Everlasting Read Free Page B

before killing her cat Ella, Gregory had cut the tender pads on her paws. As a warning to Ivy, he had spread broken glass on her bathmat. It was like a recurring nightmare: Worse than the physical pain was the horror of feeling trapped in a sequence she knew would get much worse.
    Grimacing, Ivy freed a shard of glass with her fingers, then hopped to the bathroom, where she used tweezers to remove tinier pieces. Her foot burned from the lacerations and her breath quickened, but she was almost too stunned to cry. She bathed her foot with cool water. When she patted it dry, she winced, the glass still in her skin, then went back to work with the tweezers.
    After applying antibiotic and bandages, Ivy limped back to her bed and sank down on it. Her heart was filled with dread—as Gregory had known it would be. She imagined he had taken great pleasure in planning this.
    “Tristan!” Ivy called out, but he no longer had the power to hear her.
    Ivy tried to block the image of Beth breaking the glass and placing it in the front of the shoe, where it wouldn’t be discovered until Ivy slipped it on. She shook it lightly, then picked out a glittering thorn.
    She couldn’t wait till Will got over his anger with her. She would show him now. She had to get Will to listen and to help her fight back, before Gregory went too far, before it was too late for both Beth and her.

Four
    TRISTAN’S CLOTHES HAD DRIED FROM THE PREVIOUS night’s dip in Ruth Pond. Now the heat of late afternoon made him wish he could swim again, but he remained in a thickly wooded area, as far as possible from the hiking trails. Although hungry, he’d restrained himself when he stole food from campsites—a roll here, a piece of meat there—never taking enough for campers to notice and report, never enough for the police to see a suspicious trend in the park.
    He couldn’t see Ivy; the police would be watching, waiting for him to show up. He knew he should leave Cape Cod,but he couldn’t bear to put distance between them. Maybe it was better to see her one last time and let the police find him. But then there was Gregory: If captured by the police, Tristan would be leaving Ivy alone with Gregory. He had to stay here and stay hidden.
    In the last week, Tristan had begun to remember more of his life and the time immediately after it. He’d recalled the help of an angel named Lacey. Was she still around? When he’d met her, she had put off finding her mission for two years, allowing herself to be continually sidetracked by adventures and pranks. It would be three years now, and yet, having known her, he wouldn’t be surprised if she was still in this world.
    “Lacey,” he called out softly, tentatively. “Are you there? Can you hear me? Lacey, I need your help.”
    Leaves rustled. An insect hummed close to his ear. The dark green canopy of oak and pine nearly blocked out the sky. Tristan felt earthbound and isolated.
    “Well, look at you,” a familiar voice greeted him. “Goldilocks with a beard!”
    “Lacey!” Tristan grinned and tried to locate her voice. A tree branch about six feet above his head bore purple leaves. Tristan took a step back to gaze at the branch. The violet haze spun and dropped to the ground.
    “I wish I could touch you. I wish I could hug you,” Tristan said. “I’ve lost my angel powers. All I see is a purple mist.”
    To his amazement, a girl with long hair—tinged purple—wearing leggings and a tank top materialized, becoming as solid as the tree trunks around him. Tristan reached out, his hand touching and folding around a smaller hand with long purple nails. He pulled Lacey close and felt a warm body. “It’s great to see you.”
    She suddenly pulled away from him.
    “I missed you, Lacey.”
    She took another step back. “I guess I would have missed you, too, if I hadn’t been so busy.”
    “Yeah? Posting strange photos on the electronic billboard in Times Square? Terrorizing girls playing in a cemetery?