Let It Be

Chapter 15: The Truth, Part II

I woke up in an unknown location with a headache. An old patchwork quilt covered me as I lay in a large, soft bed. A single lamp was on against the nighttime darkness. I was so comfortable, I thought about just going back to sleep, but there was something niggling at the back of my brain. Something I needed to remember...

Oh.

Sam.

I started upright, and found the boy in question sitting in an armchair next to the bed, sketching. He looked up when I climbed out of bed and hurried over to him, putting my hands on him, needing to reassure myself that he was alright. I touched his chest. Everything was fine. No wound, no scar, nothing to show that what I thought had happened really had occurred. Maybe I had just dreamed it all? I must have, right?

But no. There was a hole torn in his shirt, right where the knife had pierced it.

My fingers still on his chest, I met his eyes. "It really happened?"

He gave a barely perceptible nod, his already gentle eyes softening. "It really happened."

I shook my head, not in refusal of his words, but instead marveling. I brought my fingers to where he had been struck with the knife in his neck. His stubble brushing my skin, I titled his head so I could get a better look at where the wound should be. Again, nothing but flawless skin.

Astounded, I sat back down on the bed. "You're really immortal."

He paused. "Yes. I am." He halted again. "Both Emile and I are."

"No matter what happens, you can't die."

Sam sighed, leaning back into the leather armchair. "No, no matter what happens, I cannot die."

They couldn't die. "Have you gotten away with things where you should have died?"

He nodded against the chair. "Many times."

My eyes widened. "Like what?"

"We do not have to do this tonight, Abby. You have heard, and seen, so much already. There is all the time in the world to continue this conversation."

I considered. I had no idea what time it was, but it had to be late. I'd gotten to Sam's around midnight, and after our talk, who knew how long I was out? Birdie must be worried. But I wasn't about to leave without knowing everything there was to know.

"No. I want to do this now. I want to get it all out in the open. Tell me, how have you gotten away with death?"

He sighed, rubbing his hand over his face. "I have been shot, stabbed, strangled. I have fallen, falls should have crushed me. I have survived plane crashes, train crashes, others. I have been burned, suffocated, drowned. And here I am."

"Whoa." That took time to comprehend. Somehow that was harder to take in than anything else he'd said. I laid back on the mattress, just staring at the ceiling. "So, where do I fit in with this?"

"Well, you were unaware of the whole situation up until this afternoon."

I turned my eyes to him without sitting up. "And now?"

"Now you have the opportunity to become an immortal being like us."

Excuse me? "Wait, what?" I cried, sitting straight up. "Why?"

"Because you fell in the bathtub."

Again, not what I was expecting. "What, is it some sacred bathtub?" I mocked, then realized that it wouldn't really surprise me if it was. Everything else was so weird-- it was a serious possibility.