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"I’ll only do it as a last resort But I willyou can say or do to stopwheel so hard

She’s wrong There is so I can do to stop her

I can have the fourth breakthrough

I press harder on the gas, breaking the speed li

The Westerlies and I have a date And I have no intention of screwing this one up

CHAPTER 36

AUDRA

The salty air hitsocean wind singing in a language I can’t understand A Westerly

Vane parks near the beachfront, and welot toward theocean The Santa Monica Pier

It’s alht is clear, the heavy winds sweeping away any fog or clouds The aledblue and red lights, set against the black, starry sky All the shops and restaurants are closed The only things lit are the streetlights lining the railings along the edge of the pier This place was built for large crowds, but right now it’s e silently by their poles on the scattered benches

The solitude is eerie I feel exposed--vulnerable--as I struggle to keep up with Vane He climbs the wooden stairway like a man on a mission

As I step onto the pier the Westerlies pick up speed, fillingto be surrounded by winds I can’t understand Like being ers

But this place is familiar

I’ve been here once before, a day I’ve buried deep in s too painful to think about

Crowds of people swar my view of Vane and his brand-new fas are tired of standing in the shadows as his parents buy him drippy swirls of ice cream and pink puffy candy and buckets of popcorn and put hiets to have the perfect, happy life I can only watch from a distance

For the first time since I joined the Gales, I’ht and kill Fro forabove the rippled water They call toI could fly on h to be free?

I step toward the rails

Vane’s dad shouts for hi, and I obediently return towith the blue trim and the arched s The room echoes with music and conversation, and I watch Vane circle the carousel, selecting his favorite horse He picks a gray stallion with a red saddle and a blackto reo The doors are locked and the s are dark, but when I squint through the glass I can see the painted ponies staring atmachine I’d hidden beside The place I heard a voice so familiar itfar too htest I shove people out of my way, run up to every man I see, but none of them is him

The carousel starts to spin and it feels like the rest of the world is spinning aroundit harder to hear Harder to think I can’t separate the voices, s asktrouble with the Gales forsuch a spectacle, but I don’t care I have to findhim to stay

"Audra"

I spin toward the sound and lock eyes with Vane as he rides past aze for a few seconds, but it’s clear: He knows rabshis hands palI could reach inside and steady ? One second you were behind lass, white as a ghost"

"You saw me that day"

"What?"

After Vane saw me, my father’s voice disappeared I didn’t know if part of hi mistake, but I did remember that I’d proet that again And I never let myself think about that day or wonder what it meant Which is probably why I o, you came here with your family," I remind him "I followed you to keep an eye on you And while you were riding the carousel, you saw me in the crowd, and you knew me"

He shouldn’t have known me

I was supposed to be erased

He stares into space and a slow grin spreads across his lips "I forgot about that That was the first time I started to think you were real I wanted to jump off the carousel and find you, but my mom had her arms wrapped around ured Iyou"

A few seconds of silence pass as I digest that

"So, how does it work?" he asks "How did you ht?"

"You dream about me?"

The idea stirs such a mix of hot and cold I don’t knohich sensation to settle on

"That’s how I recognized you" He keeps his voice low as a fisher a tune that feels far too cheerful for theas I can renized me fro about me

There’s only one way that could be possible His mind would have to separate my voice from the whisper of the wind We can do that with the people we care about Like how I’d dream about my father after he sent me his lullabies

Buthow could Vane care about me? Before his memories were erased, he barely knew me And in order to find my voice on the wind and attach it to otten?

He’d have to lovefor some other explanation

"Trust me, it’s you"

There are dozens of different ways to love somebody But how could Vane Weston feel any of them for me--especially back then?

"Your hair’s always loose," he adds quietly

"Loose?"

"Yeah It’s not in the braid It’s freeand beautiful"

His voice is soft Tender Laced with the kind of eaze--I knohat I’ll see But it’s like he draws me to him, and when our eyes lock I find the same intense stare I’ve seen too many times in my brief days with him