“Sure,” my mother said with a nod.
Even in the dark, I could see her faint smile.
“It’s been a pleasure, Joshua Mayhew,” she said, extending her Bible-free hand. “A brief one, but a pleasure nonetheless.”
Joshua laughed quietly. With a smaller version of his usual grin, Joshua took my mother’s hand and shook it.
“It’s been a pleasure for me, too, Mrs. Ashley.”
Then he blanched and dropped her hand. I could almost hear the screamed regrets in his head: she hadn’t told him her last name, so he shouldn’t have known it. How would he explain this? How could he?
My mother, however, didn’t call him out on this error. In fact, she didn’t say anything further. She simply raised one eyebrow and flashed him that half smile of hers before turning to close the door.
“The mailbox—,” Joshua began feebly. But my mother had already shut the door, effectively leaving Joshua with the secret of why this eighteen-year-old boy knew her last name.
Joshua and I drove in silence for a while, although he didn’t take us home.
I didn’t need to ask where we were going as he pulled off onto a steep, pine-thick road. Although he’d never taken this route before and the night had fallen dark and heavy around us, I instinctively knew our destination.
After winding his way up and around the sharp curves that the road cut through Robber’s Cave Park, Joshua parked the truck next to a small clearing. He left the truck running but turned off its lights and then exited to help me out of the cab. I stood to one side while he leaned back in and fiddled with the MP3 player, which he’d attached to the truck’s stereo.
My favorite song—the one to which he’d introduced me and that I loved for its slowly soaring guitar—drifted out of the open door. Joshua pulled away from the truck and, without a word, took my hand. He led me to the middle of the clearing, just to the right of our favorite park bench. Then he pulled me close to him. I draped my arms around his neck, he wrapped his arms around my waist, and we began to sway in time to the music.
Soon the song ended and another of my favorites began. I suspected Joshua had created this list of songs just for me, but I didn’t ask if this was the case. There was romance in the mystery.
Eventually, I sighed and looked up into his eyes, which were almost black in the darkness.
“Thank you for tonight,” I murmured.
“You aren’t . . . sad, or upset with me?”
“I’m sad, for sure. But I’m happy, too. For lots of reasons. Seeing my mother. And then . . . well, you.”
“Me?”
“Yes, you. You’re constantly giving me the best gifts, even if I don’t realize it at the time. Like tonight. Or when you brought me to see my home for the first time. Or when you woke me up.” I slipped one arm from around Joshua’s neck and placed my hand upon his cheek. “So, Joshua, how could I ever be upset with you?”
He laughed quietly, taking my hand from his cheek and wrapping my arm back around his neck. “Well, I haven’t given you your final surprise yet, Amelia.”
“Life?” I asked with a small grin.
Joshua grinned, too—broad and charming and so completely perfect—before leaning in close to me.
“No,” he whispered, shaking his head. “This.”
And then he pressed his lips to mine.
I tightened my arms around his neck and kissed him back with all my might. Tingling fire spread through me, though it was far less fierce and all-consuming than the light I could create by myself.
But this fire was better. Much, much better.
As Joshua and I kissed, I made a list of the things I didn’t have: a pulse, for one, but also a family I could talk to, including my missing father and my lonely mother; a future—one free of dark spirits and vengeful Seers, one I could share with the boy in my arms.
Then I made a list of the things I did have: a wakefulness I’d long forgotten but could now enjoy again; maybe the occasional scent of honeysuckle, or Joshua’s cologne.
Then, of course, there was Joshua himself.
As I reviewed the lists, I found that, were I given a choice, I would always choose the second list.
In an instant. In a heartbeat.
I always would choose the hereafter, when it was a hereafter spent with him.
UNCORRECTED E-PROOF—NOT FOR SALE
HarperCollins Publishers
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Acknowledgments
Enormous thanks to my editor, Barbara Lalicki, for her warmth, insight, and encouragement. Also to Maria Gomez, Alexandra Bracken, and the entire team at HarperCollins Children’s—I can’t say thank you enough.
I’m eternally grateful to my agent, Catherine Drayton, who took a huge chance on me. I don’t know where I’d be right now if it wasn’t for that first international call and my mad scramble to find a spot in my house with good cell reception. (Or that first cup of tea when I realized it was all real.) Also, kudos to the staff at InkWell Management for their extra help in getting this book rolling.
To my parents, thank you for so elegantly doing the impossible: keeping me grounded while telling me to reach for the stars. To Robert, thank you for your patience, humor, and endless ability to deal with the crazy. You’re proof that, sometimes, we win big.
To my amazing sounding board: Melissa Peters Allgood, Beth Prykryl, Krissy Carlson, as well as Andrea, Sarah, Tonya, Brandy, Jason, and a myriad of other cheerleaders. You’re ridiculous. I love you all.
And finally, to Melissa Thompson and Mandy Haskins—this book would not have happened without you. Hands in, forever.
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Tara Hudson, Hereafter
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