There’s much murmuring, much questioning, much suspicion, and since everyone already thinks Lotus is crazy, and since everyone equates me as the girlfriend of the one person they’ve been trained to hate, it’s pretty clear that my little speech was not nearly as wel received as I’d hoped.
But just as I’m sure I’ve only convinced them to embrace another one hundred and fifty years of what they’ve come to know and love—
the flower, the shooting star, and the tree step forward, step right out of the crowd, making their way to where I now stand. And I blink in astonishment when I realize it’s Misa, Marco, and Rafe.
They’re glowing.
Absolutely, positively glowing.
Their auras beaming bright, glistening in the most unmistakable way, just like they did upon leaving the tree.
They pick up right where I left off, talking excitedly, voices overlapping, explaining about the miraculous transformation they made the moment they tasted the fruit.
Tel ing the crowd what I already sensed to be true—al of that whooping and hol ering they engaged in just after having eaten the fruit wasn’t because they believed they’d ensured their physical immortality, but because they felt their soul’s immortality being restored.
Experienced the thril of their karma righting itself with the universe.
While they’re talking, Lotus looks at me, steeples her hands against her chest in a silent blessing, and goes about placing smal bits of fruit into little paper cups, ensuring there’s enough for everyone, before she plucks one for herself, looks at me, and says, “Please.
Come with me.”
I hesitate. Wanting to witness the moment when the immortals, convinced by what they’ve heard, al step forward as one, and choose their new path.
But Lotus just shakes her head and says, “You’ve done al you can. The rest is left to them.”
I glance over my shoulder, see the way the crowd moves closer to Misa, Marco, and Rafe, then I fol ow Lotus down the stairs and through the house, col ecting Ava, the twins, Jude, Stacia, Honor, Miles, Holt, even Sabine and Munoz along the way, wanting to take this final journey with those who’ve helped her to get to this point.
She leads us into the backyard, where she kicks off her shoes, closes her eyes, and sighs as she sinks her toes deep into the grass.
Then lifting her head, she glances at each of us, her gaze settling on me when she says, “You have released me. And while my gratitude knows no bounds, your trust in me has been at your own great, personal expense. For that I am sorry.”
She nods, bows ever so slightly, and I wait for her to say something more, to tel me not to worry, that it al gets better from here, but instead she brings the cup to her lips and ingests. Shuttering her eyes as her hands swiftly rise, her fingers uncurling, her palms flattening—the yard fal ing quiet as Lotus begins to glow the most beautiful golden color that can’t be ignored.
Her face radiant, beaming, her cane al but forgotten, abandoned by her side—a witness to something miraculous, something viewable only to her. And I can’t help but gasp when instead of the ash I’ve grown so used to seeing, two perfect lotus blossoms bloom forth from her palms.
She turns toward me, places one behind my ear and the other in my hand, gently closing my fingers around it as she says, “This one is for Damen. You must go to him now.”
I nod, eager to do just that, but also wanting to see this thing through.
Torn between leaving and staying when Jude leans toward me and says, “He’s here.”
I look at him, m
y heart leaping into my throat, thinking he’s referring to Damen, but soon realizing he meant someone else.
“Her husband. He’s come to escort her to the other side.” He motions toward the space beside Lotus, a space that appears empty to me.
I watch as Lotus steps forward, once, twice, before she simply disappears. Her body so old, so worn, its immortality so suddenly reversed, it could no longer withstand the gravity of the earth plane. And yet, she got exactly what she wanted, what she sought al this time. Leaving nothing more than a glittering pile of gold dust behind.
Everyone remains quiet, reluctant to mar it with words.
Everyone but Stacia, who says, “O- kay … now that that’s done, can someone please tel me where to find that super-hot guy who’s dressed as a gladiator?”
Miles and Holt burst out laughing and lead her into the house, while Ava and the twins hang back with Sabine and Munoz, going over the details about the upcoming wedding, as Romy and Rayne beg to be bridesmaids.
Then Honor looks back and forth between Jude and me and says, “Okay, here’s the deal: I’m taking my Pocahontas-costumed self back inside so that you two can settle whatever it is you need to get settled. Seriously, have your little powwow, get it al out of your system, and then Jude, when you’re ready, when you’re ready to put your ful attention on me, and only me, wel , you know where to find me.”
I start to reach toward her, start to say that there’s nothing to settle, nothing to get out of our systems, that we’ve been through it al , that there’s no more to be said. But she turns, shoots me a look that shows she means business, so I let her go, turning my focus to Jude.