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"What did the light do?" she asked her brother. "Did it move?"

”Philip thought for a moment. "He was walking around us, like in a circle."

"That's how it was in my dream," Ivy said. Then she turned her head and quickly put her finger to her lips.

When Gregory entered a minute later, Philip and she were sitting side by side, watching the movie intently.

"I thought some tea might help you calm down," Gregory said, crouching down next to her, handing her a warm mug. He handed Philip a Yoo-hoo.

"Hey, thanks," Philip said happily.

Gregory nodded and glanced back at Ivy. "Don't you want it?"

"Uh, sure. I-it's fine-great," she stammered, surprised by the double image that had just flashed before her eyes: Gregory as he was now and Gregory standing in her bedroom. When she took the drink from Gregory's hands, she saw him handing her another cup of steaming tea. Then she saw him as if he were sitting close to her, sitting on her bed and holding the cup to her lips, urging her to drink.

"Would you rather have something else?" Gregory asked.

"No, this is fine." Was she remembering that night? Could Gregory have given her drugged tea?

"You look pale," he said, and touched her bare arm. "You're ice cold, Ivy."

Her arm was covered with goose bumps. He ran his hand up and down it. Ivy became aware of just how strong his fingers were. Gregory had held her many times since Tristan's death, but for the first time Ivy noticed the power in his grip. He was staring beyond her now, at the television screen, at a person getting thrashed by a dinosaur.

"Gregory, you're hurting my arm."

He released her quickly and sat back on his heels to look at her. It was impossible to read the thoughts behind his light gray eyes.

"You still seem upset," he observed.

"Just tired," Ivy replied. "I'm tired of people watching me, waiting for… for I don't know what."

"Waiting for you to crack up?" he suggested softly.

"I guess so," she said. But I won't, she thought. And I haven't yet, despite what you or anyone thinks.

"Thanks for the tea," she said. "I'm feeling better. I think I'll sit while with Philip and watch these guys become dinosaur munchies."

One side of Gregory's mouth drew up a little.

"Thanks," Ivy repeated. "I don't know what I'd do without you."

He rested his hand on top of hers for a moment, then left her and Philip to watch the video. As soon as Ivy heard him climb the steps, she poured her tea into a potted plant. Philip was too engrossed in the film to notice.

Ivy sat back on the sofa and closed her eyes, trying to remember what the light was like, trying to hold on to the glimmer of hope her dream had given her.

Could it be true? Had Philip been seeing him all along? Was an angel there for her? Her eyes tingled with tears. Was it Tristan?

"Tristan?" Ivy called softly, and shivered with excitement. She had hidden in the school locker room Thursday afternoon, waiting till the swimming pool was empty and the coach had left for a faculty meeting.

Then, fully dressed, she had slipped off her shoes and climbed the thin silver ladder. Now she stood on the board high above the pool, just as she had the previous April.

Though Ivy could swim now, some of the old fear remained. She took three steps forward and felt the board flex beneath her. Gritting her teeth, Ivy stared down at the aqua water, streaked and spangled by the fluorescent lights. She would never love the water the way Tristan had, but this was where he had first reached out to her. This was where she had to try to reach back to him.

"Tristan?" she called softly.

The only sound was the steady buzzing of the fluorescent lights.

Angels, help me! Help me reach him.

Ivy didn't say the words out loud. After Tristan's death, she had stopped praying to her angels. After losing him, she couldn't find the words; she couldn't believe they would be heard. But this prayer felt as if it were burning its way out of her heart.

She took two more steps forward. "Tristan!" she cried out loud. "Are you there?"

She walked to the end of board and stood with her toes at the very edge.

"Tristan, where are you?" Her voice echoed back from the concrete walls.

"I love you!" she cried. "I love you!"

Ivy dropped her head. He wasn't there. He couldn't hear her. She should get down before someone caught her up there, acting crazy.

Ivy took a step back from the edge. Watching her feet, she slowly and carefully turned around on the board. When she looked up, she gasped.

At the other end of the board, the air shimmered. It was like liquid light-a gold stem burning in the rough shape of a person. The glowing shape was surrounded by a mist of sheer and trembling colors. This was what she had seen at the train station.

"Tristan," she said softly. She reached out her hand and started walking toward him. She longed to be enveloped by his golden light, surrounded by the colors, embraced by all that Tristan was now.

"Tell me it's you. Speak to me," she begged. "Tristan!"

"Ivy!"

The two voices slammed off the walls-Gregory's and Suzanne's.

"Ivy, what are you doing up there?"

"She's cracking up, Gregory! I was afraid this would happen."

Ivy looked down and saw Gregory already two steps up the ladder and Suzanne looking about frantically.

"I'll get help," Suzanne said. "I'll go get Ms. Bryce."

"Wait," Gregory said.

"But, Gregory, she's-" "Wait." It was a command. Suzanne fell silent.

"There are enough stories about Ivy going around already. We can handle her ourselves."

Handle her? Ivy repeated silently. They were talking about her as if she were a mischievous child or maybe a crazy girl who couldn't take care of herself.

"I'll get her down," Gregory said calmly.

"I'll get myself down," Ivy said. "If I need any help, Tristan is here."

"I told you-she's gone, Gregory! Totally nuts! Don't you see-" "Suzanne," Ivy shouted down at her, "can't you see his light?"

Now Gregory was scrambling up the ladder.

"There's nothing there, Ivy. Nothing," Suzanne moaned.

"Look," Ivy said, and pointed. "Right there!" Then she stared across the board at Gregory, who had pulled himself up on it. Suzanne was right.

There was nothing there, no shimmering colors, no golden light "Tristan?"

"Gregory," he said in a hoarse whisper, then he held out his hand.

Ivy looked to either side of her. Was she going crazy? Had she had imagined it all? "Tristan?"

"That's enough, Ivy. Come down now."

She didn't want to go with him. She longed to go back to the golden light, to be surrounded by it again.

She'd give anything to be held inside that moment with Tristan.

"Come here, Ivy. Don't make this difficult."

Ivy hated his patronizing tone.

"Come on!" Gregory ordered. "Do you want me to get Ms. Bryce?"

She glared at him, but she knew she couldn't fight him. "No," Ivy said at last. "I can get down by myself.

Go ahead. Go ahead! I'll follow you."

"Good girl," Gregory said, then descended the ladder. Ivy walked to the end of the board and turned around. She was about to back down the first step when Suzanne called out "Will! Over here! Hurry."

"Be quiet, Suzanne," Gregory said.

But Will, who had just come into the pool area, saw Ivy up on the board and ran toward Gregory and Suzanne. "Beth said you were looking for her," he said to them breathlessly. "Is she okay? What was she trying to do?"

The resentment burning in Ivy now flared into anger. She. Her. They were talking about her as if she couldn't hear them, as if she couldn't understand.

"She and her are right here!" Ivy shouted down at them. "You don't have to talk about me as though my mind has gone."