The Alchemy of Forever

to scare me into staying with him, so he wouldn’t have to wander the world alone?
    “I don’t care what Cyrus says,” I reply, watching as a young couple kisses briefly under a streetlamp outside. “I want to know what you think.”
    Reflected in the window, I see the corners of Char’s mouth turn down. It is rare that we flout Cyrus, even in his absence, and it troubles her to do it now. Still, she answers. “I suppose anything’s possible.” She lowers her eyes and whispers, “Sometimes I hope Jack is still out there somewhere.”
    I touch her arm. “I look for my mom, too.”
    We finish our cones in silence, listening to the electric hum of the freezers and the girl behind the counter laughing happily into her phone, unaware that she’s in the presence of two seasoned killers. Then Charlotte gestures suddenly at something scurrying outside. “Seamus from Ireland, 1878!”
    I furrow my brow. “What, that squirrel?”
    “Yes! He was always hoarding food. And his front teeth were abnormally long,” she says mischievously.
    “You are terrible,” I chide with a laugh.
    “You love me,” she says. Her expression turns serious. “Sera, I know you’re nervous about tomorrow. But it’ll be okay, I promise.”
    A lump forms in my throat, and I don’t look at her for fear that I will accidentally give something away.
    “You’ve done this a million times,” she continues. “Cyrus will make sure your new body is perfect.”
    “But don’t you think it’s wrong?” I press. “Who are we to decide who lives or dies?”
    “It’s what we are, Sera. It’s a choice we all made. I wish everyone could be like us.” What she doesn’t say is, “I wish Jack could have been like us.” It had been hard enough to get Cyrus to make Charlotte an Incarnate. He would never have accepted her brother as well.
    “Mmm” is all I say, not wanting to argue with Charlotte on our last night together. It took me six hundred years to come to terms with death. It is not my place to rush Charlotte. “Let’s go home. I’m in the mood to watch While You Were Sleeping .”
    “Ugh, again?” Charlotte groans.
    “Yes! It’s my favorite.” I push myself onto my shaky legs and wave good-bye to the blue-haired girl. She’s so absorbed in her phone call that she doesn’t even notice we’re leaving until the cowbell over the door rattles loudly.
    “Come back soon!” she shouts as she does every time a customer leaves.
    The wind has picked up outside, bringing with it the vaguest hint of fall, a smell I’ve always associated with possibility.
    “Okay, fine,” Charlotte relents, crunching through a pile of fallen leaves on the sidewalk. “We can watch While You Were Sleeping . But then can we watch Casablanca ?”
    “Ugh, again?” I mimic. She elbows me and we both laugh. I hook my arm through hers again and pull her close. “You never know, Char. Maybe Jack is with us right now.”
    Charlotte raises a red eyebrow and smiles wistfully. “Maybe.”
    We walk back to the house. I lean on Charlotte for balance, and I wish this night, and our friendship, could last forever. But I settle for living in this moment. Because even though it took me six hundred years, I finally know better. Time can’t be cheated, not really. Everything—even me, and one day even Charlotte—must come to end.

three
     
    The next morning, the day of my party, I wake to an empty house. I didn’t sleep well. No matter how much I fuss, I can’t get comfortable. The bed’s cool gray sheets match too closely to the sickly pallor of my skin, and my bones jut out through my skin at odd angles now.
    I throw on my white terry-cloth robe and pad through the condo. Its design is modern, all neutral shades, and I fit in too well. In the kitchen I find a pot of hot coffee. Next to it is my mug, laid out by a bud vase holding a single velvety purple morning glory blossom. It is the most colorful thing in the entire place. A note is tucked under the lip of a shiny silver teaspoon. With stiff fingers, I unfold it and see Charlotte’s fine script:
    Good morning, S, I’m out with Amelia. Boys
are at the club. Let’s get ready together later?
    —Char
     
    I pour myself a cup of coffee and take a sip, grateful for the warmth it brings on its path through my body. In the bathroom Cyrus and I share, I stand in front of the mirror and let my robe fall away from my body, regarding myself without emotion. I am too thin, ribs prominent on my sides and