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“I got the pieces for you, but it’s like trying to fit a puzzle together.”

I close my eyes. “Don’t worry about it. You can throw it away.”

Rhett frowns. “But it’s special.”

“It’s okay. Sometimes you have to be willing to let things go.”

His gaze falls away from mine when I say that, and my chest squeezes. What’s going on? Why is there all this simmering tension rolling off him?

I grab the bag that Rhett brought in and drop it onto the bed to unpack it, but my phone dings. My parents were going to let me know when they were on the road, so I open the phone to see if it’s them.

It’s not.

It’s Mina.

Hello my magical pairs! Cristina is now back from the hospital. We all wish you well, Cristina, and we’re so happy you’re on the mend.

We’ve settled on a date for the makeup challenge. Only two challenges left! Don’t worry, even if you’re trailing in points, there’s still a chance for you to win, so don’t lose heart!

The challenge will be next week, at the same day and time as the one we canceled. We’ll see you in the tent then, and come with your game face on!

I smirk. “What do you think that means? ‘Come with your game face on’? Do you think we’ll be playing Pictionary or New Phone, Who Dis?”

Rhett has his phone open, too. He drops it to his side and shakes his head. “I don’t know.”

I can’t take it any longer—his lack of interest, his distance. “What’s going on, Rhett? Ever since yesterday, you’ve been acting weird.”

His eyes widen in alarm. “I’m sorry, I haven’t meant to—”

“Is this about my attack?”

He swallows and his Adam’s apple dips. “It’s more than that, I think.”

“What do you mean, ‘more than that’?”

“It was . . . I . . .” He curls one hand into a fist and knocks it on the TV stand. “Cristina, I almost didn’t give you to the EMTs so they could work on you.”

My body suddenly becomes very cold. “What are you talking about?”

Rhett squeezes his eyes shut for a moment and then opens them. “When you were struggling to breathe, yes, for a minute I was back there with Sarah. And when the paramedics asked me to let them have you . . . Cristina, I froze. Froze. I wasn’t here in Mystic Meadows and you weren’t you.”

He plows his hand through his hair. “I haven’t been in a medical emergency since my sister, and it”—his voice trembles—“was too much. I can’t be the person who keeps you from being safe.”

Too much?

No. I refuse to do this. We are soulmates. That’s supposed to mean something.

“Rhett, that was a trauma response. Right? That’s what it’s called? You were experiencing trauma. So you get some help. You talk to somebody. You get better.”

“I’ve talked to someone before.”

“Talk to someone else!”

He looks at me, shakes his head. The sorrow in his eyes says everything.

“No, no—you don’t get to decide my life for me.”

“I’m doing what’s best.”