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I couldn’t help it. I grinned like an idiot and we all followed him down the hallway into Jas’s room. She was sitting up in bed, cradling a small, tightly-wrapped bundle.

“Congratulations, love!” Bridget crooned, heading straight for her and giving her kiss on the forehead. “I’m so proud of you! You did so well.”

Jas looked exhausted. Her face was covered with a sheen of sweat, and her hair stuck to her forehead. Her usually perfectly-groomed blonde mane was tied up in a messy ponytail at the nape of her neck, and her cheeks glowed red. I’d never seen her so happy.

“She’s beautiful,” Bridget whispered, reaching into the bundle in Jas’s arms to touch the tiny red face.

I felt myself gravitating closer, and Bridget moved aside. Jas smiled up at me as I leaned over to kiss her cheek.

“Meet your niece,” she said. “She’s got a healthy set of lungs on her.”

I gazed down into the face of this little girl who was going to change everyone’s lives. It was hard to believe that just hours ago, she had kicked my hand from the inside of Jas’s belly. Now, she was here, with us, and Vinnie was right – she was so perfect.

I ran my fingertip across her cheek. Her skin was so soft and her eyes were closed tight, as if she was trying to sleep. I didn’t blame her. It must’ve been one hell of a ride, if the yelling was anything to go by. My fingertip looked huge compared to her tiny nose. Her hair was downy blonde, and there wasn’t much of it. I wondered what colour eyes she would have.

“Hi little one,” I said, a lump forming in my throat. I wished Henry was here to meet her, too.

Jas’s expression softened, as Vinnie came up behind me. “Thank you,” she said. “For everything.”

“I didn’t do anything,” I insisted. “You did all the hard work.”

She smiled over at Vinnie as he reached over me to gently lay his hand on his daughter’s head. He was completely smitten with her already.

“You kept him calm,” she said, looking back at me. “And you made sure we got here safely. And you all waited. Thank you.”

I shrugged. “As if we would leave.”

“Where’s Maia?” Vinnie asked, looking behind me.

I looked around. I’d assumed she’d followed us in here, but I realised now that she wasn’t in the room. Nor was Alex.

“I don’t know,” I said. “She must be out in the waiting room with Alex. Can I go bring them in?”

“Absolutely! I want them to meet Emily, too.”

Emily.

I faltered, but only for a moment. “I’ll be back in a minute.”

“We’ll be right here,” Jas said, staring down at the face of her sleeping daughter in awe. I don’t think she could quite believe she was finally here, either.

I reluctantly left Bridget cooing over the three of them, and headed back down the hall to the waiting room. I felt lighter than I had in a long time. Things had begun to fall together, in the same way they had fallen apart. Suddenly, without warning. I actually felt like I was walking on air.

But the waiting room was empty. Maybe they’d gone downstairs to buy flowers, or a gift or something? The joy I’d felt moments before began to trickle away. I wanted to share it with her. I wanted her to be part of this moment, part of
us
, all of us. Slightly deflated, I turned around and began walking back to Jas’s room.

That’s when I saw it.

A light, bright and the palest shade of blue, coming out of a small glass window set into the door of the room right beside me. It wasn’t fluorescent, and it didn’t belong here, that much I knew almost instantly. I glanced up and down the hall, but there was no one around. The maternity ward was quiet at last.

Mesmerised, I watched as the light grew brighter, spilling out from around the door and bathing the immediate vicinity in its glow.

My heart performed a graceful but sudden swan-dive from the middle of my chest down to the soles of my feet, and my entire body tingled. A sense of all-encompassing love flowed over me, through me, making my ears ring with the power of it.

It was unlike anything I’d ever felt before, and at that moment, it felt as if time had shuddered to a halt, and that anything was possible. My breath came in small gasps as I reached for the door handle.

Whatever it was that was going on inside that room, I was a part of it and it was a part of me.

Maia/Emily

They that love beyond the world cannot be separated by it.

For death is no more than a turning of us over from time to eternity.

Death cannot kill what never dies.

- William Penn

“AREN’T YOU GOING WITH THEM?”
Alex asked, as Bridget and Heath retreated down the hallway with Vinnie.

I shook my head.

“Why not?”

It was a good question. I wished I had a proper answer for him, but there was something holding me back.

“It’s a family moment,” I said, grasping for a plausible reason. “I don’t want to intrude.”

He nodded as if he understood, which would have been a miracle because even I didn’t understand it. I felt like an outsider again. There was a force holding me in place, keeping me from joining the group, and I wanted to fight it, but I didn’t seem to have the nerve. I slumped back into the chair as their voices died away and mingled with the hum of the hospital lights.

Alex sat down opposite me, putting a bag of food down on the empty chair beside him. I looked over at him, trying to arrange my features so that my disappointment in myself didn’t show on my face.

“You should be in there too, shouldn’t you?” I asked him.

He smiled, and I could feel a familiar tug inside my heart. It was a feeling I usually associated with Heath. He had the same sad smile when he talked about Emily.

“I’m not really ready for all this,” he said with a heavy sigh, the smile dying away.

There was something about being awake at this time of the morning, when the rest of the world was sleeping. Everything took on a surreal glow, and your defences seemed to waver. The truth came out more easily at this hour than it did at any other, and I could see Alex struggling. I could almost hear his thoughts.

How much should I tell her?

He ran a hand through his shaggy blonde hair, then leaned forward, his eyes on the floor. I could feel the discomfort settle over him, an old friend he’d be clutching ever since the disappearance.

“What do you mean?”

“This family stuff,” he mumbled.

The fluorescent lights seemed to hum louder again, filling the silence between us. He looked up at me through eyes that had seen more than they wanted to see, and I could feel it, the ache he tried to hide. I hardly knew him, but it was suddenly as plain as day. I’d seen glimpses of grief before, especially during the past few days, but this was different. It was fresh and raw, yet at the same time, something told me he’d been holding on to this for a long time. It was a part of him, a part he had struggled with in the past and was still struggling with, especially as new life was beginning in the room down the hall.

“You probably know this already,” I said gently. “But you have something really incredible here. You have a family that loves you. They’re always there for you, they didn’t give up on you, and they never will, no matter what. That’s like winning the lottery, isn’t it? I’d give anything to have what you have.”

He stared at me for the longest time, as if he was taking my words, one by one, and twisting and turning them until they made sense. Then he nodded, slowly sitting back in his chair.

“You’re a lot like her,” he said, his eyes locked onto mine.

I wanted to look away, but he held me fast. I knew what he meant, he didn’t need to say her name.

“I know,” I said. “I’ve seen the photos.”

“No, I don’t mean like that. I mean you’re a lot
like
her. The things you say… sometimes you sound just like her.”

Did I?

Don’t jump to conclusions. You don’t know.

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry. It’s a compliment.”

I opened my mouth to reply, but something distracted me. A light, coming from down the hall. It was out of place, brighter than the fluorescent bulbs above us, and bluer. And more, well, natural.

“What?” he asked, following my gaze.

The longer I stared at the light, the more it seemed to grow. Alex and I stood up at the same time, drawn towards it.

“What the hell is that?” he mumbled, as we found ourselves standing in front of a door.

The light pulsated, waxing and waning as if searching for a release. Its pulsing matched the nervous fluttering of my heart. This light was meant for me. I reached for the door and pushed it open, and the glow engulfed us both.

The room shrank in on itself, and then exploded, shattering into a shower of stars above me. It was as if the moon and the stars and the ocean had somehow combined, a symphony of nature calling me home. It cocooned me, flooding me with an overwhelming sense of peace. My body shivered, a delicious feeling of contentment, as time expanded and contracted. My arms outstretched, space slipped through my fingers like grains of sand. The room tilted as the invisible chains of gravity fell away and the floor disappeared, sending me floating skyward.

I closed my eyes and love flowed through me – boundless, ageless, infinite – and all my worries and fears floated away like a feather on a summer breeze. I was complete, my heart filled with joy. Memories rushed back, filling the void inside my head, my heart, my soul. I felt them darting around, searching for their rightful places, the returning residents of a cerebral city. Millions of moments, needle-sharp, tickled my brain.

Everything became clear. I saw it all. I remembered everything.

I knew who I was and where I belonged. I saw my family, my childhood. I remembered kisses and laughter, tears and loss. I saw long days at the beach, learning to surf. Wandering home from school with Jas, sharing a Coke. Seeing my Dad leave the house for the last time. Mum telling stories of dragons and fairies while she brushed my hair. Alex teaching me to ride a bike. Heath walking towards me in the hallway at school. I saw the bonfire on the beach, where I first asked him out. I saw myself giving him my heart, my soul, and a million other memories, small ones and big ones, ones that made me want to laugh out loud, and ones that made my soul ache.

And I saw Joel’s housewarming party.

Fighting with Heath. Alex not answering his phone. Deciding to walk home. Headlights behind me, two guys my age that I didn’t know. Refusing the lift they offered. Trying to run, but not getting far before the car nudged me off the road as if I weighed nothing. Falling into the ditch, a blinding pain in my head, momentarily eclipsing the panic. A face hovering above me. The smell of the car – a mixture of stale sweat, booze and something else I couldn’t put my finger on. Dragging me out of the car and throwing me down the hill. The hard ground, littered with tree roots. Unbearable pain and fear. I’d called out to Heath in my mind, screaming for help even though I knew no sound had left my mouth.

Then, all-engulfing blackness.

I remembered waking up somewhere strange, with the pain gone. I saw a scared girl who looked like me but couldn’t remember her name. And I saw myself here, with Heath.

Heath.

It all became so clear. Hindsight and foresight blended, giving me the picture I’d longed for all that time. It was so obvious. Why couldn’t I see it for what it really was? What was stopping me?

It wasn’t a hospital, it was a waiting room. I was supposed to rest there until I was stronger, until my memory came back, until someone came for me. Then I was supposed to move on.

But I could hear him calling me. It was as if he were on the other end of the phone, but the reception was bad, the wires never really connected. I couldn’t hear what he was saying, but I knew he needed me. I didn’t even know who he was, I just knew I had to find him.

I became a voyager on an open sea, using him as my beacon. I followed the frequency of his soul as it called to mine, my heart slowing or racing, unconsciously matching pace with his. With each breath he took, he was pulling me closer. We were two halves of the same whole, and unless I found him again we were both doomed. It was up to me to save us both, and the knowledge weighed heavy on my mind.