AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“Hmm, yes I suppose those words belong to someone else.” Her gaze holds mine as her eyes blacken, as if she’s seeing all the things I keep in the dark. “To Brandon, right?”
My mouth goes dry.
Maeve nods, as if I’ve confirmed something she already knew. The light turns green, and she turns to leave. Her foot steps off the sidewalk.
Tanya’s text flashes through my mind.Real deal.What if Maeve is telling the truth? What if this is the chance I’ve been waiting for?
“Wait.”
My command stops Maeve midstep. She holds the pose, balanced on one leg, with a ballerina’s grace. She spins and returns to the sidewalk, eyebrow raised.
“You know? About Brandon? About—”
“Yes, Hope.” The heartbreak in her voice makes my pulse jump. She knows.
“How? No one ... it’s impossible.”
“Impossible isn’t the roadblock you think it is,” she says. “If you’d like, I can show you.”
I squeeze my eyes and try to tamp down the hope igniting in my chest. “I shouldn’t.”
“That’s probably true. But what do you want?”
“Can you ... can you give him a message for me?” My voice is so thick with tears I hardly recognize myself.
She shakes her head. “That’s not how it works exactly.”
“Then how does it work?”
Across the street, a group of teenagers emerges from an arcade. Their laughter arcs between us, and my vision clears. My sense of time and place returns with a rush.
“I’m happy to talk here, but I imagine there will be consequences for you if we continue.” Maeve heads toward the lake.
I hesitate only for another moment before I hurry after Maeve—marking the third time I’ve broken my promise to Tessa.
As they say—third time’s the charm.
10
WILL
A line of sweat slips down the middle of my back and collects at the base of my spine. Desert-dry leaves, twigs, and stems crinkle and crack as I hike to the place Bailey told me about. My breath comes in heaving, embarrassing puffs as I finally reach the top of the trail, where it splits. One way leads up to a cliff with a killer view. The other, to the right, is a steep descent to the lake that I’m already dreading scaling after this—whatever this is—is over.
Bailey was cryptic about what to expect, describing which trail to take and confirming three times that I’d go at dusk. “That’s when the magic really happens,” she said.
The trails are familiar at least. Darren used to run them every morning. I loved when he invited me to come. He’d tell me about his plans to visit Europe, his idea to settle down in Montana. I’d teased him—because who purposefully moves to Montana? But the idea of wide-open skies had caught his attention early on, and he’d never once wavered on that plan.
Until our dad died. Until free mornings on the trail were replaced by hours helping our mom at the Inn. Until Darren turned to alcohol to deal with his grief.
Until I realized if I didn’t leave fast, I’d never leave at all.
A slash of firelight streaking toward the sky reminds me why I’m trekking through the woods at sunset.
As I crest the hill, the lake and the source of the firelight come into view. A bonfire on a small stretch of beach surrounded by trees is irresponsible on a normal day. During the height of a monthslong drought? Even a hint of an ember could cause everything to burn up.
Beyond the bonfire and just past an old, gnarled crab apple tree, a long and lean cottage sits at the entrance to the woods. The fire roaring to the side of the property illuminates the paint peeling from the porch in long, curling admissions of neglect. Dusty windows outlined with the shape of missing shutters complete the front-facing facade. A weatherworn dock stretches into the lake.
My steps slow as I approach. I don’t know exactly what I was expecting. Flowing white robes and floral headdresses, maybe. Definitely weird chanting and a ritual dance. But the scene before me is—ordinary. A bunch of adults ranging in age from late twenties to early sixties dressed in anything from sundresses to khakis. One man wearing a navy-blue suit, his tie hanging undone from his neck, looks as if he just walked out of the boardroom. I’d sooner believe I walked in on a PTA meeting or the after-party of a librarians’ convention.
