Page 46 of Enter if you Dare: Part Three

“Drop the doctor, Cave.”

I release my fingers, and Evan gasps for air as he steps backward, lifting both hands to his throat. I smirk at him, and he turns to Nixie, waiting to see what she does next.

“I think you should deliver the paperwork to Vincent and let him handle the rest.”

He picks up the folder he dropped, looking back at Nixie. “The paperwork is in order.”

I walk to Valli’s side; she looks up at me, moving her hand from her hip and putting it on my chest to stop me from pulling her into my arms. “Are you okay?”

I nod, but she holds my gaze for a moment longer. When she moves her hand, I turn my back and walk to the cornfield.

I stay in my empty field all night.

Noa came past at dinner time, and when I refused to leave, he went back to the house but told me to come home when I was ready. I nodded, and that seemed like enough. He didn’t come back, and neither did the others. I don’t want to slip back into the old me. I know what I did was wrong, but he protects us. Maybe I have to be okay with that part of myself.

The night passes, and I sit with my back against the post, bare earth around me, almost missing the Christmas trees. Someone has already done a lot of the hard work, as the soil has been turned, ready for the new corn to be sown.

The soil is cold under my hands, and I dig my nails in, feeling the earth grounding me. The Scarecrow is quiet and has been since the facility. It could be the medication they have me on, the sessions with Seth, or it could just be that I finally feel like I deserve the people in my life, that I am safe with them. But yesterday proved he is still there to protect them when I need him.

I reach into the bag of kernels and take out a handful. Standing, I move to the closest section of tilled earth and press one into the soil, covering it, then move on to the next. The sun rises, and I keep planting. While I know I can’t do it all by hand, I can do the first perimeter around the post.

I burned this field to the ground, stood there and watched it all go up in flames. I didn’t want anything if I couldn’t have her, and I thought I had crossed a line I could never come back from. The fire may have taken the crop, but it didn’t take the soil. It has changed and become somewhere things can regrow. And while it may not be the same, it has a chance to be better.

Footsteps approach, but I don’t turn around; I would know the sound of Cipher’s movements even with my eyes closed and underwater. He kneels beside me and looks at the seeds I have just planted. Then he reaches into the bag, takes a seed, and presses it into the earth. We plant together in silence, just the two of us, side by side.

Valli and Noa also come down, and neither of them says anything. Instead, they take in what we are doing, and they each grab a handful of seeds and help.

We plant in near silence, all four of us, which is not something that happens often when Noa is around. The perimeter around the post takes the better part of the morning. Valli is determined, pressing each seed into the ground with a focused glare. It’s the same look she had on her face when Cipher’s mom was trying to teach her ASL: the small lines between her brows creased, but she kept going.

Cipher stays beside me, working at the same speed I do. Noa hums as he plants, which I still class as silence, as it’s his version of quiet.

By the time we meet again, I’m planting the last seed, and I place my hand flat on the soil covering it. It’s done. Noa stands and stretches, making a sound of satisfaction as he looks at our handiwork, which really doesn’t look like we have done anything, but I know we have.

“One second,” Noa says, disappearing toward the groundskeeper’s shed.

As the first sprinkler head comes up—they were installed last year—I look at Cipher, and we both turn to Valli.

“We need to run,” Cipher says.

The water hits us before we’ve even made it three steps. I grab Valli and throw her over my shoulder, since her legs are barely half the size of mine. Valli laughs as we run, and I see Noa standing on the other edge, looking pleased with himself. We are now soaking wet and covered in mud.

Noa realizes what he has done, joining Valli in laughter until I place her down on her feet and make eye contact with him. Noa holds his hands up when he notices what is about to happen. He tries to turn and run, but Cipher is already standing behind him.

“Guys, this isn’t fair. I thought they were on a timer. I swear I set it for half an hour. Back up, big man, I don’t want to have to use my Kung Fu Panda moves on you.”

Valli cackles. “You really think standing with one leg in the air like that will stop them?”

Noa screams as I charge at him, grab hold of him, and race back into the field. His screams turn to laughter as the water sprays us. I don’t stay too long because it’s freezing, but long enough that he is wet.

Valli tells us to hurry because she is cold, and we all rush back to the house. Thankfully Noa forgot to turn the heating down and inside it’s nice and warm. We strip off our wet clothes, and Valli hands us all towels, telling us not to drip water on the floors as we head off to shower. We all do, one by one, after letting Valli shower first.

“Best morning ever,” Noa says with a grin.

“You say that a lot,” Valli sasses back.

“Because I don’t ever think I can top a day, but then we do.”

We sit around the table in our house, in a place I can finally call home, that I want to call home. For the better part of a decade, that was my cornfield, and while it still calls to me, it’s no longer the place I feel is my home.