Colin laughs, shaking his head. “I’d forgotten about that. We were twelve. I broke my ankle.” There’s a hint of pride in this admission that makes her smile.

“I saw you ride out here the first time,” she says, the images unrolling in her head like a reel of film. “You were a little scared but a lot more excited.” She grins as she remembers his pink cheeks and smiling face, the way he kept glancing back over his shoulder as if he expected to be caught any minute. “You two were the only ones who came out here at first, but you didn’t seem to be looking for me.”

“I remember that! Jay dared me to walk out on the ice when we were seven. The joke ended up being on him because he cut himself on the dock and needed a tetanus shot. Man, we got in trouble for that.”

Their joined hands swing between them as they continue to walk along the trail. Every few minutes Colin lifts the back of hers to his mouth, kissing it. His lips are warm. She can feel the puff of air against her skin, the heat of his breath as he exhales.

“And obviously it didn’t stop you.”

He grins. “No way. We’ve grown up hearing stories about this place. About Walkers and disappearances, of people claiming to see a girl slip along the shore or hearing voices.” He bends to pick up a leaf, spinning it in front of him. “I mean, it was creepy, yeah. But not everyone bought into it. Just adults discouraging crazy kids from drinking and fornicating at the lake. Made it sound cooler, really.”

Lucy snorts and shakes her head. “Of course the prospect of danger would make it more appealing to you. And even before I died, I don’t think we were supposed to come out here. Too far from the main buildings, too many ways to get in trouble.”

They stop walking, and he bends to her, whispering, his smiling kiss covering her lips, “I can think of lots of ways to get in trouble out here.”

“How long have we been gone?” she asks, tilting her head back as Colin kisses a path from her chin to her neck. He mumbles something unintelligible, and she means to ask him what he said, but a bird cuts through the air over his shoulder. A raven. It’s beautiful, with wings like shards of ebony. It flies overhead, calling out into the silence before circling back and landing somewhere in front of them.

Lucy turns to find it, to point out the hauntingly beautiful bird to Colin, but she freezes, the words lost in a gasp when she realizes how far they’ve walked.

She can see the hulking shape of Ethan Hall behind them in the distance, and ahead of her is the raven, its talons wrapped around the highest arch of the imposing metal gate that surrounds Saint Osanna’s.

But something is different. Instead of feeling an invisible bubble pushing against her chest and sending her back to the trail, she feels like a fish caught on the end of a hook. Pulled. Slowly reeled in.

She takes a step forward.

“Luce?” Colin asks. “You okay?”

“I don’t know,” she says, continuing on, her steps quicker now. Purposeful. As she nears the iron fence, she looks up and meets the raven’s watchful stare, can see her own reflection in the luminous black of the bird’s eyes. “Something . . . something’s different.”

She hears the crunch of snow as Colin jogs to catch up, feels the beat of a pulse in her hollow veins. When Colin stops at her side, the pull gets stronger. “Do you feel that?”

“Feel what? Lucy, what’s going on?”

“Like suction? Like I’m metal and there’s this giant magnet on the other side? You don’t feel that?”

Colin shakes his head, eyes wide as he blinks from Lucy to the gate and back again. “Do you think you can get through?”

“I don’t know.” Her mouth is suddenly so dry, drier than she can ever remember. For the first time since waking, she wants something to drink, can almost imagine the feel of cold water as she swallows.

“Touch it,” she hears Colin whisper. “Lucy, touch it.”

She licks her lips, shaking as she lifts her arm, fingers trembling as they find the icy metal. There’s no resistance. She holds her breath, watching as her hand passes between two of the ornate balusters and to the other side.

“Oh my God,” she gasps. “Oh my God!” There’s the faintest hint of a tan; blue veins form a map across her palm and up her wrist. There’s a scar. Freckles. Imperfections. She forms a fist, feeling the warmth of her own skin. “Colin!”

But he doesn’t answer. Colin is gone.

CHAPTER 32 HIM

SOMETIME DURING THE NIGHT, COLIN FEELS Lucy slip into bed behind him. The mattress shifts with her weight as she burrows under the layers of quilts and electric blankets to wrap her arms around his chest. He’s not sure how, but Lucy and Jay have managed to move him from the lake to the dorm and up to their room without anyone noticing. He’s wearing a set of old flannel pajamas and is in bed beneath a pile of blankets. Jay is gone, so Colin assumes he must have had the first watch. He doesn’t remember anything after leaving Lucy’s underwater world.

“Hi,” she says, her voice muffled against his back. “Hey.” It comes out as a croak, and he closes his eyes tight against the burn. His throat feels swollen, scorched, as if he ate a meal of solid fire. “Have you been lying here for long?”

“No. I got here a few minutes ago. I’ve been waiting for Dot to go to sleep. She’s been down in the common room stirring the same cup of coffee and staring at a blank TV for more than an hour.”

He doesn’t want Dot to see him like this, and the guilt he’s been trying to ignore flares inside his chest. “She didn’t see you, did she?”

“No,” Lucy assures him. “She never would have let me get past the stairs.”

So Dot came to his dorm to be close to him? He rubs his face, groaning quietly. “She’s worried. She feels so responsible for me.”

“Yeah.”

“I think she knows I’m doing something crazy. She knows about you.” He shivers and presses the heating pad closer to his chest.