“You think Arnold’s buried there?” I asked.
“The location could explain its quick recharge,” she said.
“It’s worth a shot.” Octavia tugged Frog in that direction. Kat followed without prompting.
The elm tree stood on top of a small hill. The surrounding air buzzed with the smell of smoke, as if lightning had struck here one too many times. I glanced at December, wondering if she picked up the same thing. She offered me a solemn nod.
“See that?” Octavia dismounted and held out her hand to help December down.
“Marker.” December hurried to the base of the tree where a weathered wooden cross leaned over in the dirt.
I took a little longer to catch up, untying the shovels from Kat’s back.
“The grass is different here.” December dropped to her knees, fingers pressed into the earth. “Drier.”
It didn’t look any different to me, but I’d take her word for it. I offered them shovels and then pulled out my walkie.
“Hey, we think we found it,” I told the guys. “Come back. You’ll see us before you get to the lake.”
“That fast?” Static challenged Nico’s voice. “You sure?”
Octavia and December started digging. Though I couldn’t make out the difference in grass before now, underneath the surface lay lighter, grittier dirt.
“Positive.” I shoved the walkie back on my belt and joined in on the digging.
FOURTEEN
Our shovels hitthe coffin just as the truck pulled up behind us. The lights were on, shining brightly to replace the long-gone daylight.
My lungs burned as I sucked in the sharp, crisp air. There hadn’t been time to empty my stomach of its content like my body so craved. No time to ask the million and one burning questions I now had buzzing through my head. Or inquire about every little device Rae wore on her waist.
“Nico, Jonah!” Rae called as she shed her jacket. Her arms flexed, and I could practically feel the support they offered me in the void. They carried that same unwavering strength now as she stood in the grave we’d half dug up. While the guys pitched in to shovel out the rest of the dirt, I went to open the truck’s passenger door where Wilson sat. My shirt was heavy with sweat, throat burning from my injury and heavy breathing.
“How’s it looking?” He’d swung himself over, so his legs hung out of the truck.
“Good,” I said. “We found the coffin. Or…a coffin?”
“The,” he said in hopes of manifestation.
“How many people do you think are buried on the ranch?” This could turn into a multi-day search unearthing skeletons.
“I’m putting it out into the universe that it’s just the one.” Wilson reached for my hand, capturing my full attention with it. “You’re not sleeping upstairs after this. We’ll convert the dining area into a room.”
“With all your manifesting, after tonight, we won’t have to worry?—”
“Even if we get this thing, I want you where I can see you. Where can I help.” He squeezed my fingers tight before letting go. “At least for a couple of weeks. Maybe months without incident.”
It’s as close to a teary-eyed, runny-nose hug as we’ll ever get. As close to anI love yououtside of a birthday or long road trip apart. “Via, you’re…”
All I have left. The only person who knew what it was like to live with our parents. The only one who understood what it was like to be loved but not prioritized by them. The one person who knew the toll of going so many places but being no one while in them.
“So are you,” I promised.
“Here!” someone’s voice called.
“Oh, I hate this part,” another one of them lamented.
“Go on,” Wilson said, not meeting my gaze as he nudged his chin toward the group. “Make sure they finish the job right. Dinner’s probably still warm.”
