Page 1 of In Her Eyes

Prologue

AVALON

The first timeI died was at my birth. No oxygen entered my lungs as my mother expelled me into the world. My tiny body didn’t shiver as it met cold air for the first time. No cries passed through my blue-tinted lips.

But I had luck and medicine on my side. Doctors and nurses hovered over me and unwrapped the umbilical cord from around my neck. Pressed fingertips into my chest, and butterfly-light touches pumped life into my heart.

My first gasp of air was followed by my first cry.

There was laughter and celebration in the delivery room. But it was short-lived, for one life was traded for another that day. My mother never had a chance to hold me.

I was five the second time I died—a cardiac arrest resulted from some absurdly high fever. They worked on me again. Cooled my body, pumped me full of drugs, machines breathed air into my lungs. The fingertips pressing into my chest, less butterfly, and more thumping bird. They blamed it on a virus—the catch-all culprit doctors blame for all the ailments they cannot explain.

The third and last time I died, I was thirteen. We were at the beach. I loved the sand between my toes, the tug of the water, the scent of sea and salt in the wind, the distant line where dark green met blue sky on the horizon. The ocean called to me with a siren’s whisper.

I didn’t scream or try to escape when the first wave took me in, lifted my feet off the ground, and robbed me of breath. I didn’t know how to swim, but instinct had me kicking my legs, moving my arms, seeking the light just above the watery prison.

I kicked and kicked, but the ocean didn’t let me go.

Not until he dragged me out of it.

Not until again there were hands at my chest, pressing harder this time. And lips against mine, pushing air into my lungs untilhisbreath was my breath, andhisgift of oxygen forced the water away. I sat up coughing, saltwater burning my throat, coating my mouth as it left my lungs and stomach.

I opened my eyes to the beautiful face of a young man. A young man with two different-colored eyes. One green like the sea and one blue like the sky. The first time someone’s lips touched mine was to give me the gift of life. I was just a child, on the cusp of womanhood, but I knew I would never forget those eyes.

Chapter1

Avalon

“Come on,please? Come with me. You don’t have to touch anything.” Lynn holds her palms together as if in prayer. Eyes wide and lips in a pout, like she's a first grader instead of their twenty-eight-year-old teacher.

She’s lying. And she knows I know she’s lying. She’ll want me to touch everything.

My gaze bounces between her and the antique shop across the street from the café we’re in. Morning light streams through skylights. The low hum of conversation fills the bright space. Hanging flower baskets filled with begonias, fuchsias, and lantanas add pops of color throughout the room.

I inhale the heavenly scent of coffee before taking a sip from my mug. “Don’t beg, Lynn. It doesn’t look good on you. No one with working eyes would ever believe you really mean it.”

Lynn points at herself. “Wrong. These baby blues and pink pouty lips work wonders to get what I want.”

I snort. “With horny guys, maybe.”

“Hey, they’re eager to please me. Don’t diss until you try it.”

I roll my eyes. If I could put a mileage counter on eye-rolling, mine would be in the thousands—every single mile caused by my best friend.

“I don’t want to go in there. I’m on vacation.” My words mean nothing. Lynn can always bully me into doing what she wants.

She cuts her stack of blueberry pancakes in half and gives them to me. “Only you would call driving aimlessly through New England a vacation.”

I trade her pancakes for half of my avocado and cheese omelet. “Not aimlessly, carefree. No schedules, no set dates. And we’re here now, in this quaint beach town.” I gesture at the window and the tree-lined street and its colorful storefronts, each more inviting than the next. People walking their dogs and cars driving by slowly. It’s a postcard-perfect little town. “When I told Grandma I wanted to go on a road trip with you, she suggested we go to Ocean Cove. Give it a chance. It’s only day one. We have nearly two months to do whatever we want before we both have to go back to work. If we get bored here, we can just go somewhere else.”

Lynn sighs and slumps back in her chair. “Yes, but when you said we should go on a summer-long vacation together, I was thinking of Paris or London.”

I cut into the pancakes. “I know, but I wanted to take the same trip Grandma took with my mother when she was a kid. Do the kind of stuff I’ve never had a chance to do.” Lynn makes a sad face at the mention of the mother I’ve never met. Her absence shouldn’t bother me, but sometimes it does. This trip is in part a way to connect with her.

Lynn breaks into a big smile, and I know trouble is coming. “I’m calling the best friend card.” She holds an imaginary card above her head like we’ve been doing since we were ten.

I slouch into my chair. Stay still. Try to blend in with the furniture. My gaze finds the exquisite pastries lined in neat little rows behind the glass case.

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