Free True: An Elixir Novel by Hilary Duff Page A

That I could live . This proves the Elixir is gone. I don’t have eternal life. I don’t have anything anyone else wants. When I look at it, I know no one’s coming after us, and we can live like normal people. That’s what I want, Clea. I want to live with you, and grow old with you, and one day, a long, long, long time from now, I want to die with you, knowing our souls will be together for whatever comes next.”
    “That’s what I want too,” I say.
    “Then we’ll fight for it, and we’ll hold on tight to every second we have. But if we can’t have that future, if I can’t have the life I want, I refuse to take you down with me. That would be worse than dying.”
    Tears fill my eyes, but I won’t give in. “It won’t happen. You won’t get any worse.”
    “Ben?” he asks.
    “I’ll take care of it,” Ben says quietly. “If it comes to that.”
    Before Ben goes home, he and Sage exchange a very formal handshake, then I hug Ben tightly. “Find a cure,” I say in his ear. “We have to.”
    “We will.”
    Ben’s prognosis scares me, but I’m not convinced it’s inevitable. Old myths and stories aren’t always true. Nico’s body and Sage’s soul have gone through serious trauma, and it only makes sense that they both need time to heal. The memory lapses aren’t a sign of worse things to come, they’re bumps on the road to health.
    Still, they make me think of my own memories of Sage’s and my history, and how they might fade. I don’t dream about my past lives anymore, and part of me mourns the loss of the women I used to be. I start writing down everything I remember about them, and I promise the memory of Olivia that one day, when Sage is healthy and Rayna knows the truth and has forgiven us, Sage and I will go to Italy and have the wedding she was promised, but never got to enjoy.
    I also write about the way Sage used to look. At this point it’s his new face and body that I see when I close my eyes and think about him. His gestures, posture, and soulful eyes don’t look like they’re hanging out on someone else’s body anymore. They look like they belong.
    I have the man I’ve always wanted, but I still wish I had some relic of the man he used to be.
    Then I realize I could.
    The next day I wait until Sage is asleep and call a store that usually doesn’t deliver, but they agree when I offer to pay double. I make sure Sage and I are upstairs when the guy arrives, and fly downstairs before he can catch up and see what I’m getting. I quickly pop the plastic bag from the store into a backpack, so Sage won’t know what it is right away.
    He’s staring out the window when I come in. “Who was at the door?”
    “Delivery. I have a surprise for you.”
    He smiles wickedly. “Will I like it?”
    “I think you’ll like it very much, but first I have to ask you a question. When you imagine yourself, do you see yourself in this body?”
    Sage looks surprised, but he thinks it over. “The truth? No. Every time I look in the mirror I’m surprised . . . which is probably why I avoid looking in the mirror as much as I can.”
    “Good.”
    “Good?” Sage laughs. “Why? Did I spend too much time gazing at myself before?”
    “No. It’s just . . . I want the chance to see what you see.” I plop down on the floor, open up the backpack, and pull out everything I’d had deliveredfrom the art supply store: charcoal sticks and pencils, a pad of paper, kneaded erasers, and a foam brush. I lay each element out on the carpet, one by one.
    “Draw yourself. The way you see yourself when you close your eyes.”
    Sage is the most talented artist I’ve ever known, but he hasn’t drawn at all since he’s been back. I know he’ll be excited for the chance, and I eagerly watch his face for the smile I’m sure is coming . . . but instead he looks at me like I broke his heart.
    “What’s wrong?” I ask. “Did I get the wrong stuff? The guy on the phone said charcoals are perfect for