By the time we get back to Ella’s, the sun has dipped below the horizon, and the temperature plummets. Inside, heat hits us like a wave.
Julia peels off her coat. “Do either of you have a phone charger, and can I also borrow one of your phones… I should probably call my parents,” she says, winding her scarf. “Let them know I’m okay and tell them…well, maybe not everything.”
“Probably wise,” Lana agrees, collapsing onto the couch with a groan, holding her phone out to Julia.
“Margret, take a seat in front of the fireplace. I’ll be right back.” I slip into the kitchen and return with four steaming mugs of hot chocolate. I hand one to Margret and then Lana, my fingers brushing hers. “For the throat.”
She closes her eyes and inhales the warmth. When she opens them again, her gaze meets mine, soft and unguarded.
Julia disappears to make her call, leaving us alone with Margret, who is lying back in the recliner already dozing in the firelight. Scout curls at Lana’s feet, finally still.
Lana looks at me. “Thank you,” she says quietly. “For being ready to shoot Danny when he grabbed me.”
My jaw tightens, and I feel a muscle twitching in my cheek. “I wouldn’t have missed.”
“That’s what scares me,” she admits.
I set my mug down and turn to her. “What does?”
“How quickly I’ve come to trust you,” she whispers. “We barely know each other, Caleb.”
“Don’t we?” I lean forward. “Sometimes it feels like I’ve known you much longer.”
Her eyes search mine, and I feel a jolt in my chest—electric, inevitable. I’m about to close the distance when my phone rings, cutting through the moment. I pull it from my pocket.
“It’s Jake,” I tell her, regret lacing my tone. I listen, nod, and then say, “He says they’re flying back tomorrow. The roads are clear enough to get to the airport, and Nora’s doing better.”
“That’s good,” Lana says. “Did you tell him about the treasure?”
“Not yet,” I admit. “Some things are better discussed in person.” I run my hand through my hair. “We should get some rest. Tomorrow’s going to be a long day.”
Lana rises and pauses at the door. “Goodnight, Caleb.”
I catch her hand as she passes. “Lana,” I say softly, then, “I’m glad you’re okay.” I squeeze her hand once before letting go.
I get up, grab an afghan from the back of the couch, and cover Margret with it as Julia settles on the couch. She spreadsout a comforter and lies down. “Thanks for the adventure today, Caleb. It was fun. Goodnight!”
“Night, Julia.”
Later, I find Scout asleep by Lana’s guest-room door and think over the day’s events—the mill, Margret’s tears, Danny’s betrayal, that moment almost lost between us. Tomorrow, we’ll face Jake, the town, and Thomas Wolf’s legacy. But tonight, I want only this quiet.
I stand and watch her through the half-open door. She’s tucked under the covers, Scout curled at her side, the hallway light painting her face in soft gold. I fight the urge to go and brush a stray lock of hair from her forehead.
Some questions are better left for daylight. For now, she’s safe, warm, and alive—and so am I. I close the door quietly and head across the hall to Nora’s room, heart a little fuller and a lot more unsettled by what tomorrow might bring.
I fall into an exhausted sleep almost immediately, the day’s events swirling through my mind as consciousness slips away. But my dreams aren’t peaceful—they’re filled with Lana.
She’s walking through the old mill, sunlight streaming through the broken roof and illuminating her hair like a halo. I’m following her, watching the graceful way she moves, the slight sway of her hips. She turns to look at me over her shoulder, a smile playing at her lips, and reaches out her hand.
“Come on,” dream-Lana says. “There’s something I want to show you.”
I take her hand, warm and soft in mine, and she pulls me deeper into the mill. The building shifts around us, growing larger, more maze-like. We’re no longer alone—shadowyfigures watch from the rafters, from behind broken machinery. Margret. Danny. Strangers with hungry eyes.
“We need to be careful,” I tell her, but she just laughs, the sound echoing off the stone walls.
“Don’t you trust me?” she asks, tugging me forward.
“With my life,” I answer without hesitation, and she smiles again, her eyes meeting mine with an intensity that makes my heart race.
