Chapter 21

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The world or my heart. One of them.

Something stopped and my eyes forgot how to blink and my throat how to swallow.

Because this is impossible.

My eyes scan the characteristics of the face I recognize among thousands. The black eyebrows, angular jaw lines, the black hair that falls over his ears.

Impossible.

His eyes light up when he sees I recognize him, but he doesn't move.

Unable to stop myself, my gaze lowers, along his broad shoulders. The fabric of his jacket stretches around his upper arms. The line on his shirt: Life's short talk fast, that causes a muscle in the corner of my mouth to tremble.

Down and down, along the left hand, that shapes itself into a nervous ball then spreads it's fingers again. And the right hand, that holds a crutch with so much strength, I can see all the way from here how the knuckles are dead white.

A crutch, not a wheel.

Somewhere in my brain, that melted, it's noticing that tiny, yet oh so important detail.

No wheel, but a crutch. A crutch to support him. A crutch that stands up tall. Just like him.

And then I faint.

Yes, I know, very cliché. I think I held my breath for too long, because all of a sudden the world turned black and now there is a screaming Isla bent over me, because apparently I also fell off my chair.

At once my eyes shoot back to the place he just stood.

Where he still stands, on two legs.

My brain filters out Isla's unending stream of questions, but this time I make some effort to keep conscious.

Sorley is here.

He's just standing there, with in his eyes the most fragile expression I have ever seen and before I know what I'm doing, I get up and run to him. His one arm locks me against his chest and when he stumbles a bit, my legs catch our weight.

"Wow, gently, I haven't quite found my footing yet."

That voice, the light Irish-American accent that I still hear in my dreams, now sounds close to my ear and a hysterical laugh-cry escapes my throat.

"You're here!"

"I'm here. And so are you, thankfully. It was the only place I knew for sure you ever visited."

"How?" I take a step back, happy that his arm moves with me and doesn't let go. My right hand holds onto his open jacket for dear life and the other gestures spastically up and down in the direction of his legs. "How?"

My vocabulary shrunk.

"Your idea."

His left hand moves up, touches my cheek and my eyes flutter shut. I don't care who's watching or how much gossip is going on at the moment. Even if they put the whole thing on YouTube to get views, I don't mind one bit.

"Your amazing idea, that I responded to like a bloody lunatic. You were a genius and me a complete idiot."

I stare at him, blink my eyes, blink again and think how stupid it is that I forgot the title of the book I'm reading now. Because this isn't real. That can't be. I'm paper walking, or it's a dream.

"Eh, Zaar?"

I jump ten centimetres in the air and shriek when Isla is suddenly next to me.

She says nothing, yet her expression makes it very obvious that she very urgently needs a whole lot of answers. I burst out in a fit of giggles, but almost immediately tears run down my cheeks.

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