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“I did have fun, though,” she said. “I’m glad I went.”
“Me, too,” he said, taking a step back as he shoved his hands in his pocket. “I should be going. Have a good one.”
He walked away without another word, jogging across the street and disappearing into the darkness.
* * *
Monday came. Haven stepped out of her art building at precisely one o’clock and looked up to see Gavin leaning against the wall. They shared warm smiles and he strolled beside her to the library like usual, conversation flowing easy.
Wednesday he was there again, as he was on Friday. But the following week, when she walked out of her painting class, the sidewalk was vacant. For the first time in weeks . . . months . . . Gavin wasn’t there.
She waited for a few minutes, lingering along the side of the building, before making the journey alone.
Days passed, then weeks, with no sign of Gavin. What started as confusion quickly grew into frustration before finally morphing into concern. Had something happened to him? Was he okay?
One Friday afternoon, instead of heading to the library, she made the trek to the construction site. She stopped near the corner when she reached it, remaining on the old cracked sidewalk, her eyes scanning the property. They had made little progress from what she could tell, a few more levels of metal beams erected, but it was still no more than a fractured shell. Workers swarmed the grounds, a sea of yellow hard hats in the distance, bobbing and moving like rubber ducks in the water.
Her attention shifted to the trailer as the door flew open and Gavin appeared in the doorway. A group of guys greeted him when he stepped outside. He joined them, sipping on a bottle of water as he sat on the trailer steps, laughing.
Relief washed through her instantly before a tinge of hurt bubbled up. He appeared to be more than okay. Happy, even.
Haven stood there for a minute before turning away. She knew it then, could feel it in her gut, the concern and frustration fading right back to utter confusion. Their friendship was no more, tossed away haphazardly like it no longer meant anything . . . if it ever even did.
34
Intuition.
It was something Haven relied on since she was a child, living on the isolated ranch in the long-forgotten town of Blackburn. It had kept her out of trouble, warning her when something was not quite right. It was a sensation along her skin, a twisting in her gut that set her on edge. Whether it was coyotes prowling in the night or monsters lurking in the shadows, she had always sensed when something—or someone—was there who shouldn’t be.
She could remember only a handful of times when her intuition failed her. The afternoon in Dr. DeMarco’s bedroom had been once, when he had cornered her after she touched his gun. The warning signs had gone up too late. He had caught her red-handed, vulnerable and alone.
It had happened another time, too, years earlier when she had been a small girl. Trudging along after her mama in the greenhouse along the side of the property, boredom nagged at her as Miranda was busy at work. She was at that age where she still didn’t understand the reality of her existence, the dreamer inside of her still alive, naïve and innocent.
“Can I go see Chloe?” she had asked, tugging on the back of her mama’s shirt to get her attention. The cool air from an air conditioner blew on them from behind, stirring her filthy white summer dress.
“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” her mama said, not taking her eyes off the rows of plants. “You should stay with me.”
“I don’t like it in here,” she said, scrunching up her nose. “It smells funny.”
“It doesn’t smell funny.”
“Yes, it does. It’s cold, too. See!” She held out her arm to show her the chill bumps covering her tanned skin, even though her mama wasn’t looking. “And it’s too bright. My eyes hurt.”
“You’re just full of complaints today.”
“But it’s all true!” Haven said. “Can I go? I promise I’ll be good!”
“I know you’ll be good. I just . . . I don’t know.”
“Please? Chloe’s my best friend!”
She frowned. “Fine.”
Haven ran from the greenhouse, hearing her mama call after her to be careful, but she was too excited to respond. She hadn’t seen Chloe in more than five sunsets and missed her, but her mama said it was too dangerous for them to visit a lot.
Haven looked around when she got outside, making sure no one was there, before running across the yard as fast as her legs would go. She slowed when she got to the building on the other side of the house, right beside the stables that she and her mama stayed in. The building was gray, like a big metal house, and she quietly tiptoed to the back, where a bunch of cages were lined up against it.
“Chloe!” she called, seeing her right away in the first cage. She jumped up as soon as Haven said her name, looking as excited as she felt inside. “I missed you!”
