We'll Never Be Apart Read Free Page A

and gray. A thick fog rolls in behind the steel mesh and it’s hard to see anything beyond the hospital grounds. “How come it’s always so foggy here?”
    The doc glances out the window. “It’s because we’re so close to a lake. We’re in a convergence zone. Does the fog disturb you?”
    Why does he have to answer every question with a question? I shrug a shoulder. “No, it doesn’t disturb me. I just think it’s weird, you know? If we can’t see anything but the fog, how do we know we exist beyond it?”
    He chuckles, and for once, his hand doesn’t move to scribble on the yellow notepad. “That’s very philosophical of you, Alice. Perhaps you should walk through it and see what comes out the other side.”
    I know what’s on the other side of that fog. It’s water, deep gray water that makes your bones shake and your lips turn blue. I know because Jason and I swam across it. He pulled me to shore and covered my shivering body with his.
    â€œAlice, are you listening?”
    â€œI’m sorry. What were you saying?”
    â€œI was asking you to tell me about the fire.” Doc taps the pen against the notepad.
    Maybe it’s an act of mercy, this lapse in my memory. Maybe my brain doesn’t want me to find out what happened. It’s rejecting the possibility that my sister, my own blood, could do this to me—to Jason. Too bad I don’t need my head to tell me what my heart already knows. “I don’t remember,” I say.
    Doc shuffles some papers around and brings my file to the top. He opens it. “I have the police report here from that night.” I stare at my left hand, the one without the burn. I study the bitten-down tips of my nails and the worn cuticles. Cellie used to tell me that the white parts underneath the nail were lies. When she thought I wasn’t telling the truth, she’d grab my hands, inspect my nail beds, and claim that the white part had spread. Then she’d accuse me of things. Of keeping secrets. Of wanting to hurt her. Of loving Jason more. “Was Celia with you that night?” Doc asks.
    â€œWhat does your report say?”
    He glances at the paperwork. “It says she was.”
    I blink and see an image of my twisted twin. The memory comes screaming back. She’s standing over Jason and me while the fire blazes around us, the look on her face a cross between pity and revulsion. I feel a million things in that moment. Bad things. Hateful things. All directed at my sister.
    Doc uncrosses his legs and leans forward, his nose brushing up against my personal bubble. I press myself back into the armchair. His breath smells like old coffee, bitter and stale. “Do you know why you’re here, Alice?”
    I shake my head. All I can think of is Cellie. Cellie and Jason. The vision shifts and there’s only smoke. I can’t see Jason but I can feel him. His hands touch my face and he whispers something to me, but the words don’t compute.
“Jason.”
    I don’t realize I’ve actually spoken his name out loud until I see the stern expression on Doc’s face soften. So far I’ve managed to hold off on asking Doc about Jason, but now, with this compassionate look he’s giving me, I feel my resolve unraveling.
    â€œAlice.” He says my name like it’s an apology. “I’m afraid Jason didn’t make it.”
    Something that feels like a jagged rock lodges in my throat. For a moment there’s nothing in the room but my ragged breathing. Jason. Dead. Gone. So final. I reach for the image of him again. I see him smiling that crooked grin of his, as if he had just hijacked the world and was going to take it for a ride. I see us, two people with the moon at our backs, running with our arms opened wide. In love. Foolish. And living on borrowed time. A sob breaks in my throat. Doc reaches for the tissues on his side table and