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“The day you slipped away.” Her answer is for the prompt, but it’s directed at me.

It’s irrelevant at this point that the sadistic powers that be are pleased with her answer. Neither of us could care less that the door we’ve been waiting for appears. We stand still, not willing to move.

“I didn’t mean to stand you up that night of the harvest dance.”

“And our birthday.” The invisible knife digs into me deeper with her reminder.

My gaze falls to her lip quivering, and I’ve never wanted to scoop her into my arms like I do right now. She’s hurting because of me. It’s all my fault. I tried to do something out of desperation, and look at what I did. I hurt her.

“Oh, come on. Admit it. Getting sucked in here was way more fun than having to wear an uncomfortable suit and a corsage, anyway.” It comes out as a joke, but she doesn’t look like she’s joking. Not when the quivering of her lip hasn’t ceased and her eyes become so watery she has to turn her back to me to wipe the tears slipping down her cheeks away. “Besides, it was probably for the best, the pink tulle dress I wore that night was ridiculous.”

“Pink, huh?”

“Yes,” she whispers.

“I’ve always loved how pink looks on you.” My heart skips a beat as I stare at the pink streaks of hair framing her face.

“I know.” Her lips stop their quivering long enough to give me a half smile, but it’s not enough to stop another tear from rolling down her cheek.

Words have never been a strength of mine. My thoughts often feel scattered and my ability to string together words are jumbled at best. Now is no different. But I can’t let that be the case. I have to do something. I can’t let her cry and not comfort her.

As I close the space between us, I try to tell her what I’ve been forced to keep to myself.

My lips move, but the words don’t come out.

I try again. Same thing.

“What the fuck is going on?” I blurt. Okay, cool, my vocal cords are working. Why can’t I say it?

Just then a voice, eerily similar to the one who spoke through the computer, sounds in my head.

“Once the transfer is complete, your wish will be granted and your soul and truth ours to keep.”

Lia is now full-on crying and I know the only thing I can do is wrap her in my arms.

Her tears wet my shirt as she sobs into my chest.

It’s my fault and here I am unable to comfort her like she deserves.

“We should get going,” she says, voice muffled.

“We can in a minute.”

Her head lifts, teary eyes meeting mine. “I thought we had to move on. Isn’t that the whole point, to get me out of here?”

“Don’t say it like that.” I reach my hand to her chin, capturing a stray tear in the process. “If I could, I would keep you here always. But I want you safe. Living in the past isn’t safe or healthy.”

“Yeah, well, neither is living in the present. At least here I can pretend it’s the good ol’ days. I can’t fuck up here like I do every day back…home? In the future? Or present? I don’t really know what to call it.”

Her tears dry and I use it as an opportunity to angle her chin up to look me directly in the eyes. “You really don’t get it, do you? You really don’t understand how amazing you are.”

“You’re just saying that because I’m Lacey’s friend.”

“Stop that. You are my friend too.” She stares blankly, unconvinced. “Besides, you were mine first.”

You were and are more than a friend.

If I wasn’t cursed to keep the truth bottled in, I’d tell you.