Lyr woke up in a white room.

A white room with a white ceiling, white walls, and white air. When she breathed in, it felt like ice. She felt like she’d been gone—just like the song—and now she was back. She was the only person who’d come back.

Or maybe she wasn’t. Maybe others had come back, but they hadn’t wanted to talk about it. Well, she wouldn’t talk about it either. Never, ever. She wouldn’t ever talk about it. With anyone. Not even Chloe.

—Lyr?

Lyr turned her head. She looked at the speaker. She opened her mouth. Nothing came out. She closed her mouth, and smiled a little, albeit weakly.

—Lyr? Lyr please talk to me please.

Lyr closed her eyes, then opened them. Was that her name? Lyr? How very pretty, she thought absently. Lyr. Lyr what?

—Lyr, answer me. Lyr, answer me. Lyr…answer me…

Words came out of her mouth now.

—Who are you?