Real or not, I have two lives left. Aiden took the third, and ever since then, I haven’t cared if I lived or died. My eyes snap open. Face the truth. Face myself. After nine months of sunshine and wide-open spaces and bruised bones, Aiden’s still here. Every night in my nightmares. I thought I’d be happier here. I thought I had a plan that would fix everything, fix me. I thought I’d be okay. “You are,” I tell my reflection. “You’re fucking fine.”
