Khadijah turns slightly. “Me? What about you? Tell the truth.”

  “Recovering from foxglove poisoning isn’t for the weak, but I’m here. Grateful for it, even.” Veda rolls her shoulders, wincing slightly. “You? Peter told me what happened.”

  “I’m Unseen,” she says bluntly. “I’m coping. One day at a time. Peter’s been helping me adjust, but I’m more shocked by everyone’s reaction. The Unseen are usually left to drift, but people keep bringing food to our house, keep checking in on us . . . I know it’s because—”

  “They care.” Veda fidgets. “I’ll never be able to thank you for what you did.”

  “Then don’t,” Khadijah tells her earnestly. “I would have made the same decision again knowing the outcome.”

  Veda rests her head on her friend’s shoulder and wraps an arm around her, grateful not only for her sacrifice but also her friendship. Khadijah rests her head on hers, and they settle into a comfortable silence, watching as sunlight dances across the surface of the lake—still, yet endlessly moving.

  Walking through the wreckage of her cottage, Veda assesses the debris. She’s not alone.

  Hiram holds her hand as they move from room to room. She tells him stories about what the place was like when she first moved in, her voice soft as her fingers trail over battered furniture. She looks at the scorched remnants and shares memories, though she doesn’t need to take any with her. Not even her ruined talisman. Instead, she thanks the scorched walls for what they once held. Hiram senses her sadness in yet another thing she has lost, but also her contentment. In the charred remains of the solarium, she stands still.

  “This is no longer mine, but that’s okay. Let’s go,” she says.

  “How far?”

  They return to their island sanctuary. It’s as they left it, but they are not.

  Hiram is the first to fall asleep. Antaris and August doze in the hammock, swaying gently, while Peter and Khadijah nod off in the breeze on the balcony overlooking the Sound. Veda stays awake and watches the sunset in grateful reverence. It’s dusk when she’s interrupted.

  “You’re supposed to be resting,” Hiram murmurs, his sleepy voice loud in the quiet surrounding them.

  “I will.”

  He tugs her back to their room before Veda eases into the bed with him. A careful arm wraps around her as she turns on her side to face him. Hiram’s gaze holds something she can’t articulate, while her own feelings and sentiments sit on the tip of her tongue, ready to be expressed. Yet she doesn’t voice them.

  “Did you sleep at all?” Hiram asks.

  “Not yet.”

  “I think today was the first time I’ve been able to sleep since . . .” He trails off, the storm in his eyes encroaching.

  Startled by the painful undercurrent of his answer, and lost in the swell between them, Veda reaches out as much as her body allows. She’s still sore, but she twines their hands together, sweeping a thumb over his knuckles repeatedly. The rest of her energy is devoted to brushing her lips against Hiram’s, letting them linger. There’s nothing more vital in the world than this single kiss. This fragile moment is firm but tender. Hiram doesn’t pull away until his heavy eyes flutter shut and his body begins to relax beside hers.

  “What keeps you awake?” he asks.

  Veda shifts closer, too tired to lie. “Thoughts. Memories. You.”

  Hiram tenses, his eyes as blue as the sky stretched over a treacherous sea. Tumultuous and untamable. Indifferent to mankind’s whims. Veda does nothing except wait him out, but that doesn’t stop her from trying to navigate the storm.

  “Have you processed everything yet? Talked to anyone about finding me? I—”

  “I have.” Hiram touches her face, looking at her as if she can’t be real. “But I don’t want to talk about that tonight.”

  Instead, he tangles their legs together and draws her closer. Veda’s fingers slowly, tentatively caress his face. She’s on the cliffside of affection, nervous that she’s going to fall.

  But maybe you should, an errant thought whispers.

  “I don’t have plans,” she murmurs. “I didn’t expect to survive, but now . . . I-I’m overwhelmed with options.”

  “Are you leaving?”

  Veda considers him for a long moment. “Not unless you are.”

  Hiram is fully awake, nerves ghosting his features. “I’m not.”

  “I want to figure out what I want, what works for us, and I’d like to do it together.”

  “Why?”

  “Because I have time, and I no longer want to waste it.”

  The corners of his lips twitch. “And why else?”

  Her glare sharpens. “You’re going to make me say it, aren’t you?”

  “Of course I am,” he says smugly. “I think I’ve earned it.”

  She rolls her eyes. “You’re aggravating.”

  “I know,” Hiram says.

  “And an arrogant shit.”

  “I know.”

  It’s madness. It’s irrational. It’s terrifying. But it’s time.

  Veda settles her head on his chest, his hand running the length of her back. She closes her eyes. There is grace in surrender. Peace in the free fall.

  No more excuses, no more running. It’s time to stop denying herself happiness.

  Veda relents. “You’re lucky I love you.”

  “I know.” His smile softens, words earnest, only for her. “I love you, too.”

  Epilogue

  Winter has never been Veda’s favorite time of year, but now that it’s here, she realizes its purpose isn’t only frigid dormancy. It’s a season for growth and evolution. Veda has picked through the rubble of her old life and made a new one that’s all her own.

  Under the cold winter sun, in her freshly constructed greenhouse, she stands in a new safe space as Hiram wraps his arms around her. There aren’t any plants yet, and the fruit trees won’t arrive until next month, but soon enough this place will be teeming with life. Veda winces through each movement thanks to soreness—from an exhaustive afternoon not of pleasure, but of hard work. Thickening by the hour, a blanket of white stretches beyond the windows. In the warmth of the greenhouse, Hiram has a picnic set up. It’s a Vietnamese spread, and more than enough for them. They eat until they’re stuffed while Hiram listens to Veda’s plans for the space with a small smile on his face. The food is incredible, but watching the snowfall on the other side of the glass is better.

  “I have something for you,” Hiram says after a while. He reaches into the basket, pulling out a slender box.

  Veda’s brow rises as she accepts the gift. “Christmas isn’t for another two weeks.”

  “It’s something I’ve been working on since July. Took longer than I planned, but . . . it’s yours.”

  She doesn’t understand until she opens the box and sees it. She’s utterly shocked. Mouth parted, her hands tremble as she lifts it from its velvet cradle. The chain has been replaced, and though the twisted stones still bear the same cracks, there’s something different about it. It hums in her palm when she touches it. Beneath the sapphire, a soft white light glows, reminding her of a moonlit night. There is no doubt in her mind what it is. And whom it belongs to.

  “My amulet . . .” Her voice breaks as she looks at him, tears in her eyes. Hiram helps her clasp it around her neck, the feeling both new and familiar. Changed, but undeniably hers.

  “Where did you—”

  “I brought it back myself.”

  “With your magic? That must have taken months.”

  “Yeah, a few drops of magic every day paid for with temporary but blinding headaches.”

  “You couldn’t use your amulet.”

  “No.” Hiram touches the gemstone. “You’re worth it.” He cups her face, pressing a kiss to her forehead, then her lips.

  Reborn. For her. Because of her. Love was his driving point. His purpose.

  “You’re making Christmas gifts hard for me to top.”

  Hiram laughs, but his smile slowly sobers. “I’m happy you’re here.”

  Veda’s heart melts. “Me too.”

  The moment is broken by the buzz of Hiram’s phone. It’s Antaris, calling from Gabriel’s place, where he’s staying with August. At first, he doesn’t say much, but August’s enthusiastic chatter hypes him up enough to get him talking about learning to ice-skate. When the call ends, Hiram sets the phone down, a thoughtful look on his face.

  “I didn’t have to tell him that I’m coming back.”

  Veda leans in, pressing a kiss to his cheek. “Because he knows.”

  The celebration of Hiram’s law firm opening takes place a few days later, surrounded by everyone who helped bring it to life.

  Peter, who has been newly elected to the Oracle Council, is there with Khadijah, Clinton, and the rest of the new appointees, all of whom are now clients. Everly and Marlene are here, too. Francisco comes late, followed by Gabriel and August. John will be in town for the grand opening the week after New Year’s. A surprising number of Seers turn up to show their support. When Hiram’s parents arrive, late and unannounced, Veda watches Hiram quietly excuse himself from his conversation with Moab’s oldest son and Francisco. He crosses the room to greet them. Simran hands him a gift bag while Antaris tentatively approaches Barrett with the cat he’s introduced to every adult in the room.

  Much to Veda and Hiram’s surprise, his father scratches the growing cat behind his ears. His deep voice carries when he asks, “What’s his name?”

  “Mint,” Antaris says bashfully, then flees to her side.

  Veda hugs him close until he settles.

  “Thanks, Mom.”

  And he’s off to the next person. She can’t help but smile.

  Peter sits next to her. “Five minutes.”

  “What?”

  “It’ll be five minutes before Simran approaches you.”

  Veda pouts. “I rue the day I challenged her to change.”

  Peter laughs. “No, you don’t.”

  “No, I don’t.”

  They sit in companionable silence, watching the crowd until Peter speaks again. “I know you have your own greenhouse, but you’re always welcome at Weston’s. My storage is still yours.”

  She bumps him with her shoulder. “I know, and trust me, I’ll take you up on that. How’s the new person working out?” Veda left Weston in September to start at Khadijah’s clinic, where she’s been knocking the dust off her skills in preparation for restarting her internship in March.

  “Well enough, I think. She’s got big shoes to fill . . . Right on time. Incoming.”

  With that, he has the nerve to leave her alone to face Simran. For a fleeting moment, Veda considers locking herself inside Hiram’s office to avoid the encounter, but for the past few months, things have been somewhat amiable.

  “A pleasure to see you as always, Miss Thorne,” Simran says with impeccable poise.

  “Likewise, for the most part,” Veda replies with the barest hint of a smile. “You can call me Veda.”

  Simran raises a brow. “Duly noted, Miss Thorne. I will see you three for our quarterly dinner tomorrow.”

  It’s the first of its kind, and Hiram’s idea. A trial run of reconciliation, so to speak.

  “You will,” Veda confirms.

  “Thank you for helping us get to this point with him.”

  “I did nothing. It was all Hiram. He’ll try as long as you do.”

  “I have been.”

  Veda knows. Simran’s been donating to the Seer clinic. The donations are returned each time, just as Khadijah continues to decline Simran’s invitations for tea. But in both respects, Simran remains persistent, continuing to unlearn her bias. Perhaps one day things will change, but she isn’t waiting. She’s doing what Veda once told Hiram: showing them who she is . . . or rather, who she wants to become. Watching Simran walk around, greeting everyone the same, is still strange to see, but it’s another step toward progress.

  After the party ends, they clean up, activate the talisman, and head home. It’s near sunset when the urge to walk the forest strikes. The decision to search for Nénuphar today is unconscious, but Hiram drifts in the direction he remembers as Veda and Antaris follow. The sun slips lower while they search the forest. North to south. East to west. They don’t find it.

  Dusk marks the end of their search, when they finally accept that the healing waters won’t appear this time. They gather around Antaris, each one hugging him gently as his shoulders dip.

  “Nénuphar is only for those who need healing,” Veda explains. “I don’t think we need it anymore.”

  Still a little fractured individually, together they are whole.

  Veda takes both their hands, and they all walk home in the soft dark, moonlight gently rising behind them. Home greets them with open arms, but there’s something else.

  A familiar, healing olive tree.

  Veda turns to Hiram, who smiles. “Figured it was only fitting that it would be the first resident. Peter had a few of the staff deliver it while we were at the party.”

  She stares at the tree for so long that she doesn’t realize Hiram and Antaris left and the former returns with hot chocolate—spiked for the two of them, sweet and simple for Antaris. They’re armed with blankets when they step outside to savor the crisp night. Antaris will join them again shortly. The sky is clear, the moon is new, and the stars, unhindered, blaze across the sky, shining in full splendor. They settle on the dormant grass. Veda leans against Hiram as she catches him gazing skyward.

  “I thought you didn’t care much for the stars.”

  “I’ve been told I should look at them more often to gain perspective.”

  Veda smiles in the face of his smirk. “Now, who told you to do such a thing?”

  “Someone extremely aggravating, and bossy, and—”

  “Such romantic adjectives.”

  Hiram rolls his eyes but smiles.

  “So . . .” Veda sips her drink. “How does it feel to have your own practice?”

  “Surreal,” he answers quietly. “But no more surreal than watching you and my mother today. You know why she keeps cornering you, right?”

  “No.”

  “She’s checking your hand—not for the pillbox ring, but for a new one.”

  Veda recoils. “Absolutely the hell not. We’ve been together for five minutes.”

  “Six months.”

  “You’re making that up.”

  “It’s a generous estimate.” He laughs when she sulks, but soon sobers. “Is that a permanent no . . . or a no for now?”

  “For now. I want peace with you and Antaris before we change anything. What do you think?”

  “I agree,” he says. “I love you, and I’m in no rush. I’ve waited about a decade, what’s a few more years?”

  “A decade?” Veda bursts out laughing. “The graduation party where you never even talked to me? You’re insane.”

  “When you know, you know.” He leans closer. “We took the long way around.”

  The back door swings open, and Antaris comes out carrying two lanterns. One his, one hers. Curious, Veda sheds her blanket and follows him to the water’s edge.

  Hiram joins them. “What is it?”

  Antaris offers Veda her lantern, then concentrates on his finger until there is a tiny flame hovering over it. Veda’s smile grows. She can’t contain how proud she is of him doing magic without fear.

  “Well done.” Hiram kneels beside him.

  Antaris grins, then tries to guide the flame toward the lantern.

  “You want to light it?” Veda asks, confused.

  “I’ve caught them all,” Antaris whispers.

  Nightmares, sadness, grief, and everything that left him struggling at night.

  “Me too.” Veda holds her own lantern, struck by a profound feeling of knowing it’s time to let it go. “Let’s do it.”

  Antaris’s eyes brighten when he lights his lantern with Hiram’s help, and Veda lights hers with both their support.

  Three. Two. One.

  They let go.

  Beneath the crescent moon, the breeze carries their lanterns skyward until they are mere specks on their way to join the stars.

  Acknowledgments

  My patient family, who fled at the sight of my laptop. My supportive husband, who smiles and nods. All my friends who dragged me to each finish line—you know who you are. K, the yin to my yang. Casey, who counts all my buts and is quick with a spreadsheet. Krampus. Listeners of my unhinged tinfoil-hat ramblings. Thao, who has read eight hundred versions of this novel. Sunny’s legendary sixteen-minute voice note defending a character. My editors, who whipped this book into shape. Anyone who has ever yelled at me to charge my phone, drink water, or sleep. Just know, you’re all the real MVPs.

  About the Author

  Alexis Marie grew up in the suburbs of Georgia with her mom. She is married, has one sister, and can be found either under a heated blanket with her laptop and dog at her side or out in the garden pleading with her plants to stay alive in the Southern heat.

 

 

  Alexis Marie, Sight Unseen

 

 

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