His brow furrows. “So why come back now?”
“My grandmother,” I say. “She said she was sick. And she reminded me how your mother died without her family.”
Hopper flinches.
“At least she didn’t say we killed her,” he mutters. “But for the record, we were here with her.”
I blink. “You didn’t give her cancer, Hopper.”
His lips press together, but he doesn’t look at me.
“Who said you killed her?”
“Everyone in town. They swear my brothers and I did it,” he says flatly. “Maddie and I had already moved out here. I saw Mom changing, knew something was wrong, tried to get her to go to the doctor. She insisted she was fine until she couldn’t fake it anymore. But by then . . . it was too late.” He exhales, rubbing his hand over his face. “My brothers came, but?—”
I step closer, instinctively reaching out. “It wasn’t your fault, Hopper.”
His jaw clenches. “Doesn’t matter. Town blames us anyway. We’re Timberbridge boys. Sinners, like our father.” Then he sighs. “So your grandmother used my mother’s death to guilt you into coming back?”
“She’s sick,” I say.
Hopper tilts his head. “You’re Lucy Harper’s granddaughter, right?” he asks. “The high school librarian.”
I nod. “Yeah, but she retired years ago. Bought Cozy Corner Books.”
“We know the place pretty well,” he says. “She always has a book ready for Maddie when we visit.”
Something in my chest loosens. “Yeah, that sounds like her.”
“But she’s not sick,” he adds casually.
I freeze.
“What?”
“She’s fine,” he says simply. “Healthy as ever.”
I gape at him, my mind scrambling. “She wouldn’t?—”
But she would.
She totally would.
My head spins, frustration and affection tangling inside me like a frayed wire ready to spark. I better not find out he’s right, because I swear . . .
Hopper laughs under his breath, the sound low, almost indulgent. “She probably just misses you.”
I drag a hand through my hair, exhaling hard. “Great. So, I came back, risked my life for a lie.”
His amusement fades. His eyes darken. “You think one of them is still here, don’t you?”
My throat tightens. “I know it.” My voice barely makes it past the knot forming in my chest. “Everything that’s happening—it’s not random.”
Hopper watches me, expression unreadable. Then he says, “And then there’s the note.”
My stomach drops. My pulse stumbles.
I whip my gaze to him. “How did you?—”
