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I'm strollingdown Main Street, heading toward the coffee shop. I'm in the mood to indulge, and even though I ended up having a blast the last time I went into The Wild Boar, I know Nova isn't here. And that takes some of the fun out of it.
By all rights, I should be tired. As much fun as I had with Hunter today, there was a thread of low-level anxiety that clung to me all day. It's nerve-wracking knowing someone is watching you.
So I call the one person I know is always up for some celebratory food and treats. Cora answers on the second ring.
“Where are you?” I ask, a literal pep in my step.
“I'm at home. Why, where are you?” Cora asks. She sounds busy, like she's walking around her house or something.
“I'm downtown. Wanna meet me for coffee?”
“Babe, please,” she says with a scoff. “Not all of us can sip espresso at midnight and turn around and fall asleep twenty minutes later.”
I grin, unfazed by her sass. “Okay, dinner then?”
“Sure,” she says, dragging the word out. “You're awfully chipper. What's going on? Did you find Nana Jo's secret treasure or something?”
I pause at the corner, waiting for the walk sign to flash. “Nana Jo has a secret treasure?”
Cora laughs, it's light and musical. “No, I was kidding. But seriously, what's with the good mood?”
I was going to wait until I saw her to tell her, but this works too. Maybe a little time to cool off from her initial annoyance will be good for her. “I found a job that I think is going to be perfect.”
“Oh, yay! That's great news. Now you can stay in Rosewood forever,” she sing-songs the last word.
I chuckle and glance across the street to all the people in line at Uncle Harry's Custard. “You're always trying to find ways to keep me here.”
“Duh,” she deadpans.
“I'm going to nanny Dixie's grandson. She approached me about it when I took my car in the other day, and I spent the whole afternoon with him today. Kind of like a test run hands-on interview thing.” I pause, smiling when I recall Hunter's beaming face when we turned Dixie's backyard into an obstacle course. “It was a lot of fun. And Hunter is adorable.”
I'm caught up in my happiness that it takes me a second to realize that she hasn't said anything.
“Cora?” I pull away my phone and make sure we're still connected. Four bars still. “Hello?”
“Do you realize who you're nannying for?” Cora's voice hits that high pitch that tells me she's one step away from tumbling off whatever cliff of incredulity she's balancing on.
I knew she'd react loudly though. Her feelings on the Reapers in general are well-known. So I let it bounce off of me with a shrug.
“Yeah, Hunter,” I tell her, but I'm distracted by the familiar form walking toward me.
Short dark hair, dark enough that it looks black from this distance. Straightened within an inch of its life and hitting just below her chin in a chic bob. A black blouse with soft ruffles along the neckline, tucked into pin-straight, wide-legged black slacks.
I miss whatever Cora says, because there, on the other side of the crosswalk, is my sister.
“I'm going to have to call you back.” I pull the phone away from my ear, my thumb beelining for the end call button.
Cora's disgruntled voice is the last thing I hear before I end the call.
The light turns green, the sign flasheswalk, and my feet carry me across the street quickly. My thoughts around my sister are complicated on the best of days and harmful on the worst.
“Lizzie,” I call out before I clear the crosswalk.
She folds her arms across her torso tightly. The points of her French stiletto nails digging into her biceps.
“Elizabeth,” she snaps, her head tilted high so she can look through her oversized black sunglasses and literally down her nose at me.
Two inches taller and two years older than me, my sisterElizabethis more like my mother than I ever will be. Cold, calculating, ruthless in her profession.
