We get into the car and I begin to pull the door shut when a large golden arm swipes through the air blocking me from closing it. Raine and I both suck in startled breaths.

A familiar voice booms in our ears. “You may not shut the door unless Miss Branson is on this side of it with me.”

Xavier grins. “Sorry, kid. Forgot to tell you.”

I turn and look behind me. I face a perpetual stern scowl, but now I know what lies behind it. Something more. “Get in, Hap,” I say. “Back seat.”

* * *

Raine and I hold hands in the front seat. We’ve been on the open highway that hugs the coast for an hour now, the windows down, the brisk autumn air blowing through our hair. We both wear our government-issue charity coats for warmth, a symbol of shameful poverty for so many, a symbol of hope for us. Are the odds with us? Probably not. Two kids out to change the world. Two kids being hunted by a still-powerful man. Not good odds. But the odds have never been with me, and yet, here I am.

With Raine.

She spots a wide sandy beach and pulls the frosted green glass of Liberty from her pocket, still in need of its lost mate. “Do we have time?”

Never enough. Always too much.

But now, as I look into her eyes, the time seems just right.

Thirty Years Later

I hear a soft knock and I pause, listening to see if it came from upstairs. Is one of the boys rapping on the wall? Another weak knock but this one is clearly coming from the front door, which seems unlikely because of the late hour and the drifts of snow that are piling up by the minute. Perhaps a neighbor in need of something?

I cross to the foyer, startling as I swing open the door. “What are you doing out there? For God’s sake, you shouldn’t—” I reach out to pull Jenna inside but she steps back and shakes her head. “Jenna, you can’t stay out there in the cold. You know—”

“I’ve been walking all day, Locke. That’s why I’m here. To walk.”

“But you can’t—”

“It’s time, Locke,” she says forcefully, cutting me off. I finally understand what she’s saying. This isn’t just a walk.

My mouth opens, but no words come out. She’s a Jenna I’ve never seen before. The calm, serene Jenna she’s always been, but a very weary one too. I see it in her eyes, still crystal blue, forever stuck at seventeen, but a fire has left them.

She reaches out, smiles, touching my temple where my hair is tinged with gray.

“I guess you were right,” I say. “It’s all connected. The Bio-Perfect got the message that I want to grow old with Raine. It’s making sure I do. I can’t bear the thought of—” I realize what I’m saying and stop.

“That’s the advantage of progress,” she says. “I, on the other hand, have a first-generation Bio Gel that’s never gotten that message—only the survival one.”

“Jenna, please—”

“Kayla’s in Africa with her husband. She’s so happy, Locke. She loves her work there. She called me last week and I saw she has a hint of gray at her temple too.” Her smile fades. “She’s getting older, Locke. Before I have to face the day that—” She shakes her head. “I’m tired, Locke. No one can live forever and it already feels like I have. I’ve outlived Allys, Ethan, everyone I’ve ever known, but I refuse to outlive my own daughter.”

Her gaze drops to her hands laced together in front of her. “My parents couldn’t face it. Neither can I.” She looks back at me, her eyes hopeful. “No parent wants that. I always knew that one day … one day I’d return to Boston for a last walk in wintertime.” She takes both of my hands and squeezes them with icy fingers. “Now is that time. And I want to share this last moment with someone who knows me—someone who knew me from the beginning. Someone who always made me braver. That’s you. Please, this one last time, come walk with me.”

“Locke? Who’s there?”

I turn to see Raine walking in from the kitchen, large with our third child. She stops when she sees Jenna out in the cold. She knows what that means too. She tries to persuade her to come in, but Jenna is firm in her decision.

“It’s already done. I’ve been outside for hours. I just need a little time with an old friend.” Her voice is fragile.

Raine touches her belly, perhaps understanding more than I can, and walks over to hug her. There are no more words between them, just an exchanged look of understanding. I grab my coat and give Raine a kiss. “I’m not sure when I’ll be back. You’ll be okay?”

“Hap’s upstairs, and Mother and Father are right next door if I need anything,” she says, and she pushes me toward the door and Jenna.

* * *

The wind has stopped like the world has sucked in its breath for Jenna, and snowflakes flutter as delicately as white butterflies in no hurry to land. Jenna hooks her arm into mine as we walk, leaning on me more with each step. We’re the only ones on the street, the only ones with a reason to be out late in weather like this.

“You and me again,” she whispers. “Just like in the old days. Almost.”

Kara’s name doesn’t have to be said. She’s always present.

She sighs, serene and content. “Such lives we’ve lived. Lives we never could have imagined.”

An understatement. “Never,” I agree. “My imagination isn’t that good. But we’re probably not so different from anyone else. We all envision one life and live another, don’t we? I’m probably lucky my other imagined life never came to pass.”