"Are you alright?" Xander asks again. His heart races beneath my palm.

It takes a moment before I realize he's waiting for an answer. In one sudden movement, I push away from his chest and teeter back on my shins. "I'm fine."

But I don't sound fine. My voice is shaking, the words raspy and weak.

"We haven't met yet. I'm Xander Lin." He rolls to his butt and bends his knees, his arms hooking around the caps. "What the hell were you trying to do?"

"I was—" I stop. What was I trying to do? "I just wanted to see the bottom."

"And get yourself killed?"

"No!" I can feel a scowl take over my face. "I wanted to look over the edge. Is that so wrong?"

"Do I really need to answer that?" His forehead puckers as he studies me. "You came all the way up here just to look over the edge?"

"Maybe. Why are you up here?" I demand.

"I followed you."

Something inside me tenses. "Why would you do that?"

"I saw you snooping around and wanted to make sure you were okay." His eyes darken, like he's too tired to be here. Too tired to deal with the unstable likes of me. Yet, here he is. "Did you find what you were looking for?"

An ill-humored laugh slips past my lips as I turn back to the ocean. "You can say that."

Drowning is said to be one of the more pleasant ways to go. When your lungs fill with water, euphoria takes over, bathing the subconscious in peace and light. But Ava didn't drown. She couldn't have made it to the water without hitting the rocks first. For her, there was no peace or light at the end—only fear and pain.

"My sister died here. I needed to see where it happened," I hear myself say. The words are out of my mouth before I even know they're coming.

"I'm sorry," he says. His voice is thick with an emotion I can't place. "Is that why you were screaming?"

He heard me. Of course, he heard me.

Once again, fury blazes through me like a wildfire, and a smoldering heat flashes across my cheeks.

My eyes flick back to his. "I was screaming because the world is a cruel and inhumane place. And everyone you love, no matter how crucial they are to your existence, eventually lets you down."

He nods. It's slow at first, and then more persistent. "I get it. First, we're brought into this life without our consent. Then we're forced to suffer through its trials and tribulations. And when it's finally done torturing us, we die without anyone asking for our permission."

"Right?" A sting takes over my eyes. I glance up at the sky and blink away tears. "It's all one big fucking shit show."

We don't say anything for a few minutes. We just sit in the grass, an uneasy silence spanning between us, my sniffles lost to the wind.

"You know what helps?" he finally asks.

Having a drink? I want to say. But don't.

"Changing our perception. We can't control what happens, but we can control how we react. It's like when my mom died." Xander shifts his weight and looks away. "My earliest memories are of her tucking me into bed. Every night, she'd sing the same song, so much so, that I knew all the words before I could even talk. After she was gone, the only thing I could focus on was 'why did this happen to me'? It made the grief worse."

I watch as the breeze ruffles the dark waves around his face. For sharing such a personal story, Xander is surprisingly serene. It triggers my curiosity. "So, what did you do?"

He swallows, the movement stirring beneath his golden skin. "I decided there must be a bigger purpose behind what happened. I still don't know what it is—maybe I never will—but I know her life couldn't have been in vain."

Xander turns back to me and then stands, brushes the dirt from his joggers, and extends his hand. His eyes hold mine as I slowly reach for him.

Once I'm on my feet, the gravity of what just happened slams into me.

I could have fallen. No, I could have died. Xander saved my life. How do you repay someone for that?

"Thank you for...helping me," I tell him. My stomach clenches. I place a hand on my belly and force myself to continue. "My name's Mia Greenley."

A slow smile takes over his lips, and a dimple appears in his left cheek. For some reason, this surprises me. But in a good way.

"It's nice to meet you," he says.

"It's nice to meet you, too."

Studying Xander now, up close, he doesn't seem like the dangerous bad boy Drew warned me of this afternoon. He's more reserved. Soulful. Stirring up emotions I haven't felt in a long time. Sympathy flows through me, thinking of that little boy whose mother used to tuck him into bed. Wondering who took over the tradition after she'd gone.

"Come on. I'll walk you back to the dorm."

My hand is still in his. Only now, it's shaking. Xander's eyes lift to mine, and his brows draw together in confusion.

I yank my fingers away and curl them inside my pocket. "It's fine. They do that sometimes."

I want to tell him they're getting better. That my hands aren't nearly as unsteady as they used to be. But the confession dies on my lips.

Some sins aren't meant to be revealed.

🔘

"What in the world happened to you?" Iris demands as I walk through the door. "I tried to call like a hundred times, but it kept going to voicemail."

Before I answer, I slip into the bathroom and lock myself in. When I catch sight of my reflection, I let out a gasp. My cheeks are flushed and my hair is a wreck, the brown strands falling from my ponytail and tangling in knots around my face. No wonder Iris is alarmed.

She pounds on the door. "Mia, what the fuck?"

On the sink, a bottle of mouthwash snags my attention.

There's alcohol in mouthwash. I saw an intervention show once where this alcoholic would drink it when he didn't have anything else in the house. It may have temporarily quenched his vice, but the toxins almost killed him.

But what if I only had a swallow—just enough to calm my shaking hands?

"Mia!"

Iris' voice pushes the thought from my mind. "I'm sorry, I turned my phone off. Just give me a sec, okay?"

I pull the elastic band from my hair, turn on the faucet, and splash my face with cold water. When I'm finished, I towel off and open the door.

Iris is waiting with her arms crossed, her toe tapping in quick successions against the floor. "Care to explain where you've been?"

"I told you. I went for a walk."

"Where to—hell?"

I force out a laugh. "No. I went to the cliffs."

Her entire face falls. "You were at the cliffs?" she says. "By yourself?"

Shrugging out of my hoodie, I glide past her and grab my pajamas from the chair. "As luck would have it, Xander Lim was there too," I say, pulling my T-shirt over my head.

I slip on my PJ top and unhook my bralette, sliding the straps through my sleeve—a trick Ava taught me when I got my first training bra. "If you want the shower it's all yours. I'll take one in the morning."

The change of subject doesn't work. "Why were you at the cliffs?"

I yank off my jeans and wiggle into my bottoms. And then sigh. "Why do you think, Iris?" I turn to face her. "My sister died there. I needed to see it, okay? It's something I had to do."

"You wanted to see where she jumped to her death?"

The air rushes from my lungs as though she punched me in the gut. "Ava didn't jump! She never would have done that. Not after—" I stop. Take a breath. "She just wouldn't have, okay? She was terrified of heights."

"So, you think it was an accident?"

I don't say anything.

"Wait a minute," Iris murmurs. "Are you suggesting someone did that to her?"

I shrug and turn away.

"Bloody hell." Her voice softens. "How did it go?"

"Not good." I grab a brush from my desk and pull it through my hair. "I almost fell."

"What?" Her eyes widen, her mouth forming a perfect O.

It's not funny, but I smile anyway and plop down on my bed. "Xander saved me."

"Are you alright?"

"I'm fine. I just feel like an idiot."

Iris sinks down next to me on the mattress. "Why didn't you say anything? I would have gone with you."

"I know you would have, but I wanted to be alone." I bump my knee into hers. "Besides, I wouldn't want that wind ruining your perfect curls."

She gives me a wry smile. "I'm glad you're okay. I was worried half to death. Don't do that to me again—my heart can't handle it."

And that's when I know I can trust her.

"Can I show you something?" Before Iris responds, I reach into my bag and pull out the two letters. I hand them over. "I found this in Ava's belongings. And this one was left under my pillow the day I moved in."

As she reads through the messages, a crease forms between her brows. "Who wrote these?"

"I was hoping you could tell me."

Iris shakes her head. "I have no idea, but I know someone who might."

A sense of relief soothes the tightness in my chest. "Who?"

"We'll start with Nadia Syed, Ava's old roommate."

"We?"

Her face lights up. "Yes, we. You think I'm going to let you do this on your own?"

From out of nowhere, the urge to hug her comes over me, but just before I give in, I stop myself. I can't even remember the last time I was embraced. Probably at Ava's funeral.

I nip at the inside of my cheek. "Do you think Nadia could have written the letters?"

Iris laughs. "I seriously doubt it."

Maybe Iris doubts it, but I'm not writing anyone off just yet. As far as I'm concerned, everyone's guilty until proven innocent. "Did Ava have any other close friends we can talk to?"

"Ava knew everyone, but she only hung out with a few people." Her eyes move to the ceiling as she thinks. "There's Nadia. Theo West. And Xander Lim."

Something sinks in my stomach. "Xander—are you sure?"

"Oh, yes," she says, her gaze reconnecting with mine. "They were thick as thieves, those two."

After everything I told him, Xander never once mentioned he was friends with my sister. In fact, he didn't even say he knew her. Why would he keep that from me?

"Can you promise me something?" Iris says, interrupting my thoughts.

I hesitate, then nod.

"Promise you'll never go to the cliffs again. Especially at night, and especially not by yourself."

"Why?"

Her expression darkens. "It's dangerous up there—as you experienced first hand. But there's also..." And then she stops.

"Iris." I lean closer. "What aren't you telling me?"

She shakes her head and shifts further away on the bed. "It's stupid, really. I shouldn't have brought it up."

"What?" I say, more insistently.

Iris bites her lip. "There's just a rumor going around. It has been ever since Ava died." She pauses, and I wonder if I'll have to choke the information out of her. But then her eyes drop to her lap. "After—the incident—people started to see something strange on the cliffs. A ball of light, moving through the trees. No one goes up there anymore."

"A light?" I frown. "So what?"

"Some people think—" She sucks in a breath, and lets it seep through her nose. "They think Ava haunts the cliffs at night."

"Haunts the cliffs?" I almost ask if she's serious, but I can tell by her expression she is. I swallow hard before asking my next question. "And what do you think?"

Iris looks me straight in the eye. "I've seen the light many times. I think it's Ava's ghost."