

"I touched your back! Stop making it sound sexual!" I gasp. "Did I just say sexual? Out loud? Without stuttering? Praise Jesus. Wait, does Jesus like people having sex? I keep forgetting who likes what."

"I like you," Lisa murmurs. I elegantly fall off the bed. There's a silence, and then I peek my head over the mattress and raise my hand.

"Uh, hello? Me here. I would preferably not like to be given a heart attack before I reach legal drinking age."

"Did that really surprise you that badly?" Lisa smirks. She pauses. "I like you."

"Ah!" I put my arms up to shield myself.

"I like you."

"Stop!"

"Oh, this will be fun."

"I will kill you slowly," I retort, but she's already up and pulling on her pants. I set my entire facial region on fire involuntarily when I realize she slept in boxers. Next to me. And in the split second before she pulled her pants on there was a distinct bulge, and I am dying, this is what dying is, you burn up and then the ashes blow away and someone gets them in their eye and they walk around with a red eye all day and their coworkers think it's pinkeye when really it's just your dead carbon—

"Jennie. Shhh."

"You shhhh!" I hiss. "I'm having a seventeenth-life crisis here upon seeing a your junk for the first time."

She pulls on her jacket and grabs her wallet off the nightstand.

"I'll wait for you downstairs."

She shuts the door, and I'm alone. Alone but with her waiting for me downstairs. In a fancy hotel. For breakfast at a café. I pinch my feet and yelp when I don't wake up. There aren't any hidden cameras I can see, but then again if I could see them they wouldn't be very good hidden cameras now would they? I don't think this is a setup, at least. It's an impossible little dream probably, cooked up by my waking subconscious, but for now I'll let it slide. For now I'll go along with it. I slept in the same bed as Lisa Manoban, my nemesis, my rival, and now apparently something a little more than my friend.

And I felt safe.

..

Over breakfast at the café, Lisa and I talk logistics. She'll keep an eye on Nameless's IP, and I'll do a thorough cleansing of my computer. When we're standing in the parking lot with bellies full of bacon and toast, we linger. I shuffle my feet. I have no idea what to do. How is I am supposed to say good-bye to Lisa who she slept with but didn't really sleep with? Is there a handbook for this shit? Should I write one real quick and mail it to my past self? Does publishing even work that fast?

Before I can agonize any longer, Lisa reaches her hand out and pats my head.

"You'll be okay driving home?"

"Duh." I feel miffed that she'd pat me like a child, but also weird and glowy on the inside in places I don't even wanna think about. "I'm like a NASCAR driver. Minus the millions of dollars."

"Shame, really. Imagine how many more people you could annoy if you were a millionaire."

"At least ten whole people. And their grandmas."

"Ah yes, the time-honored Kim tradition of annoying grandmas."

"All it takes is like, a dirty pan and a cat without a furry pink sweater on it."

"Say hi to your mother for me."

"You, too. Um. If she still remembers me. Actually, don't, it's fine, I didn't exactly make the best impression when I went over there—"

"She remembers," Lisa insists. "She thinks you're sweet."

"Hah. Must've met my doppelgänger. The one who doesn't exist anywhere ever."

Lisa smiles. It's not a bright smile, like the one I'd seen her give Tzuyu in the hospital once. But it's warm and without ice, and that's all I can ask for, really.

"You have my number," she says.

"Yup. I'll text if there're issues. Tissues. Not tissues, tissues are disgusting and so are issues."

She starts to walk away. I want to say a thousand dumb things at once—thank you, and I'm sorry you chose a shithead like me, and you deserve better, and drive safe, and be safe, and sleep well and eat well, but all the words and feelings come up in a jumbled mess and dissipate into the air as I open my mouth to say nothing at all and close it again.

..

..

"YOU WHAT?"

I hold the phone away from my ear to preserve my future hearing for eighty years to come.

"Slept. In the uh, same bed," I whisper.

"YOU HAD SEX WITH LISA MANOBAN?"

"Jesus, Jisoo, no, stop shouting, it's indecent."

"I'LL TELL YOU WHAT'S INDECENT—SLEEPING WITH LISA MANOBAN!"

"We didn't sleep together, dork! Do I look stupid enough to ever touch that bag of germs?"

Jisoo finally takes a breath. "That's true. You can't even say 'dick' without vomiting in your mouth a little. And sometimes on desks. And small children."

"That was one time, and that kid totally walked into the flight path of my vomit. It's not my fault if he had no grasp of liquid physics."

"But you totally slept in the same bed and, like, hello, isn't that at least second base? Second and a half base?"

"Uh, like a second moon base?"

"Ugh, no! Never mind, I'm not gonna explain really outdated sex terms to you."

"For the last time! There was no sect…ional things going on, okay? I would never do that with your ex. Ever."

"I would. With your ex. If you had one. If he was smoking hot. If you gave me your sure-as-hell approval, obviously. Which I totally give you, by the way, because, duh—it's Lisa Manoban! Someone in this school has to bed her before she gets to Hollywood or model-land or whatever and contracts a bunch of icky diseases!"

"You are insane."

"Omigod! Did I tell you?"

"That you're insane? Already figured it out, thanks."

"No, dummy! Chan asked me to prom!"

I feel my mouth drop open. "The one with glasses?"

"Uh, duh, what other Chan do you know?"

"Was he…was he drooling or shuffling or moaning about brains?"

"Ew, no! He was in his right mind and I'm like, ninety-nine percent sure he wasn't a zombie, okay? Is it so weird that someone would want to take me to prom?"

"No, it's just— Chan isn't exactly bold?"

"I know!" she squeals. "Which is like, the biggest compliment, if he got all gung ho to ask me and stuff, right?"

"Yeah. Are you gonna say yes?"

"I already did!"

"What happened to him being a nerd king?"

"He's a slightly…cooler nerd king now? I mean, I just— We've had woodshop together and it's been really fun, we made this birdhouse and it came out really cute, and I cut my finger on the band saw a little, and he got really concerned and took me to the nurse's and—"

"You like him."

Jisoo chokes on nothing. "I-I do not! Like him! I just happen to want to go to senior prom! And he's cute enough! And he's nice!"

"He doesn't drive."

"That's fine! I do! And anyway I'm totally gonna ask Daddy for a limo, and you and Lisa are definitely invited."

"Uh, thanks? But me and Lisa aren't a thing."

"You slept in the same bed."

"Yes?"

"You're a thing," she asserts. "I'll see you on Monday!"

I sigh and hang up. Having friends is great. Having friends determine your romantic status is not so great. Yeah, Lisa and I slept in the same bed. And she touched my hair. And smiled a lot. And she was warm, and—

I run into the bathroom and grace my head with a cold shower. Mom's surprised to see my wet hair when I drive up to her shrink's.

..

"Did…did something happen?"

"Jesus blessed me with his holy water."

"Oh?"

"Took a shower. How was your session?"

She laughs. "It was…it was all right. We talked about you, mostly, and Stanford."

"Oh yeah?" My voice pitches up. "Cool."

"It would be so wonderful for you, honey. And with your dad willing to help with the costs—you could really do it. You'd meet so many new people and learn so many amazing things."

"Yeah. And they've got these awesome foreign exchange programs." I pull onto the highway. "I've been looking at this one in Belgium; it's like, four months, so one semester, but you live with a host family right in the city and there's all this cultural exchange stuff in your program, like going out to the countryside and visiting France for a week, and it sounds so—"

I stop when I see Mom raise her hand to her face out of the corner of my eye.

"Mom? Are you okay?"

"I'm sorry." She sniffs, laughing. "I'm fine. Really, I'm okay."

"Are you crying?"

"I'm fine, sweetie! I-I'm—"

Her crying gets louder. She's shaking, her shoulders quivering and her hands quaking as she desperately tries to hide her face from me.

"Mom!" I pull over onto the shoulder and put the car in park, lacing my arm around her. "Mom, are you okay? What's wrong? Tell me, please."

"N-No," she whimpers. "I'm being selfish. I'm sorry. Please, just drive us home."

"No! Not until you tell me what's making you cry like this!"

She sobs into my shoulder, every echo of her pain tearing a hole in my heart. I shouldn't have gotten so excited about Stanford. It probably hurts her just to hear me talk about going away so far.

"I don't want you to go," she cries. "Please, stay here. I need you here."

I wince and shut my eyes. I pull her closer to me, her trench coat enveloping both of us.

"Hey, it's okay," I say softly. "Mom, it's okay. Don't worry. I'm not going anywhere. I promise."

"No! I want you to go." She looks up, eyes panicked and red. "But I don't want you to go. I know you have to. You have to grow and learn and fly on your own. But I don't know what I'll do without you. I'm sorry. Please, go. Please do whatever you want. Just…just promise me you'll come back and visit sometimes, all right?"

"Mom, I'm not going—"

"You are!" Her expression suddenly turns furious. "You are, don't listen to me! Don't hold yourself back for me. I want you to go to Stanford."

"But I don't want to."

"Yes you do, Jennie. I know you do. And you're giving it up for me, and I can't have that. You need people as smart as you, sweetie. You need challenges, and you'll get that at Stanford. God, my little girl, going to Stanford. I'm so proud. So, so proud."

She composes herself, and I start driving again, and she smiles and talks about mundane stuff like grocery shopping and what the neighbors said about her yard and how work was, but I know she isn't done with the sorrow, because when we get home, she locks herself in her room and turns on her music. And she only does that when she doesn't want me to hear her crying.

My chest burns as I look over the Stanford brochures again. They're a wonderful, impossible dream.

I can't leave her. There's no way I can leave Mom here with a good conscience. I'd be too far to help if anything happened again—and she'd be too lonely. She wouldn't get better if I was gone; she'd only get worse. I have to be close. Very close. I have to stay with her until she's strong enough to stand on her own two feet again, and going to Stanford won't make that happen.

My path is clear.

My path has always been clear.

I put the brochures in my desk drawer and cover them with my old sketchbooks from elementary school. Things I don't touch. Things I won't touch, ever again.

My email beeps, shakes me out of my misery, and then piles more on. The email's from the same address that sent me the picture. Nameless.

Hi, Jennie!

How've you been? You got my pic, right? That Lisa girl seems really cool. I heard she's not like most girls. Have you guys fucked yet?

Aw, who am I kidding? You don't gotta tell me. I'll see you again someday.

I fight the urge to puke and lose, fantastically.

The darkness wells up in the bathroom. It bleeds out of my eyes and my mouth that cries with no sound. I lock the door and huddle on the floor, hugging my knees.

He'll see me soon.

I'm not safe. I've never been safe.

I'll never be safe. I'll never be free. Lisa's wrong. She can't do anything. She can't help. Nameless lives inside me and always will. The darkness will always be here.

There is a nest inside me, and all it takes is a few words from the boy who raped me to bring the monsters roaring out of it.

..

..

Lisa

..

..

Naomi isn't pleased with the fact that I'm leaving town. She's never been pleased when I leave, ever, because Tzuyu gets sad, and that probably makes her job harder. She escorts me to Tzuyu's room grumpily.

"Something the matter, Naomi?" I inquire.

Naomi grunts eloquently. "Don't try to schmooze me, Lisa."

"I'm just wondering why your face is more lovely than usual. New eye cream?"

"Are you really going to Harvard?" she snaps. "Do you know how far away that is?"

"In another state, I believe."

"What about Tzuyu, hmm? What is she going to do when you're gone?"

Naomi's words dig a needle straight through my heart. She seems to see that, and sighs and rubs her forehead.

"I'm sorry. I— She's been here so long, I care about her so much, and with the surgery coming up I'm just so worried. Dr. Fenwall says her likelihood of pulling through—"

"She'll be fine," I say. "She's tough, even though she doesn't look it. She'll live. She'll be able to live her own life when it's over."

Naomi nods. She pushes open the door to Tzuyu's room and gasps. It's empty. I walk over to the windowsill, where every single one of the vases I'd bought her are smashed. The floor's littered with pottery, sharp and gleaming and just begging for someone to step in it and shed blood.

"Where is she?" Naomi moans. "I told her you were coming and to stay in her room so I could bring you here. Oh no, oh, no no no—"

"We'll split up. Check her usual spots," I say. "I'll take the top floors, you check the bottom. And ask Dr. Fenwall if he's seen her."

Naomi nods, and we run out the door. I take the steps two at a time and weave around wheelchairs and interns. She's not in the cafeteria, and the servers say they haven't seen her all day. The recreation room is nearly empty, and when I ask a kindly old woman if she's seen her, she shakes her head. Nurses who work with Naomi say they haven't seen her, either. The bathrooms are fruitless. Finally, I get to the kids' ward, where Mira and James are playing video games. They look up, and Mira smiles.

"Hey, Lisa! Tzuyu was just here."

"Where did she go?"

"Upstairs. To the roof, I think. Even though we're not supposed to be up there."

Four flights of stairs leave me breathless and sick to my stomach. Why the roof? She only goes there when she's irrevocably sad or depressed. And with all the smashed vases? She loves those vases. She'd never—

I climb faster and burst through the emergency door and into the weak sunlight.

Tzuyu's standing at the edge. Not on it, like I'd found her so many times, like I was afraid she'd be. She peers over it, watching the world spread out below. Her hands are clasped behind her back, her silvery hair ruffling in the strong wind.

She looks over her shoulder and smiles at me.

"Hey."

"Tzuyu—" I run toward her, turning her to face me and inspecting her for wounds. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine. Just wanted some air. You don't look so good, though."

I exhale all the worry out. "I was— I came to visit, and your room, all the vases were broken. Did you do that?"

She nods. "On accident. I was dancing to music and got a little crazy. I didn't want to deal with it, so I just left it there for the janitor to clean and came up here. Mean of me, I know."

"No, no, it's fine— You just worried Naomi and me."

She cocks her head and hugs me. "Oh, I'm sorry! I didn't mean to, really."

I put my arms around her and inhale the smell of her hair, making sure she's still here. She's real. She has a scent and a feel and she's realer than anything in my life. She always has been.

Half of me wants to tell her about Jennie, about Gregory Callan looking for Tallie. The other half knows she'd take it badly either way, and with such an important surgery coming up, her mental stability has to be rock solid. I'll tell her after, when she's healthy and whole again. If I worry her now, the stress could tip her over an edge she can't come back from.

"I love you," I say.

She giggles and pets my hair. "I know. I love you, too. Thank you for being so strong for me all this time. Thank you for trying so hard, for so long. It'll all be over soon."

"You'll be able to do whatever you want. Go wherever you want. You'll be free."

She laughs and hugs me tighter.

"I already am."

..

..

Jennie

Today is easier.

It's not any brighter—the darkness still lingers on the edges of my vision, but I punch it in the gut and drive to the hospital anyway. I pause in the doorway of the ER.

The first time I came in here, I was a different person. Also, unconscious and bleeding. But also extremely different. Louder. And more obnoxious. And less evil. It's clearly not a fair trade. But no trades are ever really fair. Life gives and takes constantly and deeply. I've learned that much.

"Jennie!"

I look over to see Dr. Mernich coming toward me, her flyaway hair even frizzier today.

"M-dawg! What's going down in crazy town?"

She laughs. "Nothing much, really. All the interesting pranks conducted around here suddenly and mysteriously stopped once you left."

"Ah, well. What can I say? Poltergeists are fickle. Also, supernatural and imaginary. But mostly fickle."

"Are you here to visit Tzuyu?"

"Yeah."

"You look much better," she says, looking me up and down. "You sound better."

"Do I? Because I feel like shit now more than ever."

"But now you're feeling it. Not running away from it. That's a good start. Little steps, remember?"

I nod. "Yeah. I think I'm getting there. I mean, a fancy mind-wipe machine like in Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind would be helpful and extremely welcome, but hey, you scientist guys are slow and always out of funds. I forgive you."

Mernich smiles, but it fades quickly. "Jennie? Just between you and me—how is Tzuyu doing, you think?"

"I dunno. One minute she likes me, the next she hates me, the next she's crying on me. But she seems like she's stronger, somehow. She's focused on the things that really matter to her. And sometimes she tries to be nice."

"Except when she doesn't," Mernich offers.

"Yeah. That."

Mernich turns my words over and then finally claps me on the shoulder.

"Well, thank you for coming to visit her so often. She really does like you, you know. Deep down. She sees you as a friend and wants you to be happy like she can't always be."

"Really?"

"She has a very hard time showing it." Mernich sighs. "Being terminally ill is the most stressful state a human brain can be in. Your emotions run wild constantly, and it doesn't help that the tumors are also altering her personality."

"Yeah. But that's understandable. None of us can be happy all the time," I say.

"Yes. But you certainly try more than anyone else, don't you?"

Her words hit hard. She smiles one last time, then turns and walks down the hall, calling out to another doctor.

I peek into the kids' ward, but Mira and James are out to lunch in the cafeteria. Tzuyu's door is open, and I walk in to see her and Lisa, hugging. I back up immediately, but Tzuyu hears me first and pulls away.

"Jennie! Hey!" She runs over and hugs me. It's a sudden 180 from her behavior the other day, but I'm so happy she's being nice to me again I let it slide. I look at Lisa over her shoulder. She's expressionless, the slightest frown on her face.

"Hi, sorry, wow. I just barged in here without even knocking first," I say.

"It's okay! I'm just glad you're here. You, and Lisa, and me, all together for once. It's great. Isn't it?" she asks, turning to Lisa. Lisa nods, stiffly, and then locks eyes with me. It's quick, but it lingers, and reminds me of everything that happened that night in the hotel—how kind she was, how warm. I feel my face burning up and Tzuyu staring at me.

"I should go," Lisa says suddenly.

"What? Why? Work again?" Tzuyu tilts her head.

"No. I just don't want to get in the way of you both talk."

"Periods," I say to Tzuyu immediately. "Huge, bloody periods."

"Tampons!" she shouts.

Lisa pushes past us and out the door. "I'm going to get something to eat. I'll be back."

When she's gone, Tzuyu turns to me.

"So? What's up?"

I'm confused by her sudden cheeriness. For a split second, it was like we were back to how we used to be, before I regained my memory. People say knowledge is power, but in my case, it's a curse. A curse to lose a friend I'd made during a really hard time. Maybe she's not in pain today, I muse. Maybe she's feeling better. Maybe she's getting better! The surge of hope is instant and half blind, a tiny voice whispering she'll never get better, no matter how much she deserves to, no matter how unfair life is.

I rummage in my pocket and hold out the silver bracelet with tallulah on it. It jingles faintly in the air, the sudden silence between us deafening. Her blue eyes widen, and she reaches out reverently and takes it. She strokes the name engraved on it with her thumb.

"Tallie," she whispers.

"I couldn't bring back…um. The rest of her. I mean, that's her grave, so that's where she should stay, you know? That's where she rests. But I thought you'd like the bracelet."

Tzuyu's quiet for a long time. She traces the bracelet chain over and over. Just as I start to feel awkward for staying, she raises her voice.

"Lisa got it for me. After it happened. It's nice to have it back."

I try to smile, but it comes out crooked.

"Lisa didn't know," she says. "I never told her about Tallie. But that night in the woods spilled the secret in front of everyone. That night—"

Her fist clenches the bracelet, a darkness creeping into her eyes that wasn't there before.

"Lisa was the only good thing in my life," she continues. "I would've done anything to keep her with me. You understand. You wanted Nameless to stay, too, right?"

I nod slowly. I told her about him, in the softest, most vulnerable moments of my recuperation. Not everything. But enough. Enough to have her link us together in the same way—her and Lisa, me and Nameless.

"This bracelet's been with Tallie for years now," she continues. "In the ground with her. I couldn't see her or visit her. And it tore me up every day. But now it's with me."

"Now she's with you," I offer. Tzuyu looks up, eyes wet, and flings her arms around my neck.

"Thank you. Thank you so much. I'm sorry for everything I've said. Everything I've done. Let me make it up to you, okay? I really wanna make it up to you."

"You don't have to, actually, I know things have been really hard? And like, your life is hard? So I don't want to make it extra hard?"

"You won't be! Rosé's planning the entire party, so I won't be doing anything stressful. All you have to do is wear something 'rad,' or whatever, and come!"

"Uh, historically I haven't had the greatest experience at Rosé's parties."

"Neither have I," she reminds me. "But it's my birthday party, and she's promised to behave herself. And I'll be there, so I'll keep an eye on her. I'd just like it if you came. Chan's coming, and so is Lisa. And a bunch of other people I was supposed to go to school with, so like, most of your class."

"Big party?"

"Huge! And there's a cake, and a DJ, and please, please come!"

Her face is shining in the same way it used to shine when I'd make her laugh, back at the beginning. Back when I first came here.

"Yeah. Yeah, all right. I'll come."

Tzuyu smiles, relief carving her features.

"Great. It's on the twenty-eighth, up at her house. It's supposed to start at seven, but you should arrive fashionably late, because the booze is also arriving fashionably late."

"You know me too well."

Tzuyu shakes her head and laughs.

"I thought I did. But, no. No, Jennie. I don't know you at all. You're the only one. You're the only one who brought me what I wanted. Not flowers. Not food. Not medicine or pity. You brought me my baby, after everything I did to you and said to you."

She hugs me again.

"You don't pretend to be a good person like everyone else. You are one."

"But I'm the dragon. I'm evil. Lisa and I—"

Tzuyu pulls away and smiles faintly.

"You and Lisa are my greatest friends. My only friends. Thank you for sticking around this sick little idiot."

There's a moment of quiet, in which all we can hear is the shuffling of nurses and patients outside and the faint beeping of distant monitors.

"I like Lisa," I blurt. The words hang there, pushed out by my guilt. Tzuyu doesn't miss a beat.

"I like her, too."

"I think…I think I want to be with her."

"I want to be with her, too." Her smile widens. "But I can't be. Not for much longer, anyway."

"But the surgery will—"

"I don't know what the surgery will do. No one does. The future is funny like that. No matter how much we plan and scheme, the tiniest hole in the ship can sink us. So I've learned to stop planning. To just…let things happen."

My mouth won't say words, tightening into a thin line instead. All of my feelings for Lisa, for her, war with each other. Imaginary blood spills. Someone probably loses an arm or five.

"Whatever happens," Tzuyu continues, "I want her to be happy. I think that's what Dr. Mernich means by coming to terms with my own death. It's not about accepting death. It's about accepting the lives you're leaving behind. Accepting their feelings, their wants and needs. At first I hated the idea of that—I wanted everyone to suffer like I was suffering. Rosé, Chan. Even Lisa. Even you. But now I realize…"

She looks down at the bracelet and smiles.

"Now I realize the only thing I can do is make it easy on all of you."

"Tzuyu—"

"Let's go upstairs." Tzuyu grabs my hand suddenly. "To the roof. One last time."

..

The wind is gentle today. There are no pigeons, but a few crows perch on the radio antennae above the door. The winter light is pale and washes the world out—all gray roads and white buildings. Tzuyu sits on the edge of the roof, and I sit with her. We watch the people go in and out of the hospital, bustling about their daily lives. She points to two kids playing on the rusted swing in the recreation area.

"James and Mira look good. Well, better than when they first came."

James takes a flying leap off one of the swings and Mira chastises him loudly. Tzuyu laughs.

"James might get out, someday. If he fights it off. But Mira is pretty much like me. When they first came, I was jealous of them. They have parents who visit, parents who love them. I was alone."

She leans back, stretching her thin arms out.

"I got close to them to try to siphon some of the parental love. It worked, for a while. But then the jealousy got to be too much, and I snapped at them one day. And they haven't looked at me without being afraid since."

"It wasn't your fault—"

"It was my fault," she says dully. "Mernich helped me see that. I was manipulating my surroundings because I didn't have any control over my life."

"Why all the past tense?"

She shoots me a crooked grin. "I'm just talking about past therapy sessions. Don't get all worried-mom on me."

I hold my hands up. "All right, officer. You got me."

"To jail you go," she orders. "Solitary confinement. No comic books."

"Alas! How will I discover who Captain America sleeps with next?"

"The internet will scream about it, I'm sure."

For a while neither of us says anything. The sun starts setting, turning the grays of the world into pink gold.

"Be gentle with her," Tzuyu says finally. The way she says "her" means Lisa, I can tell that much. "She's been through a lot because of me. The fact that she doesn't hate me after all this, after everything I've put her through, only makes me love her more. And it only makes me feel more awful."

"She's a good guy," I say. "And so are you."

"I wish." She laughs. "But no. I wasn't a good guy. Not in this life. Maybe in the next. If there is a next life at all. For all my disbelief, I still like to think there is one. Secretly. Does that make me a hypocrite?"

"It makes you human."

I don't want to ruin this moment by asking about what Lisa did that night, but the shadow of Nameless looms over me, darker in the silence.

"Nameless sent me a picture," I say. "Of Lisa with a baseball bat. It's bloody. And I can't help but think—"

"She didn't do it," Tzuyu says instantly.

"What?"

"She didn't kill that man. She didn't kill anyone. She chased them off, all of them. One of them just happened to run the wrong way in the dark and fell to his death."

My lungs feel like they're frozen. Tzuyu shakes her head.

"Why is Nameless sending you things?"

I shrug. "I don't know."

"It sounds like he wants to torment you."

"Probably. Knowing him, definitely."

Tzuyu inhales. "That night, there was an investigation. We called the police. Well, I didn't. Chan did. I was busy having a seizure. I was so scared I tripped on a root and slammed my head on a tree. It was a chain reaction—Tallie came out. I couldn't stop it."

Her eyes are distant, glassy. Her words sound robotic, as if she's said this to someone else before.

"They panicked. Chan, Rosé, Lisa. They were just kids. We were all just kids. I'd kept it a secret from them. Lisa called an ambulance. Chan ran. Rosé buried Tallie so my grandmother wouldn't disown me. She was hard-core Catholic. They'd all been to my house and knew that. Lisa tried to protect me, until the last. Chan did, too, toward the end. So he doesn't deserve my hate."

Tzuyu kicks her feet against the edge of the roof.

"The paramedics came for me; the police came for the man's body. I was unconscious the whole time. At the hospital they did a CAT scan and found my tumors, and found out about Tallie. The doctors didn't tell Grandma about her, because of patient confidentiality and all that. When I woke up, Lisa told me what happened, what my life would be from then on."

She looks to me.

"She blames herself for that man's death, even if the police ruled it an accident. Rosé's parents paid for major PR work. The papers reported the guys as drunk fishers out on the lake for the weekend, even when the police knew the real reason. The news said Joseph Hernandez just…disappeared. Ran off. Nothing about Rosé hiring them. Nothing about how they worked for her parents' company. After that, the rest of the men moved out of state. Everything was cleaned up by Rosé's parents. It was terrifying, watching the efficiency money could buy."

"So, Belina," I start. "Chan took me to see a woman Lisa is sending checks to. She was—"

"Joseph's wife," Tzuyu agrees. "And Lisa tries to fix everything with money, because it's the only thing she can do. Because the other wounds are too deep to fix."

"How do you know about Belina?"

"Chan told me," she says. "He's still afraid of me. But texting works wonders for talking to people who can't look you in the eye. He hasn't told me how Lisa gets the money. Or from whom."

I'm suddenly very interested in my shoes. The whole night I'd been wondering about is out in the open now. I know what happened. And it's every bit as terrifying as I thought it would be. Things like this don't happen to normal people. But they happened, anyway. And I can't change that.

"Things just happen," I echo Tzuyu's words back at her. "Good or bad."

"And we live with the consequences," she agrees. "Or not. Some people decide to die with the consequences, instead."

"Some people are pretty dumb."

We watch the sun go down and the moon rise. Each day passes as it always does, in slow, twenty-four-hour increments, but for Tzuyu, I realize, it must feel like the blink of an eye.

Eventually it gets too cold for us to stay up on the roof, and so we go inside and get hot cocoa from the cafeteria. We talk about the party, what to wear and what music to play. Tzuyu insists she doesn't want any presents, save for my presence.

..

..

When I finally get home, Mom is filling out bills at the kitchen table. I hug her from behind, and she turns and laughs.

"What's the occasion?"

"I realized," I murmur into her shoulder. "I realized people are fragile. Everything could change in a second. And I don't—I don't want to waste time not hugging you or telling you you're the best mom I could ask for."

"Oh, honey." Mom turns and hugs me back. "Are you all right? What brought this on? Is this about Stanford?"

"No. A friend," I say. "She's shown me a lot of stuff. About life. And not-life. It's so short. Life is so short and weird and things keep happening all the time, and I don't know what to do anymore. I can't do anything except be me."

Mom's hug tightens.

"That's all you need to do. No matter what you do, I'm here for you, sweetie. Always. You'll always have me on your side."

"I know." I bury my face in her chest and say the words that hold the most truth, the most gratitude. "Thank you."

..

I stare at the last email Nameless sent me for what feels like forever. He wants me to suffer. That's why he keeps doing this. He won't let me go. He can't. Not after what he inflicted on me. He wants to feed off the pain as much as he can, while he still can. Just like Liam. But I won't let him. Life is too short.

Responding would just give him pleasure. I click on the emails and delete them and, for good measure, my email account. I start a new one, the fresh, blank inbox a comfort. I can still start over.

Next year I'll have to start over, because college demands it. The next step of life demands it.

But I can always, always start over, because I'm here, outside a hospital. Because I'm alive and healthy. Because I won't let my past chain me down like it has Lisa, and Tzuyu, and Chan, and Rosé.

Because I'm not Mom. I'm not Lisa. I'm not Tzuyu. I am not my past.

I'm Jennie Kim, and I'm my own future.

..