“I tell you I’ve never had tea before. You look outraged.”

  Hugo grinned ruefully. “Maybe not outraged.”

  “Yeah, yeah. Keep telling yourself that. You would be so irritated. But you’d also be patient.”

  “I’d ask you what flavors you like.”

  “Peppermint. I like peppermint.”

  “Then I have just the tea for you. Trust me, it’s good. What brings you here?”

  “I don’t know,” Wallace said, caught in a fantasy where everything was beautiful and nothing hurt. He’d been here before in secret. But now it was out in the open, and he never wanted it to end. “I saw the sign near the road and took a chance.”

  “Did you?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Thank you for taking a chance.”

  Wallace struggled against closing his eyes. He didn’t want to lose this moment. He forced himself to memorize every inch of Hugo’s face, the curl of his lips, the stubble he’d missed on his jaw when shaving earlier. “You’d make the tea. Put it into a little pot and set it on a tray. I’d be sitting at the table near the window.”

  “I’d bring the tray out to you,” Hugo said. “There’d be a second cup, because I want you to ask me to sit down with you.”

  “I do.”

  “You do,” Hugo agreed. “Sit a spell, you say. Have a cup of tea with me.”

  “Will you?”

  “Yes. I sit in the chair opposite you. Everything else fades away until it’s only you and me.”

  “I’m Wallace.”

  “I’m Hugo. It’s nice to meet you, Wallace.”

  “You pour the tea.”

  “I hand you the cup.”

  “I wait for you to pour your own.”

  “We drink at the same time,” Hugo said. “And I see the moment the flavor hits your tongue, the way your eyes widen. You didn’t expect it to taste like it does.”

  “It reminds me of when I was younger. When things made sense.”

  “It’s good, right?”

  Wallace nodded, eyes burning. “It’s very good. Hugo, I—”

  Hugo said, “And maybe we just sit there, wasting away the afternoon. We talk. You tell me about the city, the people who hurry everywhere they go. I tell you about the way the trees look in the winter, snow piling on the branches until they hang low to the ground. You tell me about all the things you’ve seen, all the places you’ve visited. I listen, because I want to see them too.”

  “You can.”

  “I can?”

  “Yes,” Wallace said. “I can show you.”

  “Will you?”

  “Maybe I decide to stay,” Wallace said, and he’d never meant it more. “In this town. In this place.”

  “You’d come in every day, trying different kinds of tea.”

  “I don’t like a lot of them.”

  Hugo laughed. “No, because you’re very particular. But I find the ones you do like, and make sure I always have them on hand.”

  “The first cup I’m a stranger.”

  “The second you’re an honored guest.”

  And Wallace said, “And then I have one more. And then another. And then another. What does that make me?”

  “Family,” Hugo said. “It makes you family.”

  “Hugo?”

  “Yeah?”

  “Don’t forget me. Please don’t forget me.”

  “How can I?” Hugo said.

  “Even when I’m gone?”

  “Even when you’re gone. Don’t think about it now. We still have time.”

  They did.

  They didn’t.

  Hugo’s eyes grew heavy. He fought it, eyes blinking slowly, but he’d already lost. “I think it’d be nice,” he said, words slurring slightly. “If you came here. If you stayed. We’d drink tea and talk and one day, I’d tell you that I loved you. That I couldn’t imagine my life without you. You made me want more than I ever thought I could have. Such a funny little dream.”

  His eyes closed and didn’t reopen. He breathed in and out, lips parting.

  After a time, Wallace said, “And I would tell you that you made me happier than I’d ever been. You and Mei and Nelson and Apollo. That if I could, I’d stay with you forever. That I love you too. Of course I do. How could I not? Look at you. Just look at you. Such a funny little dream.”

  For the rest of the night, he floated above Hugo, watching, waiting.

  CHAPTER

  22

  The next morning—the seventh, the final, the last—Cameron said, “Will you go with me to the door?”

  Wallace blinked in surprise as he looked down at Cameron. “You want me there?”

  He nodded.

  “I’m not … I can’t go—not yet. I’m not going through yet.”

  “I know,” Cameron said. “But I think it’ll help, having you there.”

  “Why?” Wallace asked helplessly.

  “Because you saved me. And I’m scared. I don’t know how I’m going to climb the stairs. What if my legs don’t work? What if I can’t do it?”

  Wallace thought of all he’d learned since walking through the doors of Charon’s Crossing for the first time. What Hugo had taught him. And Mei. And Nelson and Apollo. He said, “Every step forward is a step closer to home.”

  “Then why is it so hard?”

  “Because that’s life,” Wallace said.

  Cameron gnawed on his bottom lip. “He’ll be there.”

  Zach. “He will.”

  “He’ll yell at me.”

  “Will he?”

  “Yes,” Cameron said. “That’s how I’ll know he still loves me.” His eyes were wet. “I hope he yells as loud as he can.”

  “Until you think your eardrums will burst,” Wallace said, patting him on the top of the head. “And then he’ll never let you go.”

  “I’d like that.” He looked away. “I’ll find you. When you come. I want him to meet you. He needs to know you and what you’ve done for me.”

  Wallace couldn’t. Everything was hazy. The colors were melting around him. His strings had been cut, and he was floating away, away, away.

  “Then yes,” Wallace said. “I’ll be there when you go.”

  * * *

  Cameron hugged Mei.

  He hugged Nelson.

  He patted Apollo on the head.

  He said, “Will it hurt?”

  “No,” Hugo said. “It won’t.”

  He looked to Wallace, holding out his hand. “Will you?”

  Wallace didn’t hesitate. He took Cameron’s hand in his own. Cameron clutched him tightly as if to keep Wallace from floating away.

  Mei, Nelson, and Apollo stayed on the bottom floor.

  “I expect you to come right back, Wallace,” Nelson called out. “I’m not done with you yet.”

  “I know,” Wallace said, squeezing Cameron’s hand to get him to stop. He looked back at them. “We won’t be long.”

  Nelson didn’t look like he believed him, but Wallace couldn’t do anything about that now.

  Hugo led the way up the stairs to the second floor.

  “Can you hear that?” Cameron asked. “It’s singing.”

  To the third floor.

  “Oh,” Cameron said, tears streaming down his cheeks. “It’s so loud.” He looked out the windows as they passed them by, and he laughed and laughed. Wallace didn’t know what he saw, but it wasn’t meant for him.

  To the fourth floor.

  They stopped at the landing.

  The flowers carved into the wood of the door bloomed on the ceiling above them.

  The leaves grew.

  “When you’re ready, remove the hook and let it go. I’ll open the door. Just tell me when,” Hugo said.

  Cameron nodded and looked up at Wallace floating above them. He squeezed Wallace’s hand before pulling him down to eye level. “I know,” he whispered. “When you brought me back, when you put your hook into my chest, I felt it. They’re yours, Wallace. And you’re theirs. Make sure they know that. You don’t know when you’ll get the chance again.”

  “I will,” Wallace whispered back.

  Cameron kissed his cheek before letting Wallace go. Hugo grabbed the leash, eyes soft and sad.

  Cameron breathed in and out once, twice, three times. He said, “Hugo?”

  “I’m here.”

  “I found my way back. It took a little while, but I did. Thank you for believing in me. I think I’m ready now.” And with that, he grasped the hook Wallace couldn’t see. Cameron grimaced as he pulled it from his chest. He gasped in relief as he opened his hand.

  “It’s gone,” Hugo said quietly. “It’s time.”

  “I feel it,” Cameron said, looking up toward the door. “I’m rising. Hugo, please. Open the door.”

  Hugo did. He reached up, fingers grazing against the doorknob. He gripped it and twisted it once.

  It was as it’d been with Alan. Light spilled down, so bright Wallace had to look away. The whispers gave way to birds singing. Wallace heard Cameron gasp as his feet left the floor. He raised his hand to shield his eyes, trying to make out Cameron in all the blinding light.

  “Oh my god,” Cameron breathed as he rose in the air toward the open doorway. “Oh, Wallace. It’s … the sun. It’s the sun.” Then, the moment before he rose through the doorway, a great and powerful joy filled his voice as he said, “Hello, my love. Hello, hello, hello.”

  The last Wallace saw of him were the bottoms of his shoes.

  The door slammed shut behind him.

  The light faded.

  The flowers curled in on themselves.

  The leaves shrank as the door settled in its frame.

  Cameron was gone.

  * * *

  They stood under the door for what felt like hours, the leash in Hugo’s hand as Wallace floated. It was almost time. Not yet, but close.

  * * *

  They drank tea as if it were any other day, the morning turning into afternoon as they pretended nothing was changing.

  They laughed. They told stories. Nelson and Mei reminded Wallace of how he’d looked in a bikini. Nelson said if only he was a couple of decades younger, he might consider going after Wallace himself, much to Hugo’s dismay. Wallace made Nelson show him the rabbit costume. It was quite startling. The basket of brightly colored eggs only made it worse, especially when his ears flopped all over the place, his nose wiggling. Nelson didn’t need to open the eggs for Wallace to know they were filled with cauliflower.

  Wallace had to grip the underside of the table to keep from rising farther. He tried to be inconspicuous about it, but they knew. They all knew. He’d forgone the leash, not wanting any distractions for what came next.

  As the sun moved across the sky, Wallace reflected back on the life he’d had before this place. It wasn’t much. He’d made mistakes. He hadn’t been kind. And yes, there were moments of outright cruelty. He could have done more. He should have been more. But he thought he’d made a difference, in the end, with help from the others. He remembered how Nancy had looked before she’d left the tea shop the last time. The way Naomi had sounded on the phone. The relief on Cameron’s face when the Husk he’d become melted away, life returning to the dead.

  Wallace had done more in death than he ever had in life, but he hadn’t done it alone.

  And maybe that was the point. He still had regrets. He thought he always would. Nothing could be done about that now. He’d found within himself the man he had thought he’d become before the heaviness of life had descended upon him. He was free. The shackles of a mortal life had fallen away. There was nothing holding him here. Not anymore.

  It hurt, but it was a good hurt.

  Hugo tried to keep up appearances, but the closer it came to dusk, the more agitated he became. He fell silent. He frowned. He crossed his arms defensively.

  Wallace said, “Hugo?” as Mei and Nelson quieted. Wallace gripped the table.

  Hugo shook his head.

  “Not now,” Wallace said. “I want you to be strong for me.”

  He had a stubborn set to his jaw. “What about what I want?”

  Nelson sighed. “I know this is hard on you. I don’t think that—”

  Hugo laughed hoarsely as his hands curled into fists. “I know. I just … I don’t know what to do.”

  Mei laid her head on his shoulder. “What you have to,” she whispered. “And we’ll be there with you. The both of you. Each step of the way.” She peered up at Wallace. “You turned into a pretty good dude, Wallace Price.”

  “Not as good as you, Meiying … what the hell is your surname?”

  She chuckled. “Freeman. Changed it last year. Best name I’ve ever had.”

  “Damn right,” Nelson said.

  He had so much more to say to all of them. But before he could, Apollo growled, going to the window that looked out to the front of the tea shop. The hands of the clock began to stutter as time slowed down.

  “No,” he whispered as a blue light began to fill Charon’s Crossing. “Not yet. Please, not yet—”

  Apollo howled, a long and mournful sound as the light faded. The clock froze completely, the hands unmoving.

  A light tapping on the door: thump, thump, thump.

  Hugo rose slowly from his chair, footsteps heavy as he walked toward the door. He hung his head, his hand on the doorknob.

  He opened it.

  The Manager stood on the porch. He wore a shirt that read IF YOU THINK I’M CUTE, YOU SHOULD SEE MY AUNT. Flowers hung from his hair, opening and closing, opening and closing.

  “Hugo,” the boy said in greeting. “How nice to see you again. You’re doing well, I see. Or as well as can be expected.”

  Hugo took a step back but didn’t respond.

  The Manager walked into the tea shop, the floor creaking under his bare feet, the walls and ceiling beginning to ripple as they had before. He looked at each of them in turn, gaze lingering on Mei before turning to Nelson and Apollo, who growled at him but kept his distance.

  “Good dog,” the boy said.

  Apollo barked savagely in response.

  “Well, mostly a good dog. Mei, you’ve taken to this Reaper business like a fish to water. I knew assigning you to Hugo was the right thing to do. I’m impressed.”

  “Frankly, I don’t give two shits what you—”

  “Ah,” the boy said. “No need for that. I am your boss, after all. I’d hate to think you’d need a mark on your permanent record.” He sniffed. “Nelson. Still here, I see. How … expected.”

  “Damn right I am,” Nelson growled. He pointed his cane at the Manager. “And don’t think you’re going to be making anyone do anything they don’t want to do. I won’t have it.”

  The boy stared at him for a long moment. “Interesting. I actually believed that threat, as inconsequential as it was. Please remember there is little you could do to me that would stop what must happen. I am the universe. You’re a speck of dust. I like you, Nelson. Please don’t make me regret that.”

  Nelson eyed him warily, but didn’t reply.

  The Manager approached the table. Wallace sat stock-still as Hugo closed the door. The lock clicked.

  The boy stopped at the table across from Wallace, inspecting the teapot and cups. He traced a finger along the spout of the pot. He caught a drop of liquid from the tip before pressing it against his tongue. “Peppermint,” he said, sounding amused. “Candy canes. Isn’t that right, Wallace? Your mother made them in the kitchen in winter. How strange it is that a memory so comforting comes from someone you grew to despise.”

  “I don’t despise her,” Wallace said stiffly.

  The boy arched an eyebrow. “Is that so? Why not? She was, at best, distant. Both of your parents were. Tell me, Wallace, what will you do when you see them again? What will you say?”

  He hadn’t thought about it. He didn’t know what that made him.

  The boy nodded. “I see. Well, I suppose that’s better left to you than me. Have a seat, Hugo, so that we may begin.”

  Hugo walked back to the table, pulling the chair out before sitting back down, expression blank and cold. Wallace hated to see it on him.

  The boy clapped his hands. “That’s better. Hold on just a second.” He went to the table near them, pulling the chair out and dragging it along the floor back to their table. He pushed it between Mei and Nelson before he climbed onto it, sitting on his knees. He rested his elbows on the table, his chin in his hands. “There. Now we’re all the same. I’d like a cup of tea. I always did like your tea, Hugo. Would you pour it for me?”

  And Hugo said, “No. I won’t.”

  The boy blinked slowly, his eyelashes black soot against golden skin. “What was that?” he asked, voice pitched high and sweet, like candy-coated razors.

  “You’re not getting tea,” Hugo said.

  “Oh.” The boy cocked his head. “Why not?”

  “Because you’re going to listen to me, and I don’t want you distracted.”

  “Ooh,” the boy breathed. “Is that right? This should be interesting. You’ve got my attention. Go ahead. I’m listening.” He cast a sly glance at Wallace before looking back at Hugo. “But I’d hurry if I were you. Appears our Wallace here is having a hard time staying seated. I wouldn’t want him to float away while you’re … how do you all put it? Giving me the ol’ what for.”

  Hugo folded his hands on the table in front of him, the pads of his thumbs pressed together. “You lied to me.”

  “Did I? About what, exactly?”

  “Cameron.”

  “Ah,” the Manager said. “The Husk.”

  “Yes.”

  “He went through the door.”

  “Because we helped him.”

  “Did you?” He tapped his fingers against his cheeks. “Fascinating.”

  Wallace felt like screaming, but he kept his mouth closed. He couldn’t let his emotions get the best of him, not when this counted more than anything. And he trusted Hugo with every fiber of his being. Hugo knew what he was doing.

  Hugo’s voice was even when he said, “You let him be as he was. You told me there was nothing we could do.”