the walls between us.

The word seared me, like a brand upon my soul. I scuttled backward, shielding myself from the coming attack. I let out a gush of air when I saw that Trevor wasn't headed toward me, but to the Swing. c.r.a.p. The truth was that I didn't want him to Delve, either. I was afraid of seeing inside the mind of someone so completely hostile.

I fiddled with my ponytail as Trevor tinkered with the Swing. Talk about someone who had to have things a certain way. Ironically, I found myself feeling impatient. It was time to suck it up and let this Delve happen. Maybe it would be better to let someone else be in the hot seat.

I headed to my chair with Oliver right behind me. To be honest, Trevor wasn't the only one making me jumpy. It just wasn't natural to be so calm about having your life mowed down. No one was that perfect, were they?

"Umm, which spot is your s.p.a.ce?" I asked, taking a step back from Oliver.

He grinned. "Right here, next to yours." He pointed to a gigantic tree. Well, what would have been a gigantic tree if you could see all of it. The top half of the tree emerged straight from the floor as if the rest of it continued downward into the room below. A multicolored hammock was suspended from a st.u.r.dy branch, on which sat a tree house that any kid would die for. Or any guy who was a kid at heart. As someone who'd always longed for a leafy hideaway but also got squeamish about heights if they weren't safely enclosed, I could appreciate the advantages of such a layout. Oliver bounded up the ladder into his branches, then turned and held out a hand for me. I was tempted but shook my head. For some reason I couldn't follow him while feeling Trevor bore holes into my back. I kept my back to Trevor, deliberately postponing my need to turn around and face him.

My creative s.p.a.ce was nestled in the shade of Oliver's tree. Behind me was a gla.s.s wall, overlooking the far end of the lake. Across from me the First and Second Timer senior citizens were arranged around a bingo table. Just down from them were three middle-aged businessmen in suits. They held disposable coffee cups in their hands, paced the floor, and gesticulated wildly while they talked. I figured the odds were pretty good that at least one of them would be coming back as a Third Timer. A few women were comfortably ensconced in a variety of chairs and love seats, nestled up against a stone fireplace. They seemed relaxed, as only First and Second Timers can.

Stepping into my s.p.a.ce, I flopped down on my plush purple armchair with matching ottoman. It wasn't the fluffy couch that Julia and I had always shared, but I was flying alone now. Might as well get used to it.

Unable to avoid it anymore, I glanced up to meet Trevor's gaze. There was clearly a challenge there. I gulped, still marked and tender from his earlier attack. I could sense Oliver above me, moving around like he might come back down from his tree, but then Mel hooted and jumped up, no longer rooting through the epic pile of stuff on her desk. "I found it!" She waved her notebook over her head, looking like the winner in capture the flag.

I scrutinized Mel's organizationally challenged creative s.p.a.ce. Her area reminded me of an eagle's nest, an aerie. It was bigger every time I visited the Obmil. Two eagles begin by building a nest that meets their basic needs. Every year they add onto their place of residence, and the pile of sticks and fluff that they started with becomes a home of epic proportions.

It was rumored that Mel had originally started with one extremely heavy oak desk. She'd added on quite a bit since. Eagles have been known to work on a nest for their lifespan of thirty years, with some nests reaching up to two or three tons. I wondered how long Mel had been building her nest here at the Obmil.

"Trevor, you ready to go?" Mel interrupted my runaway thoughts about her domain. Trevor hopped back up, giving the Swing a kick with his boot before sitting back down and slipping on his headset. The Swing reminded me of a suspended recliner. It sort of resembled a float you might see in a swimming pool. When you climb aboard, it works like a giant air hockey game. You never really touched the recliner, because a powerful layer of air suspends you above it. If that wasn't enough to place you in a state of hypnotic relaxation, the swing also gently rocks back and forth. If I weren't so afraid of what would happen in the chair, I'd be dying to lie down and relax.

All of the other twenty plus people in the room already had on their headsets, which look like the offspring of earm.u.f.fs and a sleep mask. No one needs them to observe the Delved memories of another soul, but they block out distractions, making the process quicker and easier for everyone. I pulled mine on, eager to block out the sight of Trevor's dark scowl.

"Trevor?" Mel repeated.

He grunted some kind of affirmation of readiness. Despite the tensions of the day, I could feel myself begin to relax as we slipped quietly into his past.

a a a The summer rain was warm, but it fell with an unrelenting intensity. As Trevor drew closer to the memory, I could see waves of people standing under a flock of black umbrellas. It reminded me of an endless sea of raven wings.

Everyone was staring at something, and as Trevor drew closer to his memory, I realized it was a coffin, encrusted with flowers. Next to the coffin was a crumpled-up figure, kneeling in the mud, bareheaded and out of the reach of the umbrellas' protection.

At that moment, the perspective changed. All I could see was the mud and the rain pelting the petals of the flowers. I was seeing through Trevor's eyes. He was the figure on the ground.

I sucked in my breath. In my past visits to the Obmil, I'd always felt like a pure observer when watching someone else Delve. Julia and I often joked about "going to the movies." This was a different experience. I wasn't privy to Trevor's thoughts or feelings, but I couldn't escape the weight of the water pounding on my head, the chill that seemed to penetrate deep into my heart. I felt closer to this memory than I should feel in someone else's Delve. If this is what it felt like, simply touching the surface of Trevor's intense emotions, I was grateful that I didn't have to handle it from his perspective.

Trevor's gaze shifted to his hands and I could see his fingers clutching a clump of gra.s.s whose roots were torn from the mud. His fist was crushing the fragile shoots so tightly that his knuckles were white. Under his breath I could hear him chanting, "Wrong. Wrong. Wrong."

Trevor lifted his eyes away from the muddy streams traveling between his fingers and settled on a heart made of white roses. A deep blue ribbon lay draped across the heart and it was scripted with the word BROTHER. I tried frantically to look around, searching for more information. It was hopeless. I could see only what Trevor chose to focus on. He stared endlessly at that one word, and then as if he had mustered up the courage, he focused on a bigger heart of roses. It read OUR BELOVED SON, OLIVER.

8.

silhouettes.

I felt hollow, like a gourd. As I trembled, the dried-up, shriveled seeds of who I thought I was danced around in all my empty s.p.a.ces.

Trevor shot up out of the swing, ripping off his headset, flying through the air. I wanted to cringe as he came at me like a bird of prey, talons ready to rip me to shreds, but that was a luxury my guilt didn't allow. I stood there needing his absolution but ready to accept punishment. It was only fair.

Right before he would have found his mark, a Plexiglas wall sprung up between us. I flinched as he slammed into it and flew backward onto his back on the floor. As he shook off the disorientation of the impact, all I could picture were the black avian silhouettes that are used to keep birds from hitting windows and gla.s.s part.i.tions. Hysterical laughter bubbled up in my throat as I pictured black shadows of Trevor placed on the gla.s.s. Would Trevor silhouettes have obnoxious sayings across the fronts of their T-shirts?

"Son of aa"" Trevor thundered. He didn't finish his sentence. Instead his leg shot out and his boot made contact with the Plexiglas. A web of cracks radiated from the point of impact.

Mel was now by his side, trying to help him up off the floor. He pushed her away.

"Relax. Calm down. I'm sorry, Trevor. I didn't mean for you to hit that hard. It was all I could come up with before you did something you'd regret." I couldn't tell if Mel was trying to hug or restrain him.

"Regret?" Trevor shoved against Mel with his shoulder. "I regret you saving Elliot. Now we know for sure where your loyalty lies," he said with a sneer. "It isn't like I could kill her anyway. I can't do to her what she did to my little brother." He spit out the words as if he had battery acid on his tongue.

"You may not believe this, Trevor, but I did what I did for Elliot and you. I care about you, too. I've been around here long enough to know that things are never as simple as they first appear."

"You think what she did was simple?" His voice was layered in icy darkness.

"No, Trevor. You'd be surprised how utterly complex I know things to be." She gave a tired little sigh and brushed a tangle of hair off her face.

"This is the first big memory you've acquired by Delving; it won't be your last. Remember, this is about you, not Elliot." She reached for him, but he shrugged her off. "We've now established that you, Elliot, and Oliver are linked. While I respect your initial emotions, I'm hoping you can see that this is an opportunity to heal and growa"together."

"Little brother . . ." The remembrance was barely audible. Trevor whipped his head around, searching frantically, and then locked on to Oliver. Moving away from me, he reached his hand out. "Ollie?" The uncertainty in his face was in stark contrast to his previous waves of hostility, but it was oddly as intense.

Mel eliminated the Plexiglas wall protecting me, but I stayed where I was, fascinated by the electric sparks of emotion that seemed to bounce back and forth between the two brothers. Suddenly, without warning, Oliver strode past Trevor and firmly planted himself shoulder to shoulder with me. My ears heard Trevor's guttural moan, but the rawness of it registered deeper, causing me to take a step backward. Swamped by a red-hot tide of guilt, I pulled Oliver toward me, burying my face against his shoulder.

I whispered into his shirt, "Oliver? He's your brother." I had to see his face. "You're here because of me. Trevor didn't do anything."

This time there was no Yoda wisdom. He bit his lip, confusion darting across his face before it returned to its usual level of boisterous confidence. "Everybody does something, Elliot. I'm here because I made you a promise."

"You made me a promise? What does that mean?" I wanted to sneak a peek at Trevor, to see his reaction, but I was afraid. It felt twisted to still have Oliver's attention and loyalty.

Oliver shrugged. "I'm not a Third Timer like you and Trevor. I'm a Pa.s.senger. The only thing I remember is that I came here to help you, Elliot. I don't remember anything about him." He nodded in Trevor's direction. "From the vibes he's been giving off, I really can't imagine how we ended up being brothers."

I'd heard talk about Pa.s.sengers. The phenomenon is rumored to happen at the Basin, the Grand Central Station of the afterlife, where souls travel between one life and the next. When a soul decides to become a Pa.s.senger, he makes the choice to journey with another soul, a Tandem, into a third life, to be a catalyst for their growth. The idea is to have an impact on that persona"to make the Tandem look at things differently. The Pa.s.senger tries to help the Tandem avoid returning to the Obmil as a Third Timer. It's very altruistic. By being present in someone else's life, the Pa.s.senger is pa.s.sing up an opportunity to work toward a new growth plan of their own. I'd never actually run into a Pa.s.senger or a Tandem on my visits at the Obmil. Obviously, they weren't very common. I groaned. Knowing that I'd failed at my third life even with special a.s.sistance only made me feel like a bigger loser.

"You're my Pa.s.senger? Are you sure?" I asked.

"I'm sure. I came here to help you becausea"wella"I love you."

Oliver's words were a vacuum, sucking all the noise out of the room. My skin began to p.r.i.c.kle. I could feel everyone focused on me.

"How do you know that you don't have your own growth plan to figure out?" Mel asked.

Everyone else in the room leaned forward in unison. It surprised me that Mel seemed to have never met a Pa.s.senger either. She'd worked here a long time, but was clearly seeking information.

Oliver gave me one of his enchanting little smiles. "I know becausea"I just feel it." He crossed his arms, satisfied as a cat with a feather sticking out of its mouth.

"So we're supposed to bow to your expertise based on what? Warm and fuzzy feelings?" Trevor grunted for a finishing touch.

Oliver took a step in his direction. "Oh, and I suppose immature, violent tantrums are the true pathway to enlightenment." He let his gaze drift to where the Plexiglas had been.

"Boys, boys." Mel put up one palm in each direction. "This isn't helpinga""

"You love me?" I interrupted, then clasped my hand over my mouth. I hadn't meant to say that out loud.

"Of course he doesn't love you." Trevor sneered. "That whole soul mate, deep-connection sappiness is a bunch of c.r.a.p."

"Don't get all freaked out about the L word. I didn't say I was in love with her, just that I love her." Oliver stared pointedly at Trevor. "But maybe someone is protesting a little too aggressively. Maybe someone is a little bit"a"Oliver brought his thumb and finger togethera""jealous?"

"What?" Trevor and I shouted in unison.

"That's bulls.h.i.t," Trevor responded.

"You're an a.s.s," I shot off, staring at Trevor. Grrrra"he brought out the very worst in me, every time.

"Ladies and gentlemen!" Mel's voice was getting louder. Despite the noise, I heard the door open. I wondered if someone was fleeing the chaos.

"Sorry to interrupt, Mel." I knew that voice. Julia's head peeked into the room. "David wanted to knowa""

Like we needed this right now. Not that Oliver or Trevor had even noticed Julia's arrival.

"Hey, Elliot, are you okay? What's going on in here?"

I ignored her, irritated by her G.o.d-awful timing. She never managed to show up when I needed her. Now I had other things to worry about. Sparks were flying between the two brothers again.

"Guys, what's the matter?" Julia's soft little voice didn't even penetrate the thick wall of hostility between the brothers.

"Now is not a good time." I glared at her.

"I can see that. Despite what you think, I'm not an idiot." Julia's eyes welled up.

I looked from her to the guys. Both brothers were waving their arms and shouting. "Sorry, I'm just a little stressed right now." I shoved my hands in my pockets. "I had my first Delve and it wasa"it was unpleasant." That was putting it mildly.

Julia wrapped her fingers around my wrist, anchoring me to her. "You can tell me anything. . . ." Julia's voice was just a whisper, but it came in the only pocket of silence the room had seen since this fiasco started. Everyone stopped, but I couldn't be sure if it was because they were listening to Julia or it was because everything was beginning to fade and we were all dropping into a Delve . . .

a a a My first reaction to the Delve was that I felt small. Minuscule, in fact. I was in the Basin. I felt certain of it. There just aren't many rooms that are a cross between the Roman Coliseum and New York's Grand Central Station. I tried to turn my head and nothing happened. Wasn't my Delve. Trevor's again? Suddenly I was looking at myselfa"sort of. It was me, but back when I was Samantha. Whoever's Delve this was had fixated on me. Despite the fact that I was all grown up, I appeared nervous. I guess change had never been my thing.

"G.o.d, this place is huge. I don't remember being here last time, do you?" Emma's voice sounded just as nervous as I looked.

We were in Julia's Delve. I mean, she wasn't Julia yet, she was Emma, but I'd know that soul anywhere.

"It's epic," Samantha said.

Weird. Being in Julia's Delve meant that I was now watching myself. The Samantha version of me kept right on talking. "I think they don't want you remembering this part. Actually, I think we aren't supposed to remember Basin stuff at all. Isn't it supposed to be deep, emotional internalization or something?"

"Yeah, I heard something like that too," Emma said. Her gaze began to wander around the room. In the center of the marble floor was a placid pool. The water was so blue, it seemed as if the tile below it was a vibrant cerulean. Yet, that couldn't be the casea"there couldn't possibly be a shallow bottom because a head was slowly breaking the surface and a body was rising upward through the pool like it was on a platform elevator. This was the doorway into the Basin and the elegant gentleman with the silver hair and tailored vest who emerged was dry. His feet glided ankle deep through the water as he strolled to the edge of the pool. Then he righted his already straight bow tie and stepped out onto the floor.

"I don't think I'll ever get tired of watching that," I listened to Samantha say.

"Yeah, me either, but . . ." Emma's voice trailed off. Her eyes searched the outer walls of the round room. The whole place was ringed with archways, one floor stacked on top of the other. There was a pinp.r.i.c.k glow of light at the top, but I wasn't able to see the upper floors. Layer after layer of arches: these were the exits.

"Samantha?"

Emma was watching Samantha again, but Sam's focus was on the room. I wondered what she was thinking.

"Sam, there's kinda something that I wanted to talk to you about," Emma said, focusing on nothing but me.

"Yeah, sure," Samantha said. "What's up? Oh, wow. It looks like the guy who just came out of the water is set to leave already. That's kind of a quick turnover, don't you think?"

"I guess. But that's kind of what I wanted to ask you about. I need to talk to you before we step onto the ring."

"That's right, I forgot about the ring. Oh, check it outa"he's stepping on it now."

Emma finally turned her head away from Samantha and focused her attention on the dapper guy getting ready to jump streams. He placed his toes right up to the hairline break that separated the largest part of the room from the last ten feet of s.p.a.ce near the archways: the outer ring. No sooner did his toes make their intentions clear, than the outside loop began to glow. Dapper Guy crossed the line, stepping over onto the ring. That's when the wind picked up. A rush of air came from both above and below us at the same time. The two forces counterbalanced each other, making it feel as if we were in zero gravity, but gently incapacitated. We couldn't move. I mean, Emma could turn her head and move her arms, but it was like being in slow motion or encased in clear jelly. It was pleasant enough, but that wasn't its purpose. It was a safety measure designed to keep other souls off the ring when someone else was in transit. No last-minute, highly emotional, snap decisions could be made as you watched someone else pick a life choice. You were only supposed to move forward when you felt the pull.

"Seems like he figured out his growth plan pretty easily," Samantha said, as the ring rose like an elevator.

He traveled at least fifteen levels before the upward momentum stopped. It was replaced by a slow spin, like a geriatric roulette wheel.

"How long do you think it will take us to get to that level?" Samantha asked, nudging her chin upward.

"That's exactly what I wanted to talk to you about. Do you think that maybe this time around you could do me a favor?" Emma's voice wavered, shaking like a child who'd spent a little too long in the swimming pool.

"Hey, you okay?" Samantha directed her attention back on Emma. She very slowly moved her arm through the column of air and draped it around Emma's shoulder, pulling her in close and rubbing her hand up and down Emma's arma"mistaking the moment for a real chill instead of an emotional one. "Look! He's getting ready to go."

"I'm not colda"" Emma's voice was low, more like an mumble from under her breath, but while it may have been hard for Samantha to hear, being in Julia's Delve made her words distinct to everyone who was a witness in her head. "I want you to be my Pa.s.senger."

I felt topsy-turvy. It was like I'd taken a swig of sugared coffee, expecting it to be light and sweet, only to find out I'd grabbed the salt by mistake. She'd wanted me to be her Pa.s.senger? No, this couldn't have been how it happened . . . could it?

Oblivious, Samantha pointed up to Dapper Guy. My stomach coiled, tightening around this ugly piece of information.

The ring had stopped moving and Dapper Guy was standing in front of an archway glowing with light. "He's getting ready to jump streams," Samantha said. "I love this parta"particularly when it's someone else making the leap into the unknown."

Without glancing back, Dapper Guy walked into the light and disappeared. The ring dropped back down into place and the wind died away.

Emma took a deep breath, but it was Samantha who jumped in first. "Emma, I think I need your help. I meana"I think I need your help again. You were amazing in our last life and so supportive at the Obmil. I hate to think about the choices I might have made if you hadn't been nudging me in the right direction." Emma started to interject, but Samantha held up her hand. "Please, just listen. I know how much you've helped me and I think I was closea"really closea"to figuring out my growth plan. Don't make that face. You can't blame yourself, you did everything you could. I'm so lucky to have you, but now there's something else you can do that might really make a difference . . ." Emma leaned backward as if she was trying to get out of the trajectory of Samantha's words. I could feel myself leaning with her, wanting to get as far away from my own self-absorption as I could. There was nowhere to run.

"Emma, I know it's crazy to ask you this, and I haven't really thought it through, but there isn't time. This is my last chance. I don't want to be stuck back at the Obmil or worse. You know what they say, that some people don't get to come back." Samantha's voice dropped several octaves but her face was puppy-dog eager, like she was waiting for someone to throw her a tennis ball or scratch her behind the ears. Like she knew that the answer to something was just within reach. I could feel Emma shrinking in on herself and I wanted to switch the channel. I didn't want to watch this stupid show anymore.

"Ia"I don't know what toa"" Emma paused and took a deep breath.

Before Emma could continue, Samantha's head shot up and whipped to the side, like she was privy to the frequency of a dog whistle. Emma's attention tore off in the same direction, wondering what had caused the reaction.

I would have rubbed my eyes if I could have made Emma's arms do my bidding. Coming out of the water were two identical guys. Mid-forties, salt and pepper hair, the kind of guys you'd see walking the red carpet at the Oscars. Oh, this was double trouble. As they stepped out of the pool, they were shoulder b.u.mping each other and bantering back and forth. Mid-jab they froze, as if they'd heard the same dog whistle as Samantha. Emma rubbed her eyes after all, but it didn't make my double vision disappear. The twins were headed our way and I could feel my own displaced heart racing faster as they drew closer. They stopped directly in front of Sam, watching her like she was the sun, the moon, and the starsa"all rolled up into one little universe. Both of their hands reached out to touch her at the very same moment. All I could think was that they had long fingers, nimble like a pianist and thena"BOOM! The moment they made contact with Samantha, my head exploded like a firecracker in a tin can.