I found myself wishing Win was there. Not for myself, obviously, but for Echo. Someone who she’d cared about, someone who’d probably cared about her, paying his respects. Someone who’d made her life less alone.
Diana held my hand and a bandaged-up Markos held her other one. Diana had cut her burned hair into an asymmetrical bob, and it was redder than ever. Markos’s scars made him look even more like a handsome villain. Markos had moved in to Diana’s basement after leaving the hospital. Diana told me things were strained with his brothers, and his mother might have to go to jail. Jess had found out that I could sue Cal in civil court for damages, but the Waterses had no money; it had all gone to Echo and her mom over the past nine years. And I didn’t want to sue. I believed it was an accident back then and that the shock of remembering it all at once and suddenly pushed Cal into what he did at the hardware store. He seemed to be suffering enough, living with his messed-up mind. After the hospital, he’d moved to the psych ward, where he was likely to spend many years. I didn’t forgive him—not yet—but I wanted to, one day.
Word was that the Waterses would move as soon as they could, but that Markos wanted to stay. Markos and I weren’t talking too much—again, not yet—and the only thing he said to me at Echo’s funeral was out of the corner of his mouth, while Diana was in the bathroom.
“I get it,” he said, and then looked away, as if there was anyone there who cared whether or not he spoke to me.
At first I thought he meant he got why I took the spell to erase Win, but we’d already covered that—my general weakness, not caring enough about Win to remember. When I thought about it more I figured he was talking about Diana, trying to say he got why she was my best friend. And then I started thinking maybe it went even deeper than that. Maybe he understood me and Win, why Win wanted to be with me, why we belonged together. I would’ve liked to know that myself, but I knew I couldn’t ask. It was a secret I’d never know.
I could see why Diana loved him, though. Around her, he showed all the good parts I remembered about being friends with him: he was funny and loyal and quick to defend his friends. All that—plus he listened to her and took her seriously, believed in her completely. It made me think I’d underestimated them both.
After the funeral, he went to Diana’s to rest and she and I sat in my room, like we had so often before. Diana was making me laugh about something Markos had said to her when I stopped and blurted out, “I don’t think I’m ever going to dance again.”
Diana tilted her head, doubtful. “You could get another spell, like the one Echo made for you.”
“Knee surgery, too.”
“Sure. But a spell and knee surgery aren’t that big a deal. You’ve been training for years. And the Manhattan Ballet . . .”
“If Win hadn’t died, I don’t think I would’ve gone to New York. I would’ve stayed here to be with him.”
Diana shook her head. “You’ve always wanted to dance.”
“That doesn’t mean I’ll never want anything else.”
She hugged her arms over her chest. “Echo wanted you to dance.”
“Echo wanted to get out of here.” That sounded cruel, so I shook my head. “She wanted to save her mother. And I think she wanted . . . people. Other people. She helped us. She gave me what I told her would make me happy. I think . . .” I thought she was in love with Win, actually. But she kept Win’s secrets, so I kept hers. “I think she felt guilty about Cal, too.”
“You shouldn’t feel guilty. If you took another spell, everyone would understand.”
“Yeah, maybe.”
I pressed my aching wrist to my heart.
I didn’t need more spells. It was enough work getting used to the ones I had. The blank of my parents’ last moments on earth. The year I’d lost being in love with Win. The different kind of pain I had instead.
“Are you going to be okay?” she asked.
I fought the urge to nod and laugh and say “of course,” and instead thought carefully about what I really felt. “I feel like everything’s changing and it’s totally out of my control,” I said.
She nodded. “And you can’t dance.”
“I can’t dance,” I said, and ignored the lump that rose in my throat. “But Jess and I are going to New York anyway.”
Diana froze, waiting for the joke. “But—why?”
“People who don’t dance move to New York all the time.”
“You’ll leave me here?”
“You won’t be alone.”
“Don’t throw Markos in my face. I never did that to you when you were with Win.”
“Not just Markos,” I said, and that damn lump kept rising. I tried breathing through my nose. “You have—your parents. You remember the kids at school, the teachers. My memories are fuzzy.”
“You remember me,” she said fiercely. “You want to forget me, too?”