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shooting down the runway, as Kira began to dial
Luke’s number.
    It rang once before the plane lifted off the
ground.
    Twice before the plane soared even
higher.
    “Kir—” Luke’s voice began, but he was
interrupted by a beep and the line went dead.
    “Luke?” Kira said into the receiver. “Luke?
Luke!” Her voice was panicked. She pulled back to look at the
screen. No service. They were out of range, flying away from Luke
just as she had planned—leaving him behind and all Kira could think
was “done.”
     
     
     
    Chapter Three

    Kira felt like a zombie, following Tristan
as he led her through passport control and customs. She watched the
conveyor belt spin suitcases around baggage claim, but the metal
blades lost focus in her glazed over gaze.
    Tristan had spent the entire flight to
Atlanta reassuring her that in no time at all she could call Luke
and fix everything. When they landed, Kira tried calling Luke over
and over again, but each ring went straight to voicemail and she
couldn’t bring herself to leave messages. She didn’t know what to
say in only thirty seconds—there were no magic words she could
speak to make him understand.
    Tristan had spent the entire flight to
England reassuring her that Luke would eventually forgive her. When
they landed, Kira called him again but once more there was no
answer. As the realization that she had probably lost her best
friend finally hit, Kira shut down. Tristan saw the
transformation—saw the fall of her shoulders, the hunch of her
back, the downturn of her lips and the disappearing light in her
eyes. More so, he faintly heard her heart slow and felt the
normally churning heat in her body recede.
    So, he took her hand and led her out of the
airport into a foreign city, trying to find some way to bring her
back. He brought her to the Thames, the furiously churning river
that cut right through the heart of London. In an odd way, it
reminded Kira of the choppy waves that cut along the shore of Folly
Beach, the same ones that had calmed her the day Luke had told her
what she really was. Perhaps it was the memory of Luke helping her
through one of the hardest days of her life, but something about
the speeding water pricked Kira to life, giving her one final
idea.
    Stepping away from Tristan’s sturdy body and
the arms holding her upright, Kira collapsed onto a bench and
dialed Luke’s family, praying he had followed through on his plans
to fly to Sonnyville.
    “Hello?” A woman’s voice answered, light and
musical.
    “Mrs. Bowrey? It’s Kira. Is Luke there?”
    “Oh, one second,” Kira heard the scuffle of
a hand closing over the receiver. Luke was definitely there—the
only question was if he would admit it.
    “Hello,” a deep, hollow voice answered after
a minute. Kira barely recognized the hard sound—it was scratchy and
unforgiving.
    “Luke,” Kira sighed with relief. “I tried
calling. I swear, I called you a thousand times. The plane took off
and then you wouldn’t answer any of my calls. I’m so sorry. I’m so
so sorry, but—”
    “My phone broke,” was his curt reply.
    “Oh?” Kira sat up straighter, hoping this
would be easier than she thought.
    “I threw it at the wall.”
    “Oh,” Kira said while sinking back down in
her seat, totally unsure of herself. Did he throw it at a wall
before or after she’d tried calling him?
    “Luke—”
    “Kira—”
    They both quieted.
    “I did it to keep you safe,” Kira pleaded in
a voice barely above a whisper.
    “No, you left without me to keep me safe.
Abandoning me in the airport, leaving me with a note, lying to me
for more than a week—all of that was just… was just… just…”
    “Fear?” Kira supplied.
    “I was going to say cowardice,” he responded
and Kira winced at the word, but she couldn’t deny it.
    “You’re right. I was afraid to tell you the
truth. I was afraid of how you’d react and afraid I wouldn’t be
able to leave without you if you knew.”
    “I