Page 90 of Serenity Falls

‘Yes. I was going out and I forgot something and I went to the wrong house.’

He stares at her. ‘What did you forget?’

She shrugs. ‘I forgot.’

A smile tugs again at the corners of his lips. ‘Right.’ He nods towards the house. ‘Well, a word to the wise. This house is empty. Unoccupied. And the Conservators – you know who they are?’

‘I’ve heard them mentioned.’

‘Right. Well, they look after Serenity Falls, and they don’t take kindly to people snooping around empty houses. Nor does the sheriff. I wouldn’t want you getting yourself into trouble.’ A pause. ‘And I’m sure your dad wouldn’t either.’

Her stomach dives. Fuck. Please don’t tell her dad.

‘Still—’ Miller regards her intently. ‘It was a mistake, right, so we don’t need to tell him?’

‘Yes. I mean, no.’

‘Good.’

She wills him to go away, but now he asks: ‘Where are you off to?’

‘Erm … the cinema.’ She blurts it out, seeing as it was the last thing she and Dad discussed.

‘Oh, well, I’m heading that way. Shall we walk together?’

It’s the last thing Sadie wants to do. There’s something about Miller that makes her uncomfortable. Not exactly creepy. Just kind of unsettling. But she can’t really refuse.

‘Sure,’ she says, trying not to make it sound grudging.

They walk slowly down the street. Miller is using a cane today, Sadie notices. She wonders what he did to his leg but doesn’t really want to ask in case it seems rude.

Trees cast small puddles of shade, but they’re a fleeting respite from the burning early-afternoon sun. Sadie can practically feel her bare shoulders starting to blister, armpits blossoming with sweat. Miller looks cool as an iced cucumber in his long-sleeved shirt and jeans. He glances at her house as they pass.

‘I heard about Frankie’s death,’ he says. ‘That must have been a terrible shock.’

She tries to keep her tone nonchalant. ‘Yeah, it wasn’t exactly a great housewarming.’

He nods. ‘I’m holding a memorial service for his family next week. You and your dad are welcome to come.’

She hesitates. ‘I’m not sure—’

‘It won’t be particularly religious, if that’s what you’re worried about. It’s more to celebrate Frankie’s life.’

‘I’ll mention it to Dad,’ she says, thinking she won’t.

They turn a corner and cross over the road. A slight haze hovers over the tarmac.

‘Did you know Frankie?’ she asks, more for something to say than because she really cares.

‘Not well,’ Miller says. ‘You don’t get many young people in church. It tends to be the refuge of the elderly.’

‘Yeah, Dad always says “the closer people get to death, the closer they get to God.”’

He laughs. ‘Well, he’s not wrong on that one.’

‘I guess Frankie didn’t think he was close to death.’

‘None of us do, and yet we walk in his shadow every day.’ Miller looks up. ‘Even on a glorious day like today.’