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“Just give her time. But not too much time,” he added after a beat. “You let her go too long and she’ll withdraw completely. I really think you two reconnecting could help. Don’t give up on her yet.”
Connelly scoffed. “When have you ever known me to give up? I’m headed to her place as we speak.”
“Oh.” Arthur’s laugh sounded a lot like a relieved exhale. “Good.”
“But I doubt she’ll even open the door.”
“Nonsense, my boy. I have a feeling she’ll hear you out this time. And if she shuts the door in your face, just try again tomorrow. Be patient with her. She’s been through a lot.”
“I know.”
“And Connelly, if I may give you a piece of advice?”
“Of course,” he said, grateful for any guidance he could get.
“Don’t let this writer’s block get the best of you. You’re too talented for that. The darkness is still inside you, waiting to be unleashed. You just have to find the right key to unlock it.”
Connelly’s chest tightened with emotion. Arthur had always been a mentor to him, both in writing and in life, and the thought of losing him to cancer was almost too much to bear.
“Thanks, Arthur. I’ll keep that in mind.”
“Good. Now go talk to our Vee. And write something that’ll make my skin crawl, will ya?”
With a fond smile, Connelly ended the call and gazed up at the darkening sky, watching as heavy clouds rolled in over the peak of Mt. Humboldt, which locals called Murder Mountain. A distant rumble of thunder echoed through the valley. It made the hair stand up on the back of his neck. Northern California was like Seattle—they didn’t get many thunderstorms—and he couldn’t help but feel like the one rolling in now was an omen of bad luck.
The canopy of trees blocked out much of the afternoon sunlight, leaving a dappled pattern on the ground beneath him. Wind rustled through the leaves, but rather than energizing him with its freshness, it seemed to whisper caution. The birds were quiet as he continued down the path and his footsteps crunched in the stillness.
Usually nature brought him inspiration, but something about this place left him unsettled. It had an undercurrent of foreboding that should exhilarate him, but instead felt like a fingernail scraping uncomfortably down his spine.
He glanced over his shoulder at the warm glow of his rental, before tugging up his collar against the wind and trudging reluctantly down the beaten path toward Veronica’s. He already felt himself bracing for disappointment as the cabin appeared through the trees, its windows dark and unwelcoming.
Connelly took a deep breath and knocked on the door.
For a moment, there was no response, and he was about to give up and turn back when he heard a faint shuffling from inside. Then, the lock clicked, and then another, and another, and the door creaked open slowly.
Veronica peered out, her face so carefully blank it might as well be a mask. “What do you want?”
He held up his hands. “I just want to talk.”
She looked like hell. Her dark hair was wild and unkempt, her eyes red-rimmed and swollen. She wore a baggy sweatshirt and leggings, as if she hadn’t bothered to get dressed all day, and the smell of alcohol on her breath was palpable.
“I don’t want to see to you,” she said, trying to slam the door shut again.
But he put his foot in the way, blocking it. “Please, Vee. Talk to me.”
“Talk about what? How you used me for inspiration? How you turned my trauma into your next bestseller?”
“That’s not what happ?—”
She slammed the door, catching his foot before he could remove it. His old hiking boots were sturdy enough to muffle the pain, but it still fucking hurt.
Cursing, he limped back a step. “I’m not leaving until we talk about this. I know I fucked up, but I want to make it right.”
“I don’t care,” came the muffled response from inside. “Just leave me alone.”
Connelly sighed, leaning his forehead against the cool wood of the door. He couldn’t blame her for hating him—after all, he had used her story as an inspiration for his latest novel.
But he also knew it wasn’t just about the book. Their friendship had died the night her life had changed. The night he’d let his own foolish pride keep him away when she most needed him.
