The worst thing about being fatigued with illness in the middle of the freezing woods with no way of seeking warmth, medicine, or shelter? You don’t have the energy to do anything. Not even fundamental necessities like walking, stretching, eating . . .

         “Please eat something,” Jack pleads beside me, holding one of the last of his crackers from his bag under my nose. “I’ll feed you, if you want me to.”

         I roll my eyes and let out an involuntary cough, undoubtedly contaminating the cracker so it is now deemed inedible for Jack. He refuses to relent, gently grazing my lower lip with the outer edge of the cracker. I pull my head back, shaking it in declination.

         “I’m not hungry,” I mumble, instead scooting closer to Jack’s warm body. “I’m just really, really sleepy. All. The. Time.”

         He drapes an arm around me and rubs my back. “You look awful,” he says with a sigh.

         I don’t offer any kind of response, instead sniffling to prevent my nose from running. There’s no use in arguing. Arguments exert energy, which I am almost completely drained of at this point. In more than one fleeting moment, it has occurred to me that this is what it feels like to be dying.

         Beside me, Jack is suddenly wincing.

         “Is it your foot? Does it hurt?”

         He shakes his head. “Not that. I really have to pee, but I can’t move.”

         Oh. I never thought about that. The reality of our situation suddenly hits me like the impact from a train. I don’t have the strength to move anywhere, and Jack has no way of walking with his foot in the current condition that it’s in. We’re both confined to this sleeping bag in the middle of this clearing until either help comes to rescue us, which is virtually improbable at this point, or until we die. The situation is officially out of the both of our control.

         “Do you want me to help you?” I find myself asking, taking both of us by surprise.

         “I think I can get it, although I’m gonna have to go in the snow right here. Do you think you could get the zipper on the sleeping bag down?”

         “Yeah, I can do that.”

         I crawl out of from the covers, immediately getting bombarded by the callously cold air around us and resisting the impulse to dive back inside the warmth underneath. Crawling toward the foot of the sleeping bag on hands and knees, I drag the zipper along with me until the flap is open, allowing Jack to scoot toward the edge so he can reach the snow.

         I wait at the other end for several seconds, waiting for any sign that he’s going to go pee so I can come back inside and warm up, to no avail. After at least twenty seconds have passed, I say something, my back turned toward him.

         “Are you gonna go or not?” my irritated voice pierces through the air, disturbing the previous blanket of silence.

         “I’m sorry; it’s just weird, peeing in front of a girl. I can’t pee under pressure like this.”

         “Are you kidding me? I’m not looking douche face. Just hurry up and pee so I can stop freezing my butt off before I come over there and punch you.”

         “But it’s awkward!” he whines.

         I jut my chin out in annoyance, my teeth clenching together. “Fine. I will sing as loud as I possibly can while you pee. Does that make you feel better?”

         I can practically hear his stupid dazzling smile as it spreads across his face behind me. “Yes please. But do I get to request the song? I vote you sing something by Beyoncé.”

         I stare up at the heavens in feigned exasperation. “I’m singing the ABC’s, or not at all. My voice doesn’t do Beyoncé justice.”

         “Fine.”

         “So are you ready, or . . .?”

         “Oh, yeah. Uh, okay.”

         I make an exaggeratedly peeved face even though he can’t see me and divulge into a loud rendition of the alphabet, my voice coming out phlegmy and slightly off pitch, a seemingly impossible task when you’re reciting a song that most people master in preschool.

         I can barely make out the sound of his urine as it hits the snow beside him and start singing louder, eyes narrowing at a large tree several yards away, its branches reaching out in all directions, a haunting silhouette against the slate gray morning sky. When I near the letter Z and realize that he’s still going, I start singing the alphabet a second time, ignoring the feeling of lightheadedness that ensues from singing so shrilly when I have a pretty unforgiving headache to begin with.

         “Okay, I’m good. Thanks for that,” he finally says, raising his voice to be heard over my singing when I’m about halfway through with my second performance. Relieved, I clamp my mouth shut and begin noncommittally crawling back over, self-conscious about not bumping his foot. I drag the zipper along with me, the sound from which cutting through the air with a resounding zip as the metal teeth coalesce together once again.

         “Beautiful singing,” he says with a dignified smirk once I finally join him under the covers once again, shivering slightly.

         “Beautiful peeing,” I fire back in retaliation.

         “I knew you were listening!” he cries indignantly, his lips jutting out into something akin to a pout.

         “You’re such a dork.”

         “So are you.”

         “Not really.”

         “I beg to differ.”

         “I beg to sleep.”

         “Then sleep.”

         “Okay.”

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         “Opal?” I feel someone shoving my shoulder. I groan and curl in on myself, unwilling to awake from my slumber. “Opal.” Cue another shove. I groan louder. “Opal!”

         My eyes snap open and I glare at Jack. “What?!”

         “Sorry, but you’ve been sleeping for a few hours now. I’m lonely.” His voice has an edge of whining to it.

         “And that’s my problem because . . . ?”

         He ignores me. “I’ve been thinking while you’ve been asleep, and in the event that we were to, ya know, die out here, I kind of wanna get something off my chest. Last minute confessions or something."

         I roll over on my side so I’m facing him, eyes still sticky with sleep. “I thought you promised we weren’t gonna die out here.” I don’t have enough spunk in me to make my voice sound accusatory.

         “We’re not,” he quickly confirms, making me roll my eyes. “But in the event that it did occur, I kind of have something I want to tell you.”

         “Is this the part where you confess your undying love for me?” I droll, only half-kidding.

         “I’m getting there, hold on. Jeez, have some humility.”

         I reflect back to when we first met in the ski lodge days ago and he told me the exact same thing. What day was that? Wednesday? Thursday? And it’s Monday now. The day I’m supposed to be leaving to go back to Florida. I wonder if Ryan and Ellie are still going to fly home, giving up on their attempts of locating me. The idea doesn’t sound too farfetched.

         “Well anyway, you already know most of my deepest, darkest secrets, but I feel like I should tell you about Lily.”

         My heart sinks. “Lily?”

         “I haven’t spoken to her in almost a year,” he quickly adds. “But she stayed at the ski lodge for a bit last year, and we kind of had this thing. I was this quiet, friendless guy who had hardly ever made eye contact with a girl, let alone talked to one, and she was this beautiful girl who just kind of showed up one day. She wasn’t staying with anyone or anything, and we just somehow ended up getting really, err, close.”

         “How close?” I ask skeptically.

         “Close enough for me to fall in love with her,” he mumbles quietly, face reddening as he looks away.

         I feel my features soften. I can almost picture it—quiet, insecure, naïve Jack, finally talking to a girl and letting his heart get the better of him. It’s endearing, really.

         “What happened?” I probe lightly, voice barely above a whisper.

         “She left,” he says bitterly. “Which in retrospect, I really should’ve seen coming. She was there because she was running away. From what, I never found out. But she stayed long enough to get close to me and make me fall in love with her, and then she just kind of disappeared one day.”

         “That sucks,” I admit. “I’m sorry.”

         He shrugs. “Anyway, I never fully recovered, you know? I was in deep. And then you came, and you kind of looked like her, which was partially why I decided to work up the nerve to talk to you in the first place. I thought you might be a distraction or something. I never meant to get lost with you, but I did and as I got to know you I just started forgetting about her more and more until I stopped thinking about her completely. And I know that it’s kind of soon to be saying this and I know that you don’t believe in the whole ‘love’ thing but the honest-to-God truth is that IthinkI’mfallinginlovewithyou.”

         I feel my face pale and I grow limp, breath catching in my throat. The world seems to be spinning in pandemonium around me, though that might just be the illness messing with my head again. My mouth opens and closes helplessly, suddenly going dry. Out of all the boyfriends I’ve ever had, none of them have ever once used the L word.

         After an elongated silence that continues stretching on and on until the strings inside of me wear thin and burst, I dumbly remark, “You—you what?”

         He closes his eyes and exhales a deep breath. “What’s the use in hiding it? The truth is that I, Jack Jarvis, am totally and completely in love with you, Opal Finnegan. And maybe I’m being a bit rash and maybe I’m rushing into this a little too soon, but I can tell you that I know beyond a shadow of a doubt that I am falling in love with you.”

         Still digesting this newfound discovery, I found myself asking stupidly, “Your last name is Jarvis?”

         He breathes a laugh and shifts closer to me. “Yeah. It is.”

          I sigh and look him in the eye, captivated by the glowing look of affection that sparkles in his eyes. Affection directed at me. “But why?” I find myself asking.

         “I can’t really explain it; you just make me really, really happy in a way that nobody else ever has. And even if we do die in these woods together, at least it will be with someone who I love.”

         An overwhelming sense of pride swells up in my chest. Not the kind of pride where I think I’m better than everyone else. More like a kind of pride where I know that I am fortunate because I have everything I need right here beside me. And suddenly, it’s like everything just makes sense. I love him too.

         I, Opal Finnegan, am in love with a slightly dorky but undeniably cute boy from Alaska, the one with long and curly brown hair and unwavering smile.

         It suddenly occurs to me that love is a lot like connect the dots—you know, those worksheets that you would get as a kid where you’d take a marker and draw lines from one dot to another until a picture of some sort materialized. A lot of the time, you know exactly what you’re getting into before you even start, which is what keeps so many people from attempting to even give it a try. But love is about connecting those dots anyway; it’s about jumping into it anyway because as long as you stick with it and continue filling the gaps, eventually you’ll have this masterpiece that you can look back on and be proud of because you stuck with it and didn’t give up, even when you thought you knew what you were getting into and it didn’t seem worth it.

         “I think I love you too,” I finally admit, flitting my eyes to meet his. In a quieter voice, I add, “Which is really scary.”

         His hand slowly slides over to mine and he weaves our fingers together, giving my hand a reassuring squeeze.

         “Love is terrifying,” he agrees. “That’s why it’s usually best that two people overcome it together.”

         “Jack?”

         “Yeah?”

         “I’m sorry.”

         “For what?”

         “Everything.”

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         “You’ve never eaten at a Texas Road House?” I ask in horror. “You haven’t lived, then. Their bread and cinnamon butter is to die for.”

         "I can see it now," Jack says. "Opal Finnegan's cause of death: stuck in woods where bread and cinnamon butter are inaccessible. May there be an eternal supply of these essential food products wherever she goes."

         I whack him in the chest, sniggering slightly at the absurdity of our conversation, which has somehow transformed from confessions of love for each other to talking about the most random subjects fathomable.

         “No but seriously, if I ever get the chance to go to Florida, I’ll ring you up and invite you to take me.”

         “I thought you said that you hope you never go to Florida if it’s filled with people like me,” I counter, gesticulating at myself.

         He shrugs. “Maybe that’s all the more reason for me to come. I think you’re pretty great, so the rest of Florida has to be cool too, right?” He shoots a lopsided smile at me and I roll my eyes.

         “That’s not what you were saying a few days ago.”

         Instead of acknowledging my words, he puts his index finger up to his lips, shushing me. My eyes widen—he doesn’t hear another bear, does he?

         “Do you hear that?” he whispers, sitting up in sudden interest. I shake my head, straining to hear whatever it is that captures his interest. Aside from a slight rustling from a breeze and the occasional screech of a bird, I can’t pick up on anything out of the ordinary.

         It takes me several seconds until I hear the distant purring of an engine. I turn to Jack with wide eyes, only to see him rummaging through the backpack. What he’s searching for, I don’t know. How are we going to get the attention of the pilot from here?

         As soon as he retrieves the item that he’s searching for and pulls it out, I feel my entire body go rigid with a familiar fear that I was hoping to have left behind for good.

         “W-why do you still have that? I thought you got rid of it!” I screech, scrambling away from the sleek black handgun that rests in Jack’s grip, the same one that I used to murder the grown man from yesterday. I can feel bile rising up in my throat at the mere memory. “Why would you keep that?” My voice comes out hysteric.

         “I’m gonna use it to signal the plane.”

         A renewed terror seeps through my veins as images of the murder yesterday come back into my mind—images that I had nearly forgotten about by this point. I seem to be frozen like a statue, staring at the weapon in Jack’s hand with doe-eyed awe. The reverberating echo of the plane overhead seems to be growing louder, rumbling throughout the woods and disturbing the tranquility that had previously encompassed.

         Jack slowly raises the gun so it’s pointed at the sky and shoots, the first bullet zipping into the sky with a loud BANG!  I squeeze my eyes shut after he does that, unwilling to witness whatever happens from there. I bring my hands up to cover my face and slowly begin rocking back and forth when he pulls the trigger again after about a five second delay. Everything happens so fast that I can't seem to wrap my mind around what's going on. In this moment, I’m not strong. I’m not fearless. I’m not powerful.

         I’m Opal. That’s it. That’s all I have to offer the world. Take it or leave it; that’s the best I can do.

         Jack pulls the trigger a third time when the sound of the plane is nearly deafening and I continue rocking myself back and forth, back and forth, eyes still screwed shut. I don’t want to know what happens next. I don’t want to be lost. I don’t want to be found.

         I just want to be okay.

         The following moments happen in a blur, and it’s like my brain takes the spectacle before me and saves a pixelated copy that shows only snippets and not the whole scene. The roaring in my ears is so loud and tumultuous that I bring my hands up to cover them, shuddering zealously. It barely registers that Jack has at some point crawled over to where I am and has wrapped an arm around me, but I ignore him. Part of me feels like throwing up, part of me feels like passing out, and another part of me feels more alive than I have ever felt.

         My eyes stay shut and I continue rocking until an unfamiliar voice calls out, “Are you kids lost?”

         “Yes sir!” Jack yells back, squeezing my shoulder. “She needs to get to a hospital immediately! She’s really sick.”

         “Come on then!” the pilot yells.

         I suppose that this is the surreal moment that we’ve both been waiting for—we’re finally going home!—but the only thing that I feel is wildly overwhelmed. Once I finally manage to open my eyes, the world around me seems to be tilting on an axis, all wobbly and nausea-inducing. A small plane is parked several yards away, a stepladder propped up against it, ready to be boarded.

         We both remain sitting, looking at each other with expressionless faces. For some reason, I can’t find the gumption to stand up. Instead of trying to get myself up, I remain frozen in place, stunned. A faint voice in the back of my head reminds me that Jack can’t walk, but I feel lost and dizzy and nothing makes sense.

         There’s a soft whimper and it takes a moment for it to register that it came from me. I look up at Jack, but a bunch of spots suddenly flood my vision, making me feel like I’m going to throw up. A hand lands on my back and people are suddenly all around me saying something, but my brain can’t seem to make anything out from the jumbled cacophony of voices. I try to inhale a significant gulp of oxygen, hoping that whatever is happening to me passes.

         And that’s when everything goes black.

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         “I’m sure she’s okay, Ry, don’t worry. Do you want me to get you anything? A snack? Something to drink?” a foreign female voice asks, confusing me greatly. Why is a stranger talking to Ryan? And how did Ryan even get here? And most importantly—where the heck am I?

         My eyes feel like they’re glued together so I keep them shut, shifting in place as I try to get my bearings. There’s a shuffling sound coming from the other end of the room, an indicator that I’m not alone. I try to relax, eavesdropping on whatever conversation is happening in the room that I’m in.

         “This is all my fault,” Ryan’s tired voice mutters. “I should’ve just let her go to Paris like she wanted. Now she’s bedridden in some unfamiliar hospital after almost dying in the woods with some boy.”

         Well that answers one question.

         “Jack’s a good kid, I’ve seen him around,” the female voice says. I silently thank her for sticking up for him.

         Then it occurs to me. Where even is Jack? Is he okay? My stomach drops. What if he’s not okay? What if something happened to him?

         I slowly open my eyes, taking in the whitewash hospital room around me, the fluorescent overhead lights illuminating an unnatural glow that makes my eyes hurt. I bring my hands up to rub my eyes, and that’s when I see the IV needle that’s injected in my arm, held together by tape with a bag of clear liquid propped up on some contraption a few inches away from my bed.

         “Ryan?” My voice comes out raspier than I expected, and I clear my throat.

         My eyes trail over to where he’s sitting, and I recognize the short-haired girl sitting beside him to be that girl who I met in the ski lodge the first day—what was her name? Lydia? Lexi?

         My brother instantly stands up and walks over to my bed, his face a mixture of concern and relief. “Hey, how are you feeling? Are you okay?” he asks, taking a hand and letting it rest on top of my own hand. The sudden contact takes me by surprise; my brother is not a touchy-feely person.

         “Hey, I’m just gonna step out for a bit . . . give you two some space,” the girl from the ski lodge murmurs, giving me a small smile before padding over to the door, slipping outside of the hospital room.

         “I’m fine,” I mumble hoarsely. “Jack . . .?”

         “He’s okay,” Ryan reassures me. “His foot and ankle are fractured, and there was some kind of infection, but the doctors said he’ll be fine.”

         “Ry?”

         His eyes burn a hole through my face. “Yeah, Opie?”

         I smile. “You haven’t called me that since we were little.”

         His grasp on my hand tightens marginally. “I guess I haven’t, huh? What’s up, Opie?”

         “What happened?”

         He sighs. “You passed out from exhaustion and dehydration,” he explains gently, brushing a piece of hair out of my face with his free hand. “The plane had just landed and your body kinda shut down. The doctor said you might have died if you would’ve stayed out there much longer.”

         “Am I going to be okay?”

         “You’re going to be fine,” he promises. “You’re already much better than you were when you first got here.”

         “How long have I been in here?” I question with a frown, confused. My brain has a hard time processing all of this new information.

         “Two days.”

         I sigh, wishing I wasn’t so out of it. And then something else occurs to me.

         “Where’s Dad?”

         “He and Kristen are on their way from the ski lodge. He had to go back and get some sleep; he’s been sitting in here with you ever since he got the call that they found you.”

         “He has?”

         Ryan breathes out a small laugh. “Yeah, everyone’s been worried about you. Although if we’re being completely honest, Kristen’s been kinda pissy about the whole thing.”

         I purse my lips. “Figures.”

         “Dad says they’re probably gonna get a divorce,” Ryan says, taking me by surprise.

         “Wait, what? Why?”

         “I guess she tried convincing Dad that she should stay in Paris while he came back once they found out that you were missing and I can just tell that Dad is getting fed up with her. Look, we can talk about this later, but I think you should rest. Do you need anything? I can go get a nurse if anything is bothering you or if you’re in pain or something.”

         “No,” I say quickly. “Stay with me. I don’t wanna be alone.”

         “Okay,” he whispers, pulling up a chair to sit by my bed, his hand still lying on top of mine. “I’m right here, Opie.”

         I blink a few times until my eyelids feel heavy, wishing that I had Jack beside me to nuzzle into. Jack, who said he loves me. Jack, who I love in return.

         “Opal?” Ryan whispers.

         “Yeah?”

         “I’m sorry I haven’t been a good older brother. I’ve been ignoring you these past few years and I haven’t been here for you, and I’m really, really sorry about that.”

         The corners of my mouth creep up into a tiny smile.

         “It’s okay.”

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         The next few hours consist of me going in and out of consciousness, though I make an effort to never make it known when I’m awake. I kind of enjoy listening to the sounds in the room while everyone thinks I’m asleep. Right now Ryan and Ellie are sitting in here, neither really speaking.

         I heave a deep sigh and open my eyes, glancing over in their direction. At the same time I look over there, Ryan looks up and his eyes meet mine. “Opal, hey. Are you feeling okay?” he asks, standing up and walking over to my bed.

         “I’m fine,” I say, feeling a wave of déjà vu from our earlier conversation.

         “Good,” I hear Ellie say as she stands up and makes her way over to the side of my bed next to Ryan. “If you’re feeling okay I can yell at you for how selfish you were to just take off like that and get yourself lost. You do realize we had to spend our whole break looking for you instead of having any fun, right?”

         “Ellie,” my older brother hisses. “Leave her alone; she’s suffered enough as it is. Your mom and our dad might be married, but you will never be part of this family. So stop giving my little sister a hard time.”

         She huffs. “And here I thought you were cool, Ryan. Whatever, screw both of you. I’m leaving.”

         She storms over to the door and lets it click shut behind her, the overly sweet smell of her perfume trailing in her wake. I look at Ryan gratefully.

         “Thanks for sticking up for me.”

         He waves his hand dismissively. “She’s been driving me insane this past week. It’s not even that she’s a bad person; she just gets it from her mom. But I should have been standing up for you a long time ago, so don’t thank me.”

         “It’s never too late to change,” I say, quoting Jack. Which reminds me. “When can I go see Jack?”

         “Soon,” he promises. “The nurse said that as long as you keep responding well to the medication and your body gets fully rehydrated, you should be free to leave tomorrow.”

         “But I wanna see him now,” I mumble plaintively, sounding like a child more than myself.

         “You really like him.”

         “He kept me from dying,” I say. And made me realize that I can become a better person. And taught me that it’s okay if you’re not perfect. And showed me how to love.

         “You have Lizzy’s approval, so that must be a good sign,” he says. A mental light bulb suddenly goes off in my brain.

         “You and Lizzy seem awfully close.” I smirk at him. “What’s the deal with you two?”

         His face reddens and he looks down at his feet. “We can talk more about me and Lizzy when you tell me more about you and Jack.”

         “Fair enough,” I mumble, knowing full well that neither one of us intend on sharing the full story about what we’ve been doing these past few days.

         The doorknob jiggles from across the room and then the door is pushed open, revealing my dad, looking tired as ever. I take in his graying hair and sharp features, sensing that I’m looking into the future at what Ryan will look like someday. He sees Ryan standing beside me and looks down at me, a new and unfamiliar look bubbling up in his eyes.

         “Hi sweetheart,” he says softly, approaching my other side of the bed tentatively, as though I’m a delicate piece of glass and if he says or does the wrong thing, I’ll shatter. I ignore the impulse to question when he started calling me ‘sweetheart’, deciding to let it slide this time.

         “Hi Dad.”

         “Are you feeling all right?”

         “I’m fine.”

         There’s an awkward pause, as if nobody knows what to say next.

         The sound of the door swinging open permeates the air, relieving the tense atmosphere. It takes everything in me to keep from audibly groaning when I catch sight of Kristen, blonde hair shining and face freshly coated in a layer of makeup.

         “Oh, good, she’s awake,” she says, joining my dad’s side. Then she turns to me with a stern expression. “Young lady, do you have any idea how much trouble you’ve caused everyone these past few days?”

         “Kris,” my dad scolds quietly.

         She continues, clearly not getting the hint. “Your father and I had to fly back from Paris several days early, Ryan and Ellie have had hardly any downtime since they’ve been searching all over the place for you, and you’ve had everyone worried. I hope you’re feeling guilty about ruining everyone’s spring break on top of ruining our wedding, too.”

         “Kristen.” Everyone in the room flinches. Out of my nearly seventeen years of existence, I don’t think I’ve ever heard my dad use that voice with anyone. “She’s been lost in the freezing wilderness with a high fever the past several days, cut my kid some slack. And don’t talk to her that way.”

         She stands, looking shell-shocked. Ryan catches my eye and I can tell we’re thinking the same thing: go Dad!

         Kristen quickly straightens out. “Mike, you can’t just let her off the hook. She’s been causing this family nothing but trouble—“

         “Then maybe you shouldn’t be part of this family,” my dad finally snaps, shutting her up. “My daughter almost died, and you’re yelling at her for ruining your spring break.”

         She looks at my dad with wide eyes, her expression somewhat hysteric. “Are you saying you want a divorce? Already?”

         My dad shrugs. “We’ll discuss it later. Right now I want to spend some time with my kids, if that’s okay.” His voice has a twinge of animosity to it.

         She clenches her jaw and leaves the room, looking like she wants to punch something. Unable to help myself, I grin. Ryan looks down at me and his face mirrors my own.

         “You kids never liked Kristen.” Dad says it like a statement. For a second, I expect him to start laughing, realizing how ridiculously obvious this statement is. Instead, he rakes his hands through his hair, looking more distraught than I’ve ever seen him. “What kind of father marries someone who both of his kids hate?”

         I think he’s asking it as a rhetorical question, so I say nothing in response, my expression quickly sobering as I watch his eyes well up with tears. Another thing: out of my nearly seventeen years of existence, I’ve never once witnessed my dad cry.

         “Daddy . . .” I whisper, unsure what else to say.

         “I am so sorry,” he says, genuineness seeping from his tone. “I haven’t been here for you kids at all since your mom left. These past several years have been hard on me, and I’ve been neglecting to make sure that I’m being there for you two when you need me.”

         My heart breaks a little when a single tear rolls down his cheek.

         “I love you both so, so much,” he says. His voice is thick with emotion. “I’ve been a horrible father, and I hope you can give me a second chance.”

         “Dad, it’s okay,” Ryan interjects.

         “No it isn’t,” he argues, shaking his head. “I’ve been so busy trying to find a replacement for your mom that I forgot that I have two wonderful kids who are growing up right before my eyes. I shouldn’t have been so concerned about getting remarried, because I don’t need a wife. I have all I need right here.”

         “I love you, Daddy,” I blurt out.

         “I love you too, Opal. I’m so glad you’re okay; I don't know what I would do if something happened to my little girl. And don’t listen to Kristen; you didn’t ruin anyone’s spring break. Between you and me, I was having a terrible time in Paris with her.”

         I smile at him and he bends over and hugs me, something that he hasn’t done in a long, long time. I breathe in his familiar scent, my heart filling with content.

         When he releases me, he and Ryan kind of look at each other hesitantly, and for a moment, I wonder if maybe Ryan isn’t going to hug him. But then Ryan walks in his direction and they throw their arms around each other in one of those sloppy guy hugs, and I relax.

         “Can you guys give me a second chance?” Dad asks, looking back and forth between the two of us.

         “Of course,” Ryan says. “It’s never too late to change.” He glances down at me and winks.

         I smile happily, suddenly feeling drowsy. “Thank you for still being here, even though I’ve been kind of mean and awful these past few years. I’m really sorry about how I’ve been, by the way. I promise I’ll try to make it up to both of you,” I murmur.

         “I’m not sure what’s changed since I last saw you, but whatever it is, I like this Opal much, much better,” Dad says.

         “It was the boy who she got lost with,” Ryan says, smirking.

         I neither confirm nor deny this, a small smile still painted on my face. Yawning, I announce that I’m tired.

         “More like you’re trying to get out of the inevitable discussion about you and Jack,” Ryan says smugly.

         My dad smiles. “We can talk about it later. Get your rest, sweet pea. If you need anything, we’ll be right in the waiting room.” He leans down and kisses my head. “I love you,” he whispers a final time before stringing an arm loosely around Ryan’s shoulders and leading him out of my room, leaving me alone.

         I bite my lip, trying to ignore the fuzzy tingles that make my stomach feel warm. This moment is almost perfect. If only one key member of our family wasn’t missing from the action.

         I lift the wrist that doesn’t have an IV protruding from it to look at my charm bracelet, only to be greeted by the sight of bare skin that lacks a particular golden bracelet. I touch my wrist, just to solidify the fact that there’s nothing there, only to be reaffirmed that it’s gone as my fingers brush my soft skin.

         My spirits feel like they’re collapsing in on themselves and I frown. Could I have lost it in the woods?

         A cry nips at the back of my throat but I choke it down, not wanting to deal with a nurse coming in to check on me. My one and only remaining tangible piece of my mom, gone. It’s like that bracelet was the only connection I still had to Mom, and now that it’s gone we’ve been officially disconnected.

         At least I have my dad and Ryan, though. It’s weird, I feel like I’m losing my mom but gaining my dad and Ryan at the same time. And maybe that’s how it should be. No matter how much I will her to come back, she’s in Africa to stay and continue helping out at the orphanage.

         And some charm bracelet isn’t going to change that, anyway.

         I recline back and let my eyes flutter shut, feeling naked without the one piece of my mom that I thought was safely protected from leaving and also craving Jack’s proximity. I try not to think about him but no matter what I do, he keeps venturing back into my mind, a new constant that I can’t shake.

         I sigh, my stomach inflating with each passing second that I expel the oxygen from my lungs. You know how in movies, there’s always that defining moment where everything changes and you know that things can’t go back to being the way that they were?

         This is my moment.

         And I am absolutely terrified of what the future has in store for me.

*  *  *  *

Author's Note: All hail section breaks, which I totally utilized the heck out of this chapter, can I get an amen? Also, the whole Lily confession with Jack was kind of a spur of the moment thing. I just felt bad that he had never had a girlfriend or anything before Opal and decided to give him at least one romantic encounter. Also, my knowledge about hospitals is very, very limited, so hopefully I at least kind of accurately described those scenes? Literally the last time I've been in a hospital was for my little sister who had Down syndrome when I was 4-5 so I'm not very experienced (here's to hoping it stays that way). But Ryan and Lizzy were in this chapter <3 I know you guys don't know much about them because this is Opal's story, not theirs, but in my mind they went on this whole little adventure thing of their own together while they were looking for Opal and I'm seriously tempted to write a spin-off of this story about them once I finish this, no joke. And also, I was only half awake when I wrote some of this, so you'll have to let me know if anything sounds weird or if there are any mistakes. Two more chapters after this! But yeah I need to shut up now but let me know know in the comments below whatchu thought and all that good stuff and have a BRILLIANT day :)