“What if…” Panic rains down on me. It settles in my throat and feels like a noose. It bites at my chest, causing my next words to tinge with acid on my tongue. “What if I lose you?” The smallest smile strains Tabitha’s mouth. “I’m already lost,” she says, glancing down at the bud pressed between her thumb and finger. A sprig of new life, waiting to bloom. “I need to go there to come back.”
