“I’m here,” he says, voice thick.
“I know,” I say, clinging to him.
Because for the first time in forever, I’m not lost.
I’m Tara Monroe.
And I’m alive.
We huddle togetheron the frozen boards, Hunter’s coat wrapped around both our shoulders. My skin stings from the cold, but inside, something else is burning. The lake is a black mirror behind us, swallowing every sound, every word I’ve ever screamed into the void. My hair drips on his sleeve, and Hunter tries to brush it off but ends up smoothing my cheek instead, like I’m something precious.
We don’t speak for a while. Just breathe. The mist rising off the water catches the morning light and turns the whole world silver. I don’t think I’ve ever seen anything so beautiful or so sad.
Finally, I find the words.
“What if Daisy disappears?” I whisper, barely moving my lips. “What if she just goes away, and I’m stuck as this broken girl you used to know?”
Hunter goes rigid for a second, then cups my face in both hands. His thumbs are hot and rough against my jaw, the pressure grounding me.
“She’s not going anywhere,” he says, voice thick. “You’re still you. Daisy is you. Tara is you. They’re both here, at thesame moment in time.” His eyes fill, and he shakes his head, frustrated. “They’re both perfect. I love all of you. Even the angry parts. Even the ones that hate me.”
My throat aches. “I do hate you,” I say, because it’s true.
He smiles, and the world tilts a little. “I can live with that.”
Something bubbles up between us, equal parts laughter and tears. For the first time since the crash, I feel like I can breathe all the way down to my toes.
I lean in and kiss him, hard, our teeth clacking together. He makes a sound, halfway between a groan and a sob, and pulls me tighter. The coat slips off, and the air stings my arms, but I don’t care. I’m alive, and I want to feel everything.
When we break apart, I look him in the eyes. “You know what happens now, right?”
He blinks, wary. “What?”
I stand, strip off what’s left of my wet clothes, and let them drop in soaked tangles around my ankles. I’m trembling, but not from cold. I face the lake, toes curling on the edge.
“I’m doing it again,” I say.
Hunter rises behind me, fast, grabbing for my wrist. “Tara, don’t, it’s freezing?—”
But I’m already moving. I sprint the last steps and jump.
The water slams into me, ten times colder than before. It feels like dying and being born in the same instant. For a second, my body shuts down. Then every cell screams.
But this time, I don’t fight it. I let myself go under.
I let the cold gnaw at my bones, let the water fill my ears, my eyes, my mouth.
And the memories come—so sharp, so bright, they’re like lightning in my skull.
— I’m six, jumping off this same dock, screaming for my dad to watch me. He claps, arms wide, waiting for me to swim to him. I love him, even then, with a desperation I don’t understand.
— I’m twelve, furious and hormonal, slamming a door in my dad’s face because he just divorced my mom. I hate him. I love him. I want him to never leave.
— I’m sixteen, drunk on cheap vodka at a party, crying in pathetic sobs because some boy just told me I wasn’t pretty.
— I’m twenty, working at the Daisy Cafe, making up stories for customers and sneaking shots of espresso in the back. I call myself Daisy as a joke. My boss thinks I’m adorable. My best friend thinks I’m insane.
— I’m driving too fast, music up too loud, the world a smear of lights. The phone rings. Eliza’s voice, blabbering about her engagement, but I never get to answer. The crash is sudden, total. I wake up in darkness, and I don’t know my name.