“I’m so sorry,” Brandon whispered.
And then he was Brandon again; the real Brandon. The one who was both alive and dead, both here and gone. The cabin righted itself in a single moment. The Dark’s residue ebbed away and they were left there on the floor, surrounded by rotting wood and silence. Somewhere far away, lake water lapped ashore. Somewhere farther away, the last of the Dark scuttled into the shadows until there was nothing left.
It was over.
Brandon’s eyes were half obscured by a deep crack in his glasses. Blood spotted the ridge of his jaw, but he was smiling. He wrapped his good arm around Logan’s back and pulled her against his chest. Logan’s arms hung at her sides in disbelief. This had to be a dream. The weight of it crashed over her with sudden, unrelenting force. She wasn’t dead, she wasn’t dreaming, she was alive and there was no Dark left in her because there was no Dark anywhere.
Before she could help it, she was crying. Brandon held her, cautious at first like he wasn’t sure he was allowed, and then he was crying, too. They held each other and shook and cried because they were alive.
Beside them, the floorboards groaned. Elexis stirred, massaging the purple welt on his brow. His expression pinched. “I … where am I?”
Logan blinked. She untangled herself from Brandon’s arms and clambered to Elexis’s side, fumbling to untie the rope binding him to the piano. “Oh my god. Please say you’re okay.”
Elexis groped along the cabin floor for his glasses. Other than the knotted bruise at his brow, he looked unharmed. Logan plucked his glasses from the rubble and grimaced. One lens was missing and the wire frame was bent. She held the glasses between them and laughed uneasily. Elexis groaned. “Awesome.”
Logan hugged him. “I’ll buy you, like, a thousand new pairs. I’m so happy you’re alive.”
“Whoa,” Elexis breathed. He looked over Logan’s shoulder. “Mr. Woodley, are you okay?”
Brandon cradled his injured arm and offered a pained smile. Blood stained his hand and soaked into his frayed jeans. It was worse than Logan had realized; guilt knotted in her stomach like a clenched fist.
She’d done this. She’d pulled the trigger.
“I’m fine.” Brandon glanced at his arm. “But … maybe we should get out of here?”
Logan nodded to Elexis. Slowly, they hoisted Brandon from the ground with his good arm over Logan’s shoulders. Brandon winced at the pressure, but slowly, they hobbled out of the cabin.
The sky was splashed with pale dawn and the trees were quiet, leaning in the wind like they were forming a way out. Logan’s breath stung her chest with the effort of keeping Brandon upright. In the distance, the trees flashed red and blue. The gravel turnout was littered with state police, and at the front of the pack, Logan recognized Ashley, Alejo, and Gracia.
It took everything she had not to break into a sprint.
Logan and Elexis hauled Brandon the rest of the way to the gravel before Alejo rushed to meet them. He pressed one hand on Logan’s back and used the other to hold Brandon in place. Brandon slumped into his shoulder, breath rasping. He threw his head back against Alejo’s arm and laughed into the dawn.
“What happened?” Alejo asked. “There are paramedics. Someone will—”
“It’s gone.” Brandon lolled his forehead against Alejo’s neck. Blood from his shoulder painted Alejo’s denim jacket red. “It’s gone.”
Alejo didn’t speak. He stared, knuckles turning white as his grip on Brandon tightened. He looked into Logan’s eyes, silently begging her to confirm it.
She nodded.
“Oh my god,” Alejo breathed. He inhaled sharply and covered his mouth with a shaking hand. When he blinked, he was crying, too. The morning wind was cold and bitter, but Alejo pulled them together in a hug tight enough to block out the chill. He shook until his tears melted into laughter.