The Flight of the Silvers (Silvers #1)(30)

“That’s the second time you . . . No, I’m not kidding. I have no idea what’s going on.”

“You’re better off. Trust me.”

They both fell quiet for a few blocks. Theo studied her cautiously.

“Can I ask you something personal, Hannah? You don’t have to answer.”

She shrugged. “Try me.”

“What’s the worst thing you’ve ever done?”

The question didn’t bother her as much as she expected. She chewed her lip in contemplation.

“I had a big emotional breakdown when I was thirteen. I cut myself pretty badly.”

“Your wrists, you mean.”

“Yes.”

“Across the vein or up and down?”

She eyed him strangely. “What does that matter?”

“Well, to me it’s the difference between a cry for help and a serious attempt at suicide.”

Her pleasant buzz began to falter. “I guess it was a cry for help then. Still a horrible thing to put my mother and sister through.”

“What about your dad?”

She looked away. “He died the year before.”

Theo nodded with clinical intrigue. “I see. Suicide?”

“Cancer. Can we please change the subject?”

“Sorry. Didn’t mean to upset you.”

The van sailed through three green lights before Theo spoke again. “I hope you don’t think I was judging you. Believe me, I’m in no position to wag the finger at anyone. I’m a law school dropout, a rehab washout, and an all-around blight on the family tree. If I told you the worst thing I ever did, you’d get the strong and rightful urge to push me out of this van.”

Hannah pulled her gaze from the moving scenery and back onto him.

“I also tried suicide,” Theo added. “Five years ago. It wasn’t a cry for help. It was a full-fledged attempt to end it. The only reason it didn’t work is because apparently, among my many faults, I’m also bad with knots.”

Hannah let out a churlish giggle. She covered her mouth, mortified.

“Oh my God. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to laugh.”

Theo smirked with good humor. “It’s okay. You’re picturing me falling through a half-ass noose, right onto my full ass. That’s pretty much what happened.”

They both fell into dizzy laughter again. Theo moaned and wiped his eyes. “You know what’s even crazier? For all my attempts to kill myself, both quickly and slowly, I don’t even know what did it in the end. I have no idea how I died.”

Hannah’s humor vanished in an instant. She stared at her new companion in deep bother.

“Theo, do you . . . Jesus, I don’t even know how to approach this.”

“Just ask.”

“Do you really think you’re dead right now?”

He stared at her, expressionless, for a full city block. “Okay. This is tricky. I don’t want to upset you again.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, let’s take this step by step. You told me you got hit by a bus . . .”

“No, I said I hit a bus. It was parked. I only dislocated my shoulder.”

Theo sat forward now, his eyes darting back and forth in busy thought. Hannah blinked at him in fresh bewilderment.

“Oh my God. You think this is the afterlife for both of us.”

He held up a hand. “Okay, wait now. Before you mock me—”

“I’m not mocking you, Theo. I just—”

“I was enveloped in a ball of hard, glowing . . . something. And then everything went white. When it stopped, I found myself in this place with glimmering walls and flying trucks. I mean, what am I supposed to think?”

“I don’t know,” Hannah confessed. “I still don’t know.”

“Then how do you know I’m not right?”

In a more sober state, it might have occurred to Hannah to ask the Salgados to settle the matter. Instead she found herself considering the notion that she was in fact riding the jitney to her own eternal judgment. She imagined the panel would deliberate for ten seconds before sending her to the hazy gray place where mediocre people went.

“I’m sorry, Theo. I don’t think you’re right. I’m alive. I’m screwed up right now, but I’m alive. It’s the only thing I know for sure.”

To Hannah’s surprise, the idea only seemed to unnerve him more. He furiously tapped his bracelet.

“I talked to someone,” he said. “I’m not religious at all, so please don’t mistake me for the kind of person who sees angels everywhere.”

“Go on.”

“He found me at the bus station this morning. He was fierce-looking and—I say this heterosexually—very pretty. He said his name was Azral and that he’d never seen so much wasted potential in a person. He wasn’t the first to tell me that, by the way, and he certainly wasn’t telling me anything I didn’t already know. But then he said I was moving on to a new world. That I’d finally make myself useful there. Then he gave me this bracelet . . .”

Hannah listened and nodded. She already had her next question lined up.

Theo shook his head at himself. “God. You must think I’m an idiot.”