“I could have held on.”
“How? You with one good arm versus a demon octopus straight out of theMines of Moria? Even Gandalf barely made it out of that one.”
“She was so scared. And now she’s gone because I?—”
“There’s noIin that statement, Twig. She’s not gone because of you. She’s gone because of Seraphina. And Rafe. And evil.”
“We can’t even talk about it.”
His words come like a punch to the gut—an iron fist of truth. Here lies the heart of it: We know what happened. And we’re sitting on our hands like cowards. Afraid we won’t be believed. Afraid we might be blamed.
Don’t Lainey and Ivy deserve better?
Callie, too?
I imagine if things had gone differently. If Twig hadn’t found the ruby. If there’d been no way to bring Jude back to life. The thought takes my breath away. But I don’t run from it. I force myself to consider the scenario. Jude, gone. The paramedics taking him away, not on a stretcher, but in a body bag.
Would I really stay quiet?
He broke a curse that burned Foggy Hollow to the ground, threw a whole train off the tracks, and snatched four Vandenbergs from their dinner table. He stopped Seraphina from rising, more terrible and mighty than ever before. Would I really let the public believe he died because of a prank gone awry, when in truth, he died to save me, to save our whole town?
The thought is so vile, so despicable, it makes my bones hot.
We’ve been dragging our feet, unsure how to return to this thing we’ve always loved. Telling spooky stories. Chasing mysteries. Spinning theories. Embracing the unknown.
But maybe a shift is in order.
Maybe this season, we try something new.
“What if wedotalk about it?” I say.
Twig looks at me.
“What if we tell the truth on our podcast?” I set my elbows on the table. “The whole thing, from beginning to end.”
His brow furrows. “Our listeners will think we’re crazy.”
“And the police might knock on our door,” I concede.
“Mom will freak out.”
“And I’m sure she’ll tell my dad.” I shrug. “But the truth will be out there, for those willing to hear it.”
Evil came to Foggy Hollow.
Evil took some of our own.
But evil didn’t win.
Twig’s gaze meets mine, and for the first time since that monster almost dragged him through the rift, his eyes twinkle with life.
He gets out his laptop, and we begin.
60
NOT ALL WHO VANISH STAY GONE
Cold nips at my nose as I jog through the woods. Jude and I locked the crypt and covered the door. I told him about the plans Twig and I made, knowing they would go nowhere without his consent. We won’t tell a story that features his family, that features him, if he doesn’t want us to. But Jude agreed. He might even be a guest.
