After trapping us, the wraiths waited until Belial signaled to them again. Then, moving in unison, the wraiths stood behind us with their torches. Without further signal, mine set the kindling beneath me afire.

I could see my companions craning desperately toward me, wordlessly begging me to give the order—to make whatever attempt we could, right now, before any of us suffered unspeakable pain.

But I couldn’t give that order yet. Not until I saw how the bluish hellfire reacted to my glow.

“Wait,” I screamed to my companions as the fire crawled up my boots and jeans, searing my flesh beneath them. “Wait!”

I could hear my mother screaming—I could hear them all screaming. I was almost past the point of rational thought myself when I saw the two flames join. At that second they began to boil and bubble like liquid, doubling in size and brightness, shifting until they’d both turned almost white in color. Combined, the two flames became something new—something incendiary that resembled pictures I’d seen of exploding atom bombs. Together these flames were terrible. Unstoppable.

Perfect.

“Do it!” I sobbed. “Do it now!”

Even over the growing roar of our pyres, I heard the distinct sounds of supernatural glows as they ignited. I also heard the collective gasp of the demons, as five separate glows united with the hellfire. It had started to spread across the floor, becoming one enormous, supernatural bonfire.

Soon, the flames were licking at my neck. I’d never felt anything like this—anything so painful, wretched, evil. But I still had the strength for one more plea.

“Please!” I screamed, crying out over the roar of the fire and the demons’ panicked shouts. Crying to the light, to the Highest Powers.

“Please, take us. Please.”

I ended my begging with one broken sob as the pain overwhelmed me. Blessedly, I began to lose consciousness. But not before I thought I heard Belial shout, “Divert it! Direct it toward the High Bridge hell gate before it incinerates us all!”

“Please,” I mumbled, forcing my charred neck to lift so that I could stare upward, toward whatever or whoever waited high above this evil place. A name rang in my mind, so, in a final, desperate attempt, I called out. Not to the Highest Powers or even to Melissa.

I cried out for my father.

And suddenly, an earsplitting boom echoed throughout the room—possibly throughout all of hell. Immediately thereafter, I went deaf.

Through the white flames, I could see the demons scrambling and running. I could see chunks of the ceiling cracking and falling to the floor. And I could still feel the fire, searing into my skin.

I lost, I thought. I’m lost.

But suddenly, I remembered. Memories from my life, and my afterlife—they came flooding back into my mind, slowly at first but then gaining in speed.

My favorite stuffed animal—a bunny with an orange ribbon for a necktie, worn ragged by too much love. My first bicycle, a purple one with pink ribbons on the handles. The smell of my grandmother’s perfume. The way my dad’s hands felt when he held mine; the happy wrinkle just along the right corner of my mother’s mouth. How much Serena laughed when she couldn’t climb a rope in gym class, how bright the stars shined through my telescope, how excited I was when I solved a calculus problem. How I died, how I awoke from the fog. The taste of beignets the smell of salt water the silky lining of Gaby’s cape the slight chip in Jillian’s left canine the way a good song could run through my body like electricity Joshua’s smile Joshua’s kiss Joshua Joshua Joshua. . . .

And then, with his name still ringing in my mind, my world ended in a bright, beautiful flash of light.

EPILOGUE

Just after dawn, an enormous, earthquaking boom echoed throughout the river valley. And just after that, High Bridge exploded into a thousand little pieces.

Immediately, everyone took cover. Everyone except Joshua Mayhew.

He watched his friends and family run, diving for the tree line as fast as they could. But he couldn’t bring himself to move from this spot on the riverbank—the place where she’d told him to run. Or at least, he thought that wraith had been her. It was hard to tell, through all of its murky black shadows.

But whether or not Joshua knew the identity of the wraith, he certainly knew what the explosion meant. Especially with regard to her.

The last time she’d tried to destroy the bridge, it had rebuilt itself within minutes. But this time, when the chunks of concrete and threads of wire landed with sickening thuds on the riverbank, they stayed put—no screeching shadows or smirking demons appeared to reclaim them.

Even better, when the bridge fell, the darkness fell with it. As the remnants of High Bridge rained down, the netherworld melted away like paint that had been splashed with turpentine. Purple and red stains, gnarled trees, icy splinters—they all slid into puddles and then retracted in upon themselves, as though they were evaporating. Slowly, branch by branch and eddy by eddy, the riverbank of the living world began to reappear.

Eventually the rain of pavement and metal ended, and Joshua could better assess the damage. First, he glanced up to where the bridge used to stretch above the river. Now, two jagged ends of a rarely used road faced each other across the empty expanse. On the portion of the bank closest to the part of the road where the cars were parked, huge slabs of concrete had piled on top of one another. Almost as though they’d organized themselves for easier cleanup.

Looking at these ruins, Joshua experienced a strange rush of both triumph and misery. He had hated that bridge as a child, and his hate only grew after he fell in love with . . . her.

He still couldn’t make himself think her name. Because he knew that the final destruction of the bridge didn’t just mean the end of this portal into the netherworld.

It meant the end of her.

Joshua didn’t know how, but she’d obviously done it: pulled down one of the entrances to hell, when no one else could. He’d never doubted that she was capable of it, but he’d hoped—God, he’d hoped—that she wouldn’t be willing to pay the price it required.

While he continued to stare at the wreckage, he heard the sound of voices moving closer to him. One by one, his friends and family rejoined him on the bank. Wisely, though, none of them spoke to him as they arrived. Not until his sister walked up to him.

At first, she didn’t speak either—just wrapped one arm around him and pulled him into a half hug.

Jillian waved vaguely to the river. “This is . . . ?”

“Impressive?” Joshua offered. “Horrifying?”

“Both,” she said softly, tightening their hug.

She didn’t ask to be forgiven for the role she’d played in all of this, and she didn’t have to. Joshua knew why she did it and, in a way, he agreed. They were safe—their entire town was safe—because the girl he loved made a sacrifice, and because his sister made one too. Joshua knew that, despite her uncaring façade, Jillian hadn’t wanted to pull that trigger.

After a long pause, she asked, “Do you think it’s over?”

Joshua hesitated, looking around the littered riverbed, and then nodded. “Yeah, it’s over. She did it.”

“You know, I kind of didn’t think she had it in her.”

“I did,” he said quietly.

The rest of their bedraggled little crew must have been listening to this entire exchange, because they all moved in unison, grouping more tightly together around the Mayhew siblings. Only now did Joshua notice that some of them were sobbing. He couldn’t say that he blamed them, after what they’d seen.