“There is, but I don’t know it off the top of my head. They all have lore; it’s just not always deeply explored.”
“Maybe I should make one,” she mused. “Deeply explore it.”
“You’re going to write a fanfic? About a card you just met?” December asked.
“Is it a meeting? Can you meet intimate objects?” Nico flipped through his deck, lingering on his creatures as if considering a formal introduction.
I don’t think my cheeks had ever hurt from smiling this hard.
“Yes, I’m going to write a fanfic.” Rae held the card out to her cousin. “You're telling me this woman doesn’t deserve a whole four-book series?”
December raised a brow when she got a closer look. “Damn, try eight books. Do you need a co-author?”
“Can we get back to it?” Jonah asked with his cards spread out in his hands. “I think I understand how to win now.”
“Uh-oh.” Nico sat up, redirecting his focus. “What have you got, rookie?”
As everyone took their turn, I waited patiently for them to make mistakes before gently nudging them in the right direction. It was difficult for me to stay still. Not to join in December’s theatrical whoops of victory. Or squeal in delight when Jonah destroyed half my life in one turn. I pressed the cards to my mouth, covering my smile as Nico figured out he could use an enchantment to save his favorite card from the graveyard.
Sitting on the floor playing a game that brought me so much joy over a decade ago wasn’t something I’d ever expected could make me want to race around the house. The team was actually interested in learning, probing about deck making and standard practices. All my dormant energy broke open, a flood of breathless love for something I’d written off for…what was it again? Age? Time? Hopelessness?
“You know, this is the loudest you’ve spoken since the convention,” Rae whispered. We’d been killed by December’s ruthless hand and now sat on the sidelines to watch Nico and Jonah’s attempts to neutralize her. “When you were explaining to me you owned a ranch.”
“Oh?” I didn’t take my eyes off the game; my mouth parted in awe and remnants of laughter.
“It’s nice to hear you.”
I tugged my gaze from the battlefield and onto her. Rae had already been looking at me. I scrunched up my nose, trying to bring lightness to the heavy pressure weighing down my chest. I didn’t want this to end. The game, the day, the sound of people. I could like people. Not as much as horses, but the right ones could come in a close second.
I rested my hand over Rae’s for a second, giving it a quick squeeze to let her know that this all felt fun. It all felt real. And that she’d once again proven me wrong.
TWENTY-THREE
“You should seeour hall of fame.” Maggie Rainwood nearly floated out from behind the register, leading Nico and me to a wall at the back of the store.
We’d gone door-to-door today, like a pair of salespeople. Our typical story about being history buffs obsessed with small towns didn’t give us the in we’d needed. Locals who weren’t as friendly as the Rainwoods gave us side-eyes and closed doors. But learning about the world surrounding Elmwood was the main thing that’d fortify our theories and narrow down the Crossroads or Ancestral dilemma.
“All these people lived here?” Nico leaned in to read a gold plaque underneath a photo of a man with a missing front tooth and a guitar in hand. The bright overhead light made the freshly cleaned and buffed plaque twinkle.
“All past or present locals.” Maggie pointed to a photo of a woman who had a similar wide nose and halo of curls. “That’s my great-great-aunt. She came here and wrote a book about Elmwood. That’s why I knew I wanted to move here, eventually.”
“What’s the book?”
“The Mysteries of Alpine Caverns.” She wiggled her fingers, the multiple silver rings on each one clicking softly. “Very spooky.”
Nico pulled out his phone, turning the screen to me when he pulled up an article about it being on multiple bestseller lists for multiple years.
“Impressive.” I held on to his phone as he followed Maggie. The other tab Nico opened was for the missing-tooth guitar player. The guy had won three Grammys in his heyday.
Success stories stacked up one by one. By the time we needed to excuse ourselves to meet up with December and Jonah, who were interviewing residents on the other side of town, Nico was considering moving here.
“You think it’s just luck?” he asked. “All those folks finding their dream once they’ve settled down here?”
We walked down the grocer’s porch and back toward Main Street. “Could be confirmation bias. Who’s going to get in the Hall of Fame if they’re not winning in life?”
“Sure.” Nico lingered in front of a stationery shop, eyeing the display of planners and rainbow highlighters that I’m sure December would adore. “But their wins aren’t the best blueberry pie at the state fair. One of them became an astronaut.”
“Astronauts gotta come from somewhere.” Though I played devil’s advocate, I subscribed to Nico’s impending conclusion.
