Chapter 4
April 28th, 1984
Albany, NY
She was in a hospital room.
On a normal day, Cass woke up like a kid on Christmas morning. She opened her eyes practically thrumming with energy, eager to leave the confines of her bedroom. Cass had a lot of living to do and sleep only kept her from it.
But today was different. Today, her eyelids felt heavy, her thoughts clouded. And the instant she fully pulled herself from that peaceful nothingness, the pain hit, making Cass wish she’d stayed in the dark.
Gradually, she became aware that she was lying on her side, facing the wall. There was a device clamped onto her finger, attached to a wire that draped over her hip. A door must’ve been open behind her, because a slant of light spilled over the bed. Cass’s head lolled, instinctively seeking more of it.
Before she could form a single thought, her eyes latched onto a shape. Something that didn’t belong. Cass’s heart stopped.
A man stood in the corner.
She took one look at him and knew he wasn’t a doctor or a nurse—his clothes were outdated, as if he’d stepped out of the pages of a novel. He wore suspenders over a button-up shirt, the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. It was too dim to see much of his face, but Cass knew he was staring at her. The blood in her veins quickened.
“Who are you?” she said. Her voice was a thin rasp. Only silence came from the shadows. In a burst of panic, Cass bent to turn on the lamp.
When she straightened, the corner was empty.
Cass scanned the room, but the only other person there was her dad. Silas Ryan had been sleeping in the chair beside the bed. Light pulled him to consciousness, and as he sat up, squinting, Cass watched him register the fact her eyes were open.
“Oh, honey. I’m so glad to see you awake,” her father breathed, leaning forward. The chair beneath him creaked. Silas cradled Cass’s hand in both of his, his grip like butterfly wings. As if he were afraid that she’d break if he held on any tighter. His sandy hair—the same color as Cal’s—was flat on one side, and his shirt was wrinkled. Cass didn’t think she’d ever seen her father so disheveled.
Her brow lowered. She was remembering everything now, but there were pieces missing between when she went into the water and how she wound up in this bed.
“What happened?” she asked. Her voice was stronger now.
Her dad hesitated. A moment later, Kathleen’s silhouette filled the doorway. Silas twisted to meet her gaze, and there was a stilted pause. Something passed between them. When Cass’s father turned back around, he looked like he’d aged overnight.
“You were found next to the Troy-Menands Bridge,” he said.
“Where’s Cal?” Cass asked abruptly. She had a thousand more questions, but right now, that was the only one she cared about. She glanced at both her parents and fought a burst of impatience. Impatience and… something else.
Their expressions made Cass’s blood go cold. She tried to demand that they answer her, but her throat had stopped working.
Once again, her dad was the one to speak. His voice was strange as he said, “Cal jumped in the river after you, honey.”
“Okay, so is he in another room, then? On this floor? I want to see him. Right now.” Neither of them moved. Panic spiked in Cass’s chest, and her voice rose. “Take me to see him right fucking now, Dad.”
She stared at Silas, waiting, her body heaving, but her father just gazed back at her. It was like he’d aged again, just in that handful of seconds. Cass kept waiting. At last he said, his voice thick and halting, “Cal… Cal didn’t make it, sweetheart.”
The room shrunk.
“No,” Cass said. She shook her head. Once, twice, her eyes never breaking from her parents. “No, no, no. You’re lying. You’re fucking lying to me. Say it. Say you’re a fucking liar.”
Her mom was crying now, holding a hand over her mouth. Cass stared at her blankly. It felt like her brain was misfiring. She couldn’t exist in a world without Cal. It didn’t work, it wasn’t possible. Even when she hated him, even when he made her want to scream, Cal was part of her. She was one half, and he was the other, and the two of them made a whole. It didn’t work.
Someone was making a terrible sound, like they were choking. Gagging. Cass realized she was the one doing it. As if her body were rejecting the very idea of Cal’s absence. She couldn’t breathe. It was like she was back in that icy water, surrounded by darkness on every side, hands grabbing at her.
“I need Cal,” she gasped, bending over. “Please, please, I need Cal.”
A hand grasped hers, long fingers engulfing Cass’s small ones. Distantly, she knew it was her dad. But it wasn’t the hand she wanted. “He’s gone, sweetheart,” her father’s teary voice said.
She tried to yank away. Tried to say that he was wrong. Pressure was building in Cass’s lungs and her ears were ringing. The sound got higher and higher.
Then… she exploded.
“No!” Cass screamed, holding her head, pain searing her insides. “No!”
Then an achingly familiar voice said, right next to her ear, “Cass. Cass, I’m here.”
She didn’t question whether she’d really heard her brother or not—Cass knew it was him, in her gut, or deep within whatever souls were made of. She wrenched out of her father’s arms, gasping, and threw herself at Cal. He caught her effortlessly, but Cass was halfway off the bed, so he lowered them to the floor. He stretched out his legs across the tiles and held Cass like they were children again.
She clutched at him, breathing in his scent. Cass knew it better than any other scent in the world. Cal. Her voice was small as she said, “Don’t you ever do that to me again.”
He didn’t respond, or maybe Cass just didn’t hear him. Everything would be okay, she thought. Now that she knew her brother was fine, she could figure out the rest. After tonight, she’d turn things around—for real this time. From now on, Cass would suppress that side of her. The side of her that made her do such reckless, reckless things.
Things that made her parents worry and made her end up on dark bridges in the middle of the night.
As the fog of anguish around Cass retreated, she saw her parents. Some of her relief dimmed.
Why were they staring at her like that?
Cal answered the question as if she’d spoken out loud. “They can’t see me, Cassie. No one can.”
Cass looked at her brother, her mind blank with confusion. He didn’t say anything else. She knew Cal’s silences. The weight of them, their secret meanings. This one meant that she already knew the answer, and he was just waiting for her to realize it.
At that moment, their father’s words echoed through her. Cal didn’t make it.
And Cass understood. In the slow way anyone understood when they were recognizing the darkest, world-bending truth.
Cass blinked. She blinked again, then again. Cal’s face still blurred.
The words spilled out of her like something had ruptured open. “Don’t ever fucking leave me. Promise me. Please. Promise me, Cal.”
One of her parents made a pained sound. Cass knew she wasn’t making sense, because he was dead, oh, God, Cal was dead—but she didn’t care. Whatever this was, whether she’d lost her mind or Cal was a ghost, it was better than losing the best part of herself. Cass gripped his jacket fiercely, resting her ear against it. Every inch of her was taut, and she didn’t breathe as she waited for her brother’s response. She needed to hear him say it.
“I’ll never leave you,” Cal whispered.
Cass let out a long breath, and the tension seeped from her entire body. She could hear her mother sobbing, and she was vaguely aware that her father had left the room, probably to get a nurse. To them, she was just kneeling on the floor, talking to empty air. But it didn’t matter. Nothing else did.
She squeezed her eyes shut and pressed closer. There, Cass thought. She’d found Cal’s heartbeat, steady and true, just like always.
Within minutes, or maybe it was seconds, Cass fell asleep to it—her eyes fluttered shut and her breathing deepened. She didn’t dream, or go back to that terrifying darkness at the bottom of the river. She just slept.
All the while, Cal Ryan sat with his back against the wall, staring at the wall opposite them. He listened to his mother’s broken sobs, and the low murmur of his dad’s voice as he tried to comfort her.
Cass slept so deeply that she never saw the expression on her brother’s face or witnessed the silent tears that streaked down his face.