Page 66 of Where Roads Lead

But I think it had the opposite effect.

My phone rang again, and I reached for it, wanting desperately to tell my mother to just give me space to figure out my life. I was twenty-six years old, damn it, and I deserved the chance to explore my options—

“Mom, I—”

“Elsie?” a panicked voice said. “I’m sorry to be calling you, but I need your help.”

I paused mid-sidewalk, pulling the phone from my ear to look at the number. It was a Massachusetts area code, but it wasn’t a contact I had saved in my phone.

“Who is this?” I asked again, taking note of the obvious chaos in the background.

“It’s Ava,” she said tersely, as if it cost her something to admit it.

“How did you get my number?”

“From the town phone log.”

“How did I get on the town phone log?” I asked.

“Does it matter?” she asked. “I—” A crash stole her words. “Please get here fast! I really need you.”

“Where are you?” I said, jogging down the sidewalk without knowing if I was even moving in the right direction or not.

“I’m at Tessa’s house,” she said frantically.

“That would help if I knew where that was,” I said. “Can you text me an address?”

“They live a few houses down from the antique store.”

“Again, Ava. Not from here.”

A text came through, and I looked down to see her location pinged to my phone.

“Max! You put that cat down right now or I swear—”

I opened my mouth to tell her I was on my way, but a noise erupted in the background of the call. Ava let out a whimper, and then the line went dead.

I ran the entire way there.

I wasn’t a track star or anything, but I think I made pretty good time. Especially when you considered the fact that I was simultaneously navigating whilst running the streets of Colbridge.

Yeah, my role as the town whack job seemed to be solidified more and more each moment.

By the time I got to the house, I was only slightly sweaty and just fairly out of breath. My hair suffered the worst of it—tousled beyond repair from the wind and the running, and whatnot.

But I always looked a mess next to Ava anyway, so really, what did it matter in the grand scheme of things?

I walked up to the front door, knocking against it firmly.

I waited, shifting on my feet, and then banged again, a bit harder.

When I realized whatever noise I made out here would be muffled by the chaos happening inside, I took the liberty to open it myself, strolling headfirst into the mayhem.

“Ava?” I asked, staring around at the mess in the hallway. “Max?”

Army men lined each step of the staircase—probably defending the house from evil adults trying to keep order—an empty box of Cheez-Itz sat crumbled at the bottom, and a boogie board lay in two pieces in the middle of the hallway.

“Yikes,” I mouthed, staring at the scene before me.