6 Heartfelt Words and Warm Embraces

Heartfelt Words and Warm Embraces

Savannah

T HE CHILL FROM CLIMBING S CAFELL P IKE STILL CLUNG TO ME LIKE A cloak. The weather today had not been like that of the Helvellyn climb. It was wet and stormy, the rain so heavy and cold that it seemed to sink into our skin and ice the marrow of our bones.

I had taken a scalding-hot shower to chase off the chill when we'd returned. But there was just something about today that had made me feel off . The gray clouds were oppressive, and the exhaustion from our hiking mixed with that of the jet lag was weighing down on me. I felt weary. And I yearned to go home. I wanted to feel the comfort of Ida's tight hugs, and I wanted to curl up on the couch with Mama and Daddy and just hear them talk about their day.

More than that, I wanted to see my Poppy in her Blossom Grove.

"It's been four years since your sister passed?" Mia asked, and I stared at the fire roaring in the small office that was acting as Mia and Leo's counseling room. I tensed at Mia's words. "How old was she when she died?"

I swallowed the lump that had risen to my throat. My throat always tightened when I was asked about Poppy. Like my body was defending itself from talking about my sister, from further ripping into an already open wound.

"Seventeen," I replied, forcing myself to comply. I wanted to be anywhere but here right now. But I had promised I would try. So, I clasped my hands together in my lap and kept my gaze downcast. I pulled the end of my sweater's sleeves down until they covered my palms. A nervous habit I'd always had in the moments I felt uncomfortable.

"Seventeen … the age you are now," Mia said, and she had clearly connected the dots. I nodded and stared back at the flames. The logs crackled and it reminded me of summers at the beach growing up.

"Was it quick? Her illness?"

I inhaled a fortifying breath and shook my head. "No," I whispered. "It stretched out over a couple of years." Tears brimmed in my eyes, and my mind took me back to those early days when Poppy was diagnosed. I could still remember Mama and Daddy sitting us down and telling me and Ida. I didn't think either of us had really understood the gravity of Poppy's illness. Well, not until we'd moved away to Atlanta for her treatment. Not until her appearance had changed, Mama and Daddy's smiles had become strained, and I'd realized that things weren't going the way we'd wanted.

I couldn't fight the memory that pushed into my mind …

I walked into Poppy's hospital room and stopped in my tracks. Ida's hand was wrapped in my own. She squeezed it to the point of pain when we saw Poppy looking so small in the middle of her hospital bed.

But that wasn't what had stopped us. Wasn't what had made tears spill over my eyes and track like twin waterfalls down my cheeks. "Your hair," Ida said, speaking for us both.

Poppy smiled and ran her hand over her bald head. "Has gone," she said, seeming just as upbeat as she always was. She tipped her head to the side. "Do I suit it?"

She did. She absolutely did. But then, she always looked beautiful. She was sixteen. Had been fighting cancer for a while. Had been getting lots of treatments … but I wasn't sure they were working. Ida and I were kept away a lot. I hated being away from Poppy. Something was missing in me when she wasn't around.

"You're perfect," I said and meant it.

"Then come here," she said and ushered us to the bed. "I missed you both so much." As we climbed on, we were careful not to sit on the wires that were stuck in her arm.

Poppy wrapped her arms around us both. But I didn't feel comfort from that hug. I only felt terror. Because Poppy always gave the tightest hugs. But as she held us, squeezing us close like she would never let us go, I felt her weakness. Ida laughed and kissed Poppy on the cheek, oblivious. But I felt a change in my older sister. Some hidden sixth sense made the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end and a pit of dread burrow in my stomach. When I looked at Poppy, I saw the reason for it in her green eyes.

She wasn't getting better.

I could tell by her faltering expression that she knew I knew it too. "I love you, Sav," she whispered, voice choked. Poppy was always strong, but in that moment, she couldn't stop her voice breaking, and it told me what I feared most. She was going to leave us.

On a choked sob, I couldn't help but fall back into her arms. I vowed to never let go …

"She didn't deserve to die," I found myself saying, too tired to even be shocked at my willing participation. A low buzz of irritation began to build inside of me. I was tired and lonely, and I was so mad at the world.

"Most people don't deserve to die, Savannah. But sadly, it's also an inevitability in life." My hands curled into my palms, my nails digging into my skin. Mia leaned forward. "Some people are only in our lives for a short time, but the mark they leave on us is a cherished tattoo."

My bitterness fell away at those words and devastation quickly swept in, a flood of sorrow dousing the anger that had built in my veins. A cherished tattoo … She had been.

"I miss her," I whispered and felt that cold ache in my bones grow stronger. The exhaustion I felt was an anchor keeping me from moving, from sheltering myself from all these thoughts that I didn't want in my head, memories that I didn't want to relive. The exertion of the past several days was enough to make me powerless to resist them.

"I know you do," Mia said and passed me a tissue from the box on the table. I hadn't even realized I was crying. I wiped at my tears and stilled when Mia asked, "It's good to remember those we have lost. Is there something you can do that Poppy liked to do? A way to feel closer to her?"

My breathing became as choppy as Windermere Lake earlier today, because there was.

I was depleted from the hiking. But what made me the most tired was the constant running from my sister. I didn't know if it was because all my fight had been burned away along with my energy over the past several days, but I was sick and tired of avoiding the message Poppy had wanted to give me.

Above all that, I just plain missed her. I missed Poppy so much that at times I thought that how intensely I mourned her would kill me too. "I have a notebook," I said, never taking my eyes from the fire. I felt the heat on my face, the burning wood scent clinging to my freshly washed hair. "Poppy … she left me a notebook. One that she had written in." I shifted on my seat. "One I've never been able to open."

"And what do you feel about that now?" Mia gently pushed.

My shoulders dropped in defeat. "That I'm tired of fighting it."

"Do you feel like reading it now or at some point soon? In private, of course," Mia said. An oil painting of another part of the Lake District caught my eye. It was hung on the wall, and it immediately made me think of the Lake poets. They came here to escape, to get away from the world that was changing too much and robbing them of their happiness.

They came here to spend their final days in peace.

Maybe I was meant to be here too. Away from everything I knew in a place of calm and peace. Maybe this was where I was meant to hear from Poppy again. Here, on a trip to help me move on from her death and hold on to some semblance of life. To remember her lovingly, how she deserved, and not a memory I should be afraid of.

"I think so," I said and felt my breathing come a little easier. Though I'd be lying if I said there wasn't a pit in my stomach at the thought of finally opening the first page. What would Poppy have wanted to say to me? I couldn't imagine.

"I think that's a good place to leave it for today, Savannah," Mia said. I moved my aching legs and had to stifle a groan. There was no part of me that wasn't sore. I didn't really understand the purpose of this part of the trip; all I felt like we'd done was push our bodies to the breaking point. All of us were ground down and depleted of strength. It hadn't been the uplifting experience I'd hoped it would be.

I rose from the chair, and Mia smiled at me. "You did really well today, Savannah. I'm proud of you."

"Thank you," I said and gingerly made my way from the room. I climbed the stairs to my dorm and, with every step, felt nerves accost my body. I was climbing toward the notebook.

I was finally going to do it.

Luckily, Lili and Jade weren't in the room when I entered. For a few minutes, I simply sat on the edge of the bed and stared at my suitcase that was across the room. It was empty but for the notebook in the zipped pocket.

Suddenly, an arrow of light darted through the window, casting a refracted rainbow onto the wooden floor—one that ended just where my suitcase was placed.

I shiver raced up my spine. I was never religious like Poppy, and when she left us, any belief in a greater power seemed to drain from my soul. To me, we were all made of stardust. And when we passed, we'd take our place back amongst the stars where we were created. But, I froze and stared at that celestial strip of colored light. The hairs on my arms and the back of my neck raised like static was flowing around me.

Eyes closed, I tipped my head up toward the ceiling, in the direction of the stars, and wondered if this truly was Poppy telling me she was here as I embarked on reading her final words to me.

I stood and peered out of the window. The sun had burst through the overcast gray sky, its blinding reflection shimmering on the water like a golden halo. The rain had stopped, and the distant snowcapped peaks were illuminated like they were under a spotlight, casting them into a brilliant white glow.

It was … surreal.

Feeling the heat on my face from the winter sun's rays, I crossed the room and retrieved the notebook from the suitcase. My hands trembled slightly as my fingers met the paper, but it didn't deter me from what I had to do.

I went downstairs and took my coat and a blanket from the hook. As always, I made my way to the rocky ledge that overlooked the lake. And before I sat down, I stopped and just stared at the sight before me.

I wasn't sure I'd ever seen anything more majestic than this view. Windermere's water was calming, the wind was cold, but the sun on my face brought a glint of something that I had missed for so long—hope.

Sitting down, I wrapped my coat around me and crossed my legs. Poppy's notebook lay in my lap. I lost track of time just admiring Poppy's handwritten script. For Savannah.

My eyes shimmered as tears built within them. I wiped them away quickly, not wanting anything to harm or mar the final piece of my sister.

I closed my eyes and breathed in deeply. Then, on a measured exhale, I opened my eyes and finally turned the page. And I began to read:

My Dearest Savannah,

If you are reading this, I am gone. I have returned home. And I am no longer in pain.

I am free.

One of the greatest joys of my life was being your older sister. I adore you, in every possible way. My quiet and reserved sister with the kindest heart and the warmest smile. My sister who is happiest curled up in front of the fire with a book, low music playing in the background. The one who loves her family—especially her sisters—with breathtaking fierceness.

But Savannah, you are the sister I know is struggling most with my passing. I know you, just as you knew me. We had no secrets between us. We were the best of friends. And I know that my leaving has affected you the most. I know that you will not speak of it. I know that you will keep your pain trapped deep inside your big heart, and that breaks MY heart. I have faced my fate. I embrace death and what comes next with my eyes wide open and joy in my soul.

But I ache at the thought of leaving you and Ida. I can scarcely think of the life that should have stretched before us. The memories that we would have made. The three of us against the world.

The Litchfield sisters … as close as close can be.

But I also know that life still awaits you. And I want you to embrace it. I want, with all my heart, for you to take on the future with as much love as you showed me. Take Ida under your wing and LIVE. Live for us all.

You are so smart, Savannah. All my life I have been in awe of just how clever you are. How you view the world with a quiet intensity. How you miss nothing, studying the whole world around you. But the best is how much you love those you allow into your heart.

I adore my family. I love my Rune with everything I am. Yet the way you loved me and Ida … Lord, it is one of the best memories I will take with me. And I know that even in heaven, I will still feel that love transcending through the clouds. Not even death could take you away from me. I want you to know that.

I know because of my illness you have doubted the world. I know you struggle with my fate and feel it's unfair. But I've never felt that way. Plenty of bad things happen to good people. But I believe that a better place awaits us. That my passing, for us as sisters, will only be a temporary thing. A few minutes in the vastness that is eternity. And that before we know it, I will have you back in my arms and in my heart, where you always have been.

But for you, that is a way off. And what plagues me most, as I write this to you, is that I fear you will stop living. You may be quiet, and observe in silence, but that doesn't mean that you don't FEEL on an unprecedented scale.

And Savannah, I cannot bear the thought that my passing has hurt you. I fear you will let it limit you, and that is not what I want for you. I want you to live. I want you to thrive, and I want you to change the world with how smart you are, how lovely you are. So, I decided to write this journal to you. I know I'll be watching over you. I could never stay away from you too long. And even though I'm not standing there before you, I want to help you move on.

I need you to know that I am good, Savannah. I am at peace. I'm no longer in pain. And I am happy. I already miss you. Just the thought of not walking beside you in life is enough to crack my stern resolve. But my faith makes me believe that I WILL be beside you. In spirit.

I need you to believe that you are never alone.

I'm going to fill this journal with messages for you. And I'm going to convince you just how special you are. I'm going to help you cope with my loss. And I'm going to love and support you through the pages, when I can't be there in life. Because, my beautiful sister, I love you more than life itself and will never be truly gone. You will always have me. I just need to convince you of that fact.

I love you, Savannah. Never forget that, because love will always carry you through.

Your devoted sister,

Poppy

A shuddering cry ripped from my throat, so loud that birds from the surrounding trees scattered into the sky. I ran my hand over the page as tears fell in deep rivers from my eyes. My shoulders shook with how badly I was crying, and I was defenseless in stopping this gut-wrenching sorrow from spilling out. Poppy … my Poppy … I shook my head and tipped my head up to the sky. I wanted to believe she was watching me. I wanted to believe she was there for me, walking beside me like she'd said, but—

The sound of a branch snapping behind me made me whip my head around. Cael stepped out of the tree line and held out his hand. "Sav—" he tried to say. His permanent scowl was gone and worry etched into his handsome face, but the gutting sadness, the tears and the cavern of loss this letter had buried inside of me, turned into anger, so swift and quick that it left me out of control.

Closing the journal, I jumped to my feet, ignoring my screaming muscles and snapped, "What are you doing here?" Cael held up his hands, trying to show he meant no harm. But it didn't matter. I felt wired with fury. The ache of loss was so potent it was like fuel to an already roaring fire. "Why did you sneak up on me? Were you watching me?" My voice was rising higher and higher and I couldn't control it.

Cael didn't move, like I was a horse that could be easily spooked. "I was out walking, and I heard you. You seemed upset. I wanted to make sure you were okay." His voice was gentler than I'd ever heard it, reassuring, but it ricocheted off me like Teflon.

"I DON'T NEED YOU!" I screamed, my loud outburst echoing around the quiet lake. "I don't need this place!" I said, gesturing to the hostel and the surrounding peaks. Then like someone had pulled out a plug, I felt the raging anger inside of me begin to drain away, taking all my fight and strength with me in mere seconds. My shoulders sagged and rolled inward—utterly depleted.

"I just need her," I whispered. I covered my face with my hands, and I broke. I broke so badly I feared I would drop to the ground, but before I could, strong arms wrapped around me and helped me keep standing.

And I cried. I cried and cried against Cael's chest. I threaded my arms around his waist and just held on. It was so nice just to hold someone and not pretend for one more minute that I was okay. Nice to not get up each day and put on a mask that I was sick and tired of wearing.

"She died," I said, all my imprisoned sadness storming to the door to freedom. "My sister. My perfect older sister died . She died and left me here to exist in this world without her, and I can't … God, Cael, I just don't know how to live without her here. How do I ever feel whole again?" I buried my head into Cael's chest, wrapping my fists into his thick coat. He just held me tighter. Held me against him and kept me sheltered in his embrace.

I cried again until I felt dehydrated and worn. My chest was raw from exertion, but I still held on tightly to Cael, so tight that I wasn't sure I could ever let go.

Cael removed one of his hands from my back and began running it through my hair, soft and soothing. My breathing was hitched in the aftermath, my body flinching as it tried to piece itself together again after so thoroughly breaking apart.

I breathed in Cael's fresh scent. Let the smell of snow and sea salt infuse my body. I focused on trying to keep breathing, but I felt my heart kick into an arrhythmic sprint, the familiar panic that attacked me daily rising to the surface.

Cael's hand stopped on my hair, and he slowly leaned me backward. He read my face with his careful, moon-shimmer eyes and instructed, "Breathe in for eight, Peaches." I stared into his eyes and did exactly what he said. I didn't have any fight left within me to resist. He breathed with me, and I mirrored his actions.

"Now hold for four," he said and the hand that was on my hair dropped to run up and down my spine. Goose bumps followed in his wake, but the rhythm of his hand became my guide. Like Mia and Leo had taught us, I listened to the echo of my heartbeat, and I listened to it begin to slow. "Exhale, Sav," Cael said, and I did. I repeated the exercise a few more times. My panic slowly subsided, as did my sobs until only I remained. I was numb, but there was a new feeling within my soul. A glimmer of lightness that I couldn't recall feeling since before Poppy was diagnosed.

Cael's hands slid up my arms, running over my coat, until they cupped my face. Crackling embers ran down my spine, and I glanced up at his face. He was searching my eyes, every part of my face. Then he pressed his forehead to mine. No words were spoken, but that skin-on-skin contact brought kisses of warmth to my cold body.

"Are you okay?" he asked after several suspended seconds.

"I think so," I said. Then stopped myself from finishing that sentence. I was so sick of the placating. So, I shook my head, revealing my truth, feeling his soft hair kiss my cheek. "No," I finally confessed. "I'm not. I'm not okay. Not at all."

Cael didn't immediately say anything. Didn't comfort or offer me anything about him in return. It made me uneasy. Feeling too raw and exposed, I made a move to step away, embarrassed at being so vulnerable, when he rasped out, "I'm not okay either."

My gaze darted up and collided with his. His eyes glistened, and I got the sense that that was the first time Cael had admitted that to anyone … maybe even to himself. My arms were still wrapped into his coat, so I freed them and lifted one hand to place on his cheek too.

His skin was rough from the short stubble under my palm. I swallowed. I'd never touched a boy this closely before. Cael held his breath, but when my finger ghosted over his cheekbones and down his tattooed neck, he exhaled and closed his eyes. This moment was a respite. We were breathing the same air, and we were sharing our pent-up pain. Sharing our secrets in the safety of the cocoon we had created.

I could have stayed this way forever.

Then, a drop of rain hit my cheek, followed by another in quick succession. Remembering my journal, I broke from Cael and quickly grabbed hold of it. I brought it to my chest, just as the heavens opened and the rain began to pour. "This way," Cael said and grabbed hold of my arm. We didn't run toward the house; instead, we raced toward the shore and a roofed jetty that sat beside the rowboats.

I ran after Cael, and the surge of energy it took to bolt from the torrential shower made a heady, unexpected burst of laughter spill from my lips. Cael's hand gripped me tighter as the foreign sound sailed into the air and seemed to explode like a firework above us.

As we reached the jetty and ducked underneath the pitched roof, I leaned over and fought to find my breath. White puffs of smoke created a cloud around me, until my lungs calmed and my pulse slowed to a steady beat.

The rain pattered on the wooden roof, but inside the jetty was dry. I lifted my head and saw the lake spread before us, the pitched roof making a picture frame of the famous stretch of water. "Beautiful," I whispered, overcome by the sight. Ducks swam joyfully in the torrent, raindrops causing thousands of ripples to flutter over the lake's surface.

I tore my attention from the view and brought it to Cael, and my heart sank. Guilt quickly took me in its hold. "Cael," I said, hearing the shame in my own voice. He was staring at the view too. But his spine was straight, and his jaw was tight. I feared he'd shut down again. "I'm so sorry."

I didn't think he was going to answer me, or even acknowledge my apology, back to the distant Cael he'd been since we arrived. I wouldn't blame him. I had never spoken to anyone so badly in my entire life. He was only trying to help me, and I threw that act of care right back in his face.

I left my apology floating in the stagnant air around us, allowing the sound of the rain to fill the uncomfortable, awkward silence. Without taking his eyes off the lake, he said, "You sound beautiful when you laugh."

My sunken heart jumped back into my chest and began to pound at the unexpected utterance of those six words. Cael moved to the edge of the jetty, and sat down, letting the cold breeze kiss his face. It didn't go unnoticed that he had left a spot for me beside him, an unspoken invitation for me to sit down too.

Clutching my journal, I did just that.

"Cael—" I went to apologize again, when he said, "I'm sorry about your sister."

Just the mention of Poppy closed my throat. "Thank you," I rasped out. I wondered if he would push anymore. But he didn't. I traced Poppy's handwriting on the cover of the notebook. I could just picture her in her window seat in her bedroom writing this. Even with all that she had been fighting, she had still thought of me.

"She was called Poppy," I found myself sharing. I thought I'd be shocked that I'd spoken her name out loud. But I'd found that when it came to Cael, some deep part of me knew he was safe. Cael sighed and crossed his legs, resting his elbows on his knees. He was giving me the space and time I needed to speak.

I blinked away tears. "She had cancer." I held the journal to my chest. I tried to fool myself that it was like receiving a hug of support from my sister herself. "She died just under four years ago after a long and tiring battle."

Cael's head bowed, almost like he was in prayer. I cleared my throat of its tightness and said, "She was my rock. My ship's anchor, and I've been unmoored ever since."

Minutes passed in complete stillness. I stared at the snow on the distant peaks. I'd never seen snow fall. I'd hoped I would see it here, but the English winter had only graced us with gray skies and endless rain. The notebook slipped from my lap as I adjusted my legs and landed in front of Cael. I realized that the rain had begun to slow, and then a large cloud cleared, and the sun came back out to cast its golden rays all around us.

A familiar halo over the lake.

I went to reach for the notebook, but Cael was already holding it out for me. A slither of sunlight had escaped through the wooden panels in the jetty walls and was spotlighting Cael's outstretched hand … like Poppy was reaching out to him too.

I placed my hand on his and lowered it back to his knee. Cael frowned in confusion. "Poppy left this notebook for me," I explained. "Today was the first time in almost four years that I've been able to open it." His eyes widened. "I've only read the first page. That's what I had just read when you found me." Sympathy engulfed his face.

"Here," he rasped, and held out the notebook again, like it was made from glass, and he was afraid it would break in his hands. That sunbeam landed on his hand again. And I felt it. Felt Poppy guiding me to share this … to share my pain.

"Read it," I said, and Cael's face paled. He began to shake his head no. I placed my hand on his again and turned the cover to reveal Poppy's first entry to me. "Please," I said, then added, "It would be nice for someone here to know her too."

I saw stark fear in Cael's expression at my request. But whatever he saw in mine made him look down and begin to read. I closed my eyes, and tipped my head back, letting the cool breeze run through my rain-dampened hair. I let a small smile grace my lips when I smelled a familiar hint of snow and sea salt … then what appeared to be vanilla.

There was only one person I knew who smelled like that.

The feeling of a hand covering my own broke me from my peace. I opened my eyes and looked down at those hands, only for Cael to turn them over. He threaded his fingers through mine, grasping hard. He had placed the notebook down on the ground.

Butterfly wings fluttered in my chest. More so when I saw his free hand protectively covering Poppy's beautifully handwritten script. "He killed himself," Cael said, barely loud enough for my ears to detect. But I heard it. I heard it, and although it was an almost silent confession, it was as effective as a scream in a large cave, echoing off the walls and slicing through my heart.

Cael's grip tightened even more in mine.

"Cael—"

"My big brother. Cillian. He … I—" He shook his head, cutting off his shaking voice, unable to carry on. "I'm sorry, Sav. I can't—I can't talk—"

My soul ached at that news. My heart screamed in pain. I couldn't imagine that. I couldn't imagine losing Poppy or Ida in such a tragic way. I wouldn't be able to bear it. How did you ever move on from a loss like that?

Cael … No wonder he was so lost and alone.

I brought our joined hands to my lips and kissed the back of his hand. Kissed the opaque broken-heart tattoo that was etched into his skin in thick black ink. He couldn't finish what he was trying to say. Couldn't bring himself to say those words aloud.

"I'm sorry," I said in return, my words not capturing the level of sympathy I felt for him. Expelling any shyness into the open air, I inched closer to Cael and placed my head on his broad shoulder. His body was taut and tense as I did so. But then he exhaled a long, labored breath and laid his head against mine.

We sat, joined, watching in silence as the sunlight glittered off the lake. I had never had this. Had someone share in my pain and be so open about theirs with me. But my stomach fell when I thought of what he'd told me. His older brother had taken his life. That's why Cael was so angry. So broken inside. That's why—

"She loved you," Cael said, interrupting my racing mind. His minty breath dusted over my cheek. He moved his head a fraction, and his lips ghosted over my hair. I closed my eyes and let the feel of his intimate comfort embrace me. "She loved you so much."

"She did," I whispered, not wanting to pierce the fragile bubble of peace we had created. I opened my eyes and watched a bird of prey circle above one of the lake's many small islands. "I miss her more than I can say."

"I miss him too," Cael finally said, and I felt just how much that was by the way he melted into my side, like he was seeking any form of human contact, a safety net from a great fall that admission had caused. I wondered how long he had been walking alone, shunning any support from the world. I moved closer to him again, so close there wasn't even an inch of air between us.

Two broken pieces searching for a way to feel whole.

"She left you an entire notebook," Cael said. He paused, then quietly confided, "I was left seven rushed words on an old, discarded hockey game ticket."

My soul shattered for him. Poppy's passing had destroyed me. But I had answers as to why she had died. I was under no doubt that she adored me; she'd made sure to tell me often enough. I had gotten to say my goodbye, even if that goodbye had ultimately been my undoing.

Cael … He had been robbed of that vital moment.

I heard his breathing starting to hitch, and I was sure I felt a tear fall from his cheek and hit the side of my face. But I didn't want to disturb this moment. I knew it was poignant to him.

It was for me too.

Sitting in silence, we watched the winter sun begin to ebb and darkness cloak the top of the peaks, chasing down the hills and spreading out onto the lake before us. Stars tried to peek through the overcast sky, and the moon hid its glow behind thick unrelenting clouds.

I shivered, the lowering sun taking away any heat from the winter's day and plunging the night into bitter coldness. Cael must have noticed, because he turned his head, lips grazing my ear and said, "We'd better get inside."

I nodded but didn't move for a few moments, not wanting to break from this pleasant numbness we had slipped into. But when a gust of arctic wind found its way into the jetty, we had no choice.

Straightening, I reluctantly released Cael's hand and got to my feet. Cael followed suit, picked up Poppy's notebook then handed it back to me. I met his eyes then. The first time since we had sat down and spilled our mutual heartaches.

There was something new in his stare. Like he was seeing me differently. I certainly was him. Gone was the unapproachable boy from just outside of Boston. And in his place was Cael Woods, a broken boy who was mourning the tragic death of his big brother. Despite how different we were on the surface, underneath it all, we were kindred souls.

Cael slipped his hand through mine again, and the chill that had taken us under siege was fought back by a striking sword of warmth. Cael led the way from the jetty and toward the hostel. The frosty ground crisped underfoot. I looked up to the sky and the dark clouds that impeded the view of the stars.

I walked as lonely as a cloud … Wordsworth's poem came to my head. As we entered the hostel and separated reluctantly at the top of stairs to go to our respective rooms, I realized that maybe I wasn't as lonely as I believed I was.

And neither was he.

I couldn't help but recall how he'd been when I'd shouted at him. My fury … it hadn't offended him—it had called to him. In that moment, I'd been a living reflection of how he felt inside. I'd burned with grief like he'd burned.

He'd seen me, and in depths of my despair, I had understood him too. And he had calmed. He'd confided in me.

Cael … He was suffering so badly …

After I showered, I climbed into bed. Curiosity won out; I took hold of my cell phone and searched the internet for Cael's name. Hundreds and hundreds of hits appeared. The first picture shown was from a couple of years ago, and I couldn't believe my eyes. He was dressed in hockey gear. But he was free of tattoos, free of piercings … free of grief. His wide, infectious smile was breathtaking. But what made my chest tighten to the point of snapping was the person beside him, the one with his arm wrapped proudly around him.

Cillian.

I ran my finger over Cael's boyish, carefree face. Then I froze when I read the caption. The Future of Hockey. Harvard's star center, Cillian Woods, with younger brother Cael.

Harvard.

The next story made my heart fall further. Cael Woods heading for Harvard! The Woods Brothers go Crimson!

The article explained that Cillian had gone to Harvard. Cael had signed on to go too. Cael was a year older than me. Harvard … That was why he'd brought us in from the lake that day. I'd told him I was going too … but he'd clearly not gone. It didn't take a genius to understand why.

A sense of something bigger than me danced above my head. I wasn't one to believe in something unworldly, but I couldn't deny the serendipitous nature of our meeting. There was something about Cael Woods that had called to me from the moment I saw him. Drew me to him like a moth to a flame.

Made me want to protect him and help carry the weight of his broken heart.

With an aching soul, I turned off my cell phone, already feeling guilty about encroaching on his life this way. I shouldn't have done it. But I couldn't shed the image of his carefree smile from his face. Couldn't stop thinking of Cillian with his arm around Cael, smiling at his younger brother like the proudest sibling in the world. I couldn't help but wonder what had happened to him to believe that death was his only way out of whatever plagued him. I wondered if Cael even knew.

I brought the phone to my chest, like I could embrace young Cael through the screen. Hold him before his world was blown apart. My head was a tornado of thoughts, haphazardly lapping around one another. Poppy's face came to my mind. Right now, I would have talked to her. She would have known what to say.

Then I felt my hands itch with the need to tell her somehow. I placed my phone on the table beside me and picked up the journal we had been given by Mia and Leo. Opening the page, I did just that—I let myself confide in my big sister like I always had …

My Dearest Poppy, I began, and for once I didn't fight back the grief that I had been holding off for way too long. I read your first entry today. I blinked away tears but held strong. I miss you so much. Hearing from you after so long was like visiting heaven itself, only to be told I had been there too long, and it was time to go home. I thought of my day. Then thought of Cael and me on the jetty. I'm not doing well, Pops. I've been sent on a trip to help me cope with your loss. I didn't think it would help. I brought the bottom of the pen to my lips while I thought of what to say next, then began writing again. But I have met a boy. His name is Cael …

And I wrote to my sister. Wrote to her like no time had passed. Like she was simply in another place in the world, remote and unable to answer my calls. Alive and well and waiting for my letters to reach her.

And when I put down the pen, there was a new ease to my breathing. The weight I constantly carried on my sternum was a fraction lighter. Placing my head on the pillow, I closed my eyes and tried to chase sleep. But then Cael's face came into my head and my heart squeezed again as I replayed his confession. Cillian. His brother was named Cillian Woods. I wanted to make sure I never forgot it. He deserved to be remembered.

I thought about Cael's cracked voice, the kiss to my hair, his cheek against my head. And I ran my fingers over the hand that he had held so tightly while shedding his deepest trauma.

It still felt warm.