The Alchemy of Forever

golden tan.
    “I really have to go,” I repeat.
    “Of course, of course. Please go to English. Thank you again for the information.”
    I nod, then pick up my backpack and head for the door, feeling his eyes on my back. I wait till I’m in the safety of the quiet hallway to exhale.

twenty-five
     
    I spend the rest of the day in a fog, making mistakes in trigonometry and not hearing my—Kailey’s—name called in history. After school, Noah drives me home and asks me if I want to join him on a walk through the neighborhood. I tell him no, that I’ve got to study. He tries to act like it’s no big deal, though I can tell he’s hurt. But I can’t be around him right now. I can’t be around anyone.
    I go straight to Kailey’s room and close the door. Cyrus may not know who I am now, but it won’t be long before he figures it out. Either way, I’ve got to run. Tonight. I pull Kailey’s backpack out from under her bed and start packing for an escape, my hands shaking. I throw in clothes and stop. I don’t have anything I’ll need—no fake ID, no cell phone. I think about taking Kailey’s iPhone, but worry that will make me easy to track by the Morgans. I look in my wallet and count the cash I’ve made at the antique store: only $160. Kailey must have money somewhere, I figure, and start tearing apart her room. I find random twenties under her bed and hit the jackpot in a little box in the back of her closet. A bunch of birthday cards from her grandparents are stashed there, along with a roll of money—$360 in total. I wonder briefly what Kailey was saving up to buy; perhaps art supplies. Or maybe something related to why she was in Jack London Square the night she died.
    It won’t last long, but it will be enough to get me away from here. On impulse I grab the framed photo of Noah and Kailey from the dresser. When I realize I’ll never see Noah again, my throat closes and my eyes grow thick with tears. I fall onto Kailey’s bed and cry, staining the green silk coverlet with darker green splotches. I let out all the tears I never let myself shed, the tears that began gathering the night I ran away from the coven, the tears of being alone, being scared, having no one in the world I can confide in. I cry for Noah, the boy who was Kailey’s good friend for years and years, who came to care for her—for me—as something more, who will lose her the next day. His family falling apart, and him with no one to talk to. No one to hold his hand.
    I cry for Leyla: sunny, quirky Leyla, the girl who’s always got a snappy retort, whose best friend will disappear. What will this loss to do her? I cry for Charlotte, who I’ve already lost. And I cry for the Morgans, who have been so kind to me. Who have, unknowingly, taken in the girl who failed to save their daughter’s life and showed her what a family can be like.
    The sobs grow stronger. I realize I can’t remember the last time I cried like this; it may have been hundreds of years. I cry for myself, for the fourteen-year-old who caught the alchemist’s son’s eye, then died by the river. The girl who could live forever but never grow up. I cry for all the girls I’ve taken, the lost girls, the girls whose families never saw them again.
    Finally, my tears are spent. I’m dehydrated from crying, so I go to the kitchen and grab a glass, filling it with water and gulping it down at the sink. I’m halfway through refilling it for another drink when I hear a voice behind me.
    “Can you think of a five-letter word for ‘giraffe relative’?” Mrs. Morgan is seated at the table in front of a crossword puzzle, tapping the eraser of a dull pencil thoughtfully against her lips. “Second letter is K . At least, I think it is.”
    “Let me see it.” I glance at the puzzle. “Try ‘okapi,’” I tell her.
    She raises her eyebrows. “You’re right. I don’t think I’ve ever heard that word before in my life.” She sighs, then looks up at me.
    “Are you okay? Your eyes are all red.”
    “Must be allergies,” I say, taking a sip of water. “You’re home early.” I change the subject.
    “I know. My afternoon meetings got cancelled, so I left. I’m not sure what to do with myself. Hey, want to go shopping or something? I mean, if you have time.” She’s hopeful, but guarded.
    Watching her, I realize she’s used to Kailey turning her down. I doubt “hanging out with Mom” is high on any teen’s list.
    “Sure,” I reply.
    “Really? Okay,