Free Into the Fire by Ashelyn Drake Page A

try.” She waves goodbye, shutting the door behind her.
    I turn to Jeremy, feeling full of life. He’s slumped on the couch with one leg up on the coffee table and his arm behind his head. I can’t help thinking of Rob. Please, don’t turn out to be anything like him. Jeremy is suffocating in this house. If he doesn’t get some human contact soon… “How do you feel about a field trip?”
    He sits up straight and stares at me to see if I’m serious. “What do you mean? You’re the one who just told me to get back inside because someone might see me. Now you want to take me out in public?”
    I shrug. “Yeah, well, playing basketball is a little much for someone supposedly recovering from mono.” I step closer to him, testing his emotions. He doesn’t back away. Good. “I’m proposing a picnic at the falls. I doubt anyone will be there.” Just Logan at one o’clock.
    “Really?” His eyes light up, and he springs to his feet to shut off the TV. “When do we leave?”
    “As soon as we make the sandwiches.”
    His face scrunches up. “Does it have to be turkey and Swiss?”
    “No. I was thinking we’d go old school. Peanut butter and jelly. Crunchy peanut butter, of course.”
    I put on Jeremy’s favorite song while I make the sandwiches. He doesn’t remember it at all, but I refuse to let that ruin my mood. So far today’s been good. No fevers, no burning people. Maybe Linette’s right. Maybe I’ll get control over my body temperature. Maybe I can enjoy the last month of my first life. It’s better than dreading my rebirth.
    “Ready?” I ask Jeremy as I pack up the sandwiches.
    “You have no idea.” He stares up at the ceiling like he’s saying a silent prayer.
    “You always used to do that!” My voice goes up an octave. “Whenever you really wanted something, you’d look up. Mom used to say you were sending your request to a higher power.”
    “So I did that right?”
    My good mood dies a little. “You don’t have to ask if what you’re doing is right. Do what feels right. Even if it’s not what you did in the past, it’s okay.” I say the words just as much for me as for him. I can’t make him be the same Jeremy again, and I can’t expect myself to be exactly the same in a month, either.
    On the drive to the falls, I point out all the places we pass. “That’s the way to Monique’s café, up the road there.”
    “Monique is one of us, right?”
    “Right.” She’s in his memory book. We never know when we’re going to need to move, so most of the photos in the books we make are of family. Monique’s been an honorary member since Jeremy was in diapers. She even moved here before us to scout out the town. After she met Mr. Baker and Linette, we knew this was the place for us—even if only for a while.
    “She’s a great cook, too.”
    “Of course Mom told you that. If you forgot, Monique would be crushed.”
    “I’ll pretend I remembered on my own, then.” He smiles at me, but it fades quickly. “I really wish I could remember more about you, Cara.”
    “Don’t.” I shake my head and focus on the road. I’m having a good day. I don’t want to ruin it.
    “Bet you’re wishing I was a bratty little brother who ruined your life, huh? Then you wouldn’t miss the old me.”
    “I don’t wish that. I wouldn’t change anything. My childhood was great, and a lot of that is because of you. You never remembered Dad because you were too little. But I remembered him for a while, and whenever I was scared or I missed him, I’d crawl into your bed with you and I’d feel like he was still with us. Mom says you’re a lot like him.” I feel the tears coming, threatening to end what little happiness I’ve had.
    Jeremy turns and stares out his window. I feel awful for bringing up Dad. Forcing these memories on him doesn’t seem fair—to either one of us.
    I wipe my tears. “Did Mom tell you about the falls?”
    “That’s where you went yesterday, right?”
    “Yeah. I