Wyatt wanted, so badly, to reach out and take her hand and never let go. But he was cut off, shut out, partitioned behind glass. She was there, and he was here. She was real, and Wyatt was just a memory of a person, a ghost, a dead planet anchored to its orbit while the rest of the universe drifted farther and farther away. He didn’t understand why he was so fucked up. He was the one who had survived.
