The Edge of Everything (Untitled #1)(99)

“I asked Banger the same thing,” said Zoe.

“I am ashamed to say that I never did,” said Ripper. “The pain kept me from it. But Jonah has put me in mind of Alfie and Belinda, my own little boy and girl. They were so, so lovely, and deserved so much better than me. I should like to go to New England and find their graves. It might heal me a little to lay some flowers there, and water the grass with my tears.”

“I think that’s a cool idea,” said Zoe.

“Thank you,” said Ripper. “The lords no doubt expect me to flee—and they’ll find a way to haul me back soon enough—but at least there’s no one left on earth they can punish for my misbehavior. It appears there are advantages to having been dead since 1832.”

Ripper was quiet now. She slipped a hand down the neckline of her dress, and withdrew a tightly folded piece of paper she had hidden there.

“X wanted to write you a letter,” she said, “just as you wrote one to him.”

She handed it to Zoe. It was written on a blank page torn from a book in Zoe’s house.

“He begs your forgiveness for the letter being so brief,” said Ripper. “He says that you taught him how to write it—and that you taught him what it means.”

Zoe knew then exactly what the letter would say. She stared at the ratty piece of folded paper. To her eyes, it looked like a flower preparing to open. Her hand trembled just holding it.

She didn’t want to read the letter in front of Ripper. She wanted to be alone. So they said their good-byes, and she watched her new friend stroll down the road in her torn but still glittering dress. There was a light rain falling now, although Zoe couldn’t detect any clouds overhead—the drops seemed to leak down out of the stars.

She didn’t see the exact moment when Ripper disappeared. Suddenly, she was just gone. She must have vanished while walking between one streetlight and the next.

Zoe unfolded the letter, and felt her heart unfold with it.

It was written in pencil, and the point had been pressed down so hard it had nearly torn through the paper.

It was a beautiful letter, as she knew it would be.

It just said: “X.”





Acknowledgments


I would like to thank Jodi Reamer, who’s a truly singular badass—a literary agent with a law degree and a black belt. The fact that she championed this novel was thrilling, humbling, and then thrilling again. Her instincts have been invaluable, as has her unflappable personality. I myself have been known to get kinda flapped.

I’d also like to thank Cindy Loh, who’s an inspiring publisher and editor, as well as an excellent person to have on your team when you need to think up a title and/or order wine. Cindy’s a triathlete who competes in those insane obstacle courses where you throw javelins and scale giant walls of mud. I would say she’s a great multitasker, but I think everything she does is part of the same task: to fully live.

Jodi’s right hand is Alec Shane. Cindy’s is Hali Baumstein. Alec, Hali: they say really nice stuff about you behind your backs.

Thank you to the whole shrewd, funny, welcoming Bloomsbury team. Cristina Gilbert, who runs marketing, publicity, and sales in the U.S., is incredible and surrounds herself with other incredibles. Thank you to Lizzy Mason and Erica Barmash for introducing me to the YA community with such a sunburst of warmth and patience. (Erica: Dallas says he likes you back!) Thank you to Courtney Griffin, Emily Ritter, Beth Eller, Linette Kim, Shae McDaniel, Eshani Agrawal, Alona Fryman, and Ashley Poston. Thank you to the lifesaving folks in managing editorial: Melissa Kavonic, Diane Aronson, Chandra Wohleber, and Patricia McHugh. Thank you to the inspired designers Donna Mark and Colleen Andrews and to the fantastic sales team, with whom I had my favorite meeting of 2016.

Bloomsbury’s global team has been a crucial part of this journey. Thank you to Emma Hopkin, the managing director of Bloomsbury Children’s Books worldwide; to Rebecca McNally, the publishing director of Bloomsbury Children’s Books UK; and to Kate Cubitt, the managing director for Australia.

Thank you to Cecilia de la Campa, the director of foreign rights at Writers House, and to Kassie Evashevski, of UTA, for their ingenuity and dedication.

While I was writing this book, many friends gave me places to work and moral support during difficult times, and I love them for it: Missy Schwartz, Carla Sacks, John Morris, Michael & Sonja O’Donnell, Valerie Van Galder (& Bella!), Stephen Garrett, Maureen Buckley, James Wirth, Chris Mundy, and Nilou Panahpour.

I’m also immensely grateful to my elite team of first readers: Darin Strauss, Susannah Meadows, Radhika Jones, Melissa Maerz, Sara Vilkomerson, and Anthony Breznican.

For conspicuous acts of kindness in support of this book, sincere thanks to Tina Jordan, Kami Garcia, Breia Brissey, Andrew Long, Bonnie Siegler, Jessica Shaw, Kerry Kletter, and Kathleen Glasgow.

Thank you to Erin Berger and Jennifer Besser, who read the earliest chapters and gave me vital encouragement. Erin and Jen are cool in too many ways for me to enumerate, but their generosity floors me.

Thank you to Hans Bodenhamer, a Montana science teacher who answered all my questions about caving and took me on a conservation trip with the Bigfork High School Cave Club. Hans and a fellow explorer, Jason Ballenksy, challenged me to be as accurate about caving—and as respectful of nature—as I could. Any and all mistakes are on me.