The Passed Note Issue 7 June 2018 | Page 38

mean I’m not dead?” A spark of hope flared across his face.

“No, you’re definitely dead,” I answered too forcefully.

He flinched.

“I’m sorry. You wouldn’t have separated from your body if you hadn’t passed. You only leave when there’s nothing left to hold on to.” Corbin pulled his hands away and dipped his head into them.

“Okay, uh, okay,” I said, standing up and trying to think of what to do. “Maybe you need to be alone for a minute and reflect for the light to appear.” It sounded ridiculous, but I needed to think. “I’ll step into the hallway for a moment, and we’ll see.”

I twisted the doorknob and searched my brain for what this could mean, why there was no light. I sensed a presence behind me. Corbin stood a breath away from me.

“You don’t need to follow me just yet,” I assured him.

“Actually, I think I do.”

My gut dropped. He was tied to me. He would follow me the way I followed the Indian boy. He was stuck. Like me.

“Oh, Corbin,” I whispered. Guilt washed over me like sticky, bubbling stew.

“What?” he asked.

“You’re a Ferryman. You’re going to do what I do.”