Page 69 of One Merciful Moment

Everything looked perfect, exactly how she'd left it when she set off toward town in the truck to deliver the blueberries. She still couldn't wrap her head around the fact that it all happened yesterday in this world, but a lifetime ago in Everstill.

A tear trailed down her cheek. One of many she refused to stop. She would not wipe away the remembrance of Boone. Ever.

She pulled her cell phone from her pocket and stared at the screen. Her thumb hovered over Jillian's name. The number she'd typed in the moment the tow truck driver dropped her off last night. She'd sat on her porch step, shaking, dust still in her hair from going through the veil, and entered the number she'd memorized before she even walked inside.

But she hadn't called.

Part of her was terrified that no one would answer. Maybe Jillian and Moe hadn't made it through the veil. Maybe her time in Everstill hadn't happened. Maybe she'd been knocked out in the wreck and dreamt it all.

She was frightened that if she connected the call, all she'd hear was silence.

She swallowed hard and took a deep breath, puffing out her cheeks. Even her whole body ached as if the wreck had just happened.

That made no sense.

She'd woken up this morning disoriented, tangled in her sheets, reaching instinctively for Boone. Her hand had hit nothing but cold fabric. The emptiness beside her had thrust her into reality.

She wasn't in Everstill. She wasn't in Boone's bed. She wasn't wrapped in his arms.

Yet she could remember exactly how he felt holding her. The smell of his breath. The thrum of his heart.

Ashley stepped deeper into the garden, needing the quiet. She sank onto the old wooden bench beneath the lilac bush. The phone was heavy in her hand.

She needed to know what happened or if she was going crazy.

She inhaled again, wiped her cheek with the back of her hand, and pressed the call button... and held her breath.

The phone rang once. Twice. Three times.

She gripped the phone until her knuckles turned white. The garden blurred in front of her, colors smearing together through the tears falling.

"Hello?"

A sob tore out of her so violently she bent forward, her free hand bracing against the bench as she cried. "Jillian—Jillian, oh my God. Are you—did you make it? Did you—?"

She couldn't breathe. Couldn't think.

"Ashley?" Jillian's voice softened. "Honey, breathe. I'm here. I'm okay."

She cried harder, pressing the phone to her ear, wanting to crawl through it. "Please tell me it wasn't a dream. Tell me Boone was real. Tell me I didn't imagine all of it."

"Oh, it was real," Jillian whispered. "Every single minute of it."

Relief flooded her body. Her legs gave out. She slid off the bench and onto her knees in the grass, the phone still pressed to her ear, her breath shaking uncontrollably.

"Everything you remember is real," Jillian said. "The veil. The storm. Everstill. Boone loved you."

Ashley covered her mouth with her hand, sobbing into her palm. With the knowledge that she wasn't going crazy, an immense grief took hold of her.

She'd lost Boone.

The veil had pulled her away from him, giving her no choice but to leave.

Jillian kept talking. "Moe and I are okay. We're home. First thing this morning, we went to see my mom at the nursing home." She sniffled. "She recognized me for a moment." A pause. "Kallie and Finn are here with us now."

"Kallie made it?" Ashley asked.

"Yes. Everyone is safe," Jillian continued. "We want to come see you. We have something to tell you."