All that seemed surreal against the backdrop of what they’d learned.
“How did we not see it?” she asked. “That she was so angry or…or jealous of my relationship with Emma?”
“She never showed you any of that?” Aaron asked.
“No. Not really. We weren’t really friends, but she must have been holding in all those feelings. When they finally came out, it was a big, awful mess. Jacob, we were right about the mix-up. She apparently thought it was me in that car, driving. It was me she was angry with.” Jacob wrapped his arm around her shoulder. “And the house? That was just pure out-of-control Kinsey, understanding that she had royally messed everything up. Poor Emma paid the price.”
“At least now we don’t have to keep looking over our shoulders,” Jacob said. “Thanks to you, Aaron, for putting it together about her car.”
Aaron folded his arms across his chest. “Dumb luck, I guess. They’re arresting her, right?”
Aubrey nodded. “She admitted to everything. But because she was up on that cliff, possibly to harm herself, they’ve put a thirty-six-hour psych hold on her at a hospital over in Portland. Also,” she added, “possibly because she first claimed she was talking to an angel out there on the cliff. Who also claimed to be talking to Emma.” Aubrey shook her head. “Can you believe that? As if it weren’t bad enough, she almost killed Emma, but she has to drag her into her fantasy confession. Later, she acted like she had no idea what they were talking about when they brought it up.”
“It’s going to break Emma’s heart to learn it was her,” Jacob said.
The worry written on Aubrey’s face said it all. “I hope,” she whispered against his shoulder, “I hope she gets the chance to learn what really happened. Then at least we’ll have Emma back.”
*
Connor and Emma,who had been listening silently, left them then and moved into her new private room. This room was much better than the ICU had been, with a big window spanning one wall, where the spectacle of the sunset over the Pacific would be a nightly ritual, and a cozy chair and lamp sat in one corner for guests. Her color looked better. She looked, Connor thought, like she was sleeping. But waking she was not.
Emma stood over the bed, staring at her body. She wasn’t urging herself to wake up. Nor hoping she wouldn’t wake. She was caught between those two things, with him, squarely in the middle.
He understood the emotions churning through her. With everything that had come at her in the last few days she was dizzy with feelings even he couldn’t decipher. Feelings that included a messy, conflicted sadness regarding him. That was all his fault.
She moved past him to stand at the window, looking out at the green summer trees and the hills surrounding the hospital. She wanted out, he sensed. Out of here. Away from the possibility of dying. She wanted to be flying again. Looking down from above without worry.
“Do you think,” she asked him, “I’ll be stuck here forever? In this in-between place?”
He moved beside her at the window. “I dinna think so, lass.”
“What makes you so sure?”
“There’s a finite end to this. One way or the other. At least Marguerite promised me so.”
“Right. The Council for you. But what about me? What if,” she began gingerly, “what if I’m damaged and I can’t—What if I said that I wanted to stay with you? To go. Not stay here.”
Now it was his turn to stare out the window without really seeing. “Even if ye could choose for yerself, Emma, that’s no’ how this works.”
“Then howdoesit work?”
He swallowed hard. “If goin’ was your path, I’m afraid I’ve got a few hundred years on ye in experience. Our paths would diverge. You and I…well, we wouldn’t be possible.”
“You’re saying I can’t choose?”
“Most would stay if the choice was theirs, no? But every life has a season. Whether it’s summer or winter, autumn or spring that draws that life to a close, it’s the right time to start again. The absolute right time. And it’s without regret. Because now they know, behind them, the angels are watchin’ over those they loved, helpin’ them find their own way.”
“My gran believed that,” she said. “But…I still miss her.”
“I know. Emma,” he began, “my hope is if ye stay, you’ll forget me and this time together. It’s just as well if ye do.”
“And if I go?”
“Then you’ll move on. Free from me as well.”
She stared out at the changing sky. “I see. So, tell me the truth, then. Why did you kiss me back there on the dock? Was it just…to let me go?”
“Ye don’t really think that, do ye?”
