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She didn’t know what a beagle was but she nodded.
“She’s a good girl, makes a good hunting dog.” He patted Chloe on top of the head once more before standing back up. “Do you have a name for her?”
She nodded again.
“Will you tell me it?”
Another nod. She didn’t know what else to do.
He laughed at her muteness, and Haven squeezed her eyes shut tight when his hand came toward her. She braced herself for the hit, for the fingers digging in her flesh, the scratches and bruises, but none of it came. Instead, he patted her on the head like he had done Chloe. His hand was heavy, but it didn’t hurt.
“You ought to be more careful, kid,” he said, still laughing to himself. “It’s never good when the likes of me can sneak up on somebody like you.”
It was then, as Frankie sauntered away, that Haven felt the telltale signs of her intuition striking, warning her when it was already too late.
And years later, as she sat in a booth in the back of a small diner, sipping a cup of black coffee as Kelsey stabbed at a plate of scrambled eggs, she felt it stirring yet again. It started with a prickle, a tickle across her taut skin, before the tiny hairs at the nape of her neck stood on end. She ignored it at first, trying to pay attention to Kelsey, but the sensation just grew stronger and stronger.
“Are you even listening to me?” Kelsey asked, pointing her fork at Haven.
“Sure,” Haven said, absently rubbing her neck. “What did you say again?”
“Let’s take a road trip.”
Brow furrowed, Haven stared at her friend. “What?”
“Let’s take a road trip,” Kelsey repeated for what was likely the third time. “We don’t have anything else to do this summer, right?”
“Uh, well . . .” Haven hesitated. Road trip? “I kind of thought I’d just stay around here this summer and take a few extra classes. You know, get ahead.”
Kelsey dramatically rolled her eyes. “Oh, come on. School will be here when we get back. It’s been a long year, and we deserve a break.”
“I don’t know . . .”
“Well, think about it.” Kelsey threw her fork down and stood up, tossing some cash down on the table. “We can leave after the Novak Gala.”
“Okay,” Haven said, drinking the rest of her coffee before setting the cup aside. “I’ll think about it.”
She had no intention of thinking about it, no intention of leaving New York.
The two of them left the diner, Kelsey once again babbling as they walked side by side toward the school. Haven was tense, her eyes darting around as they passed through crowds, surveying faces, analyzing looks. She kept peering over her shoulder, but she wasn’t sure why.
What she was sure of, though, was the twisting in her gut, her intuition telling her that someone—or something—was there that shouldn’t be.
* * *
“Explain it to me again.”
Haven ignored Kelsey, acting as if her friend hadn’t spoken as she studied the canvas in front of her. The fresh paint glistened under the fluorescent lights of the art studio, the vast array of colors weaving together like a tangled rainbow.
Abstract art—Haven was still trying to get the hang of it.
“Does this look okay?” she asked anxiously.
“It looks fine,” Kelsey said. “Now explain it to me again.”
Haven sighed. “We went out, it was nice, but it didn’t work.”
“And that’s it?”
