Chapter 12

The first thing I feel is cold. Not the thin hospital kind, but wet, bone‑deep cold, like it’s leaking through my skin. When I open my eyes, I’m standing in the sea house again. The boards under my bare feet are slick with seawater. Wind howls through broken panes. The salt in the air tastes like rust on my tongue. “Em.” His voice comes from behind me. I don’t have to turn to know it’s him. My whole body already knows—shoulders tightening, pulse jumping, that horrible, wonderful...