Page 103 of Five

“Five Aston,” she says. “What did you do now?” But her fingers are already pulling on the bow. It slips off and falls into the sand beside her. When she rips the white paper off the box and opens it up, she frowns. “A flash drive,” she says dryly. “Thanks. I’ll treasure it always.”

“Don’t be a silly princess,” I say. And then I hand her my phone and say, “Plug it in.”

She does, and the phone comes to life as the code in the drive activates.

I watch her watch the screen, and then the little icon appears.

“Dead Notes.” She makes a funny face. “What the hell is this?”

“I made the first version of this app back when I was a kid. It’s… kinda morbid and it never took off the way I thought it would. But it makes people feel better.”

“What’s it do?” she asks.

“It’s a messaging system. For loved ones who’ve passed away. You call the cell phone of the person you lost and they pick up. Their voicemail greeting. So people can leave you a message. It’s only one-way, of course. The dead can’t reply. But it makes those left behind feel better. Feel like they can talk to you. And since you’re not really dead, it’ll make you feel better too. Your sisters can call. And you can keep up with them.”

She starts to cry.

I pull her into my lap and let her.

It’s hard to walk away from your life and live in secret. She’s allowed to grieve for her loss, even though neither of us died.

She’s losing everything right now, and I want to make it better.

“Your parents will come,” I say, dragging a piece of hair out of her wet and teary eyes to tuck it behind her ear. “Every year, during their Disney trip so no one suspects anything. And my parents will come too. Kate can come. And Sparrow and Belle. Maybe eventually… one day… we’ll be safe again. We’ll know we won and we’ll leave this place and rejoin the world. But in the meantime, Princess, we’re gonna live our happily ever after right here.”

Safe.

Together.

Till death do us part.

It’s not much, but it’s all I can offer for now.

One day she’ll get the real happily ever after. She’ll get the real wedding. But until then, we’re not gonna give up or stop living.

So I stand up and pull her off the sand so she’s standing with me.

There’s a postcard-perfect sunset tonight. And a cool breeze to go with it.

And I whisper in her ear the only other thing I can think of that might make her smile again.

“Let’s make babies while we wait.”