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Ellie’s heart pounded as she approached him. There, at his feet, propped up against the tree, was a body.
“Cal.” His name was a choked gasp as she dropped to her knees next to him…
Except it wasn’t Cal.
Hopeful.
His long hair spilled around his shoulders in a sweaty mess, his mouth ajar in an O of surprise. One hand rested limply on his chest under the blossom of blood on his white robe. His body was cold and rigid. He’d been dead for a while.
Puzzle whined again, butting his head against her leg.
“Good boy,” she muttered, running her fingers through his fur. She sat back on her heels as relief and horror warred inside her. “This doesn’t make sense.”
Zak crouched down beside her and studied the body. “No, it doesn’t. Who shot him?”
Suddenly Puzzle bounded off into the underbrush, disappearing from their sight. Ellie scrambled to her feet and took off after him, branches slapping at her face and arms. Puzzle barked like crazy, his voice echoing off the trees, sending up a flock of birds. He had Cal’s scent.
Finally, the underbrush opened up to a small clearing where Puzzle danced around in front of a house she recognized—the old house from the group picture she’d found online while looking for True. It looked like someone had renovated it since that photo. Now it boasted fresh gold paint and bright white trim. Flowers bloomed in the neatly kept yard.
Something about the place tugged at a long-forgotten memory…
A children’s book with a pretty yellow house on the cover…
And an older sister who used to read that book over and over to her…
“I’m gonna have a house like this someday, Elle. A pretty little yellow cottage in the woods.”
“Will it be magic like in the book?”
“I think it will be.”
“Can I come visit?”
“You’d better,” Hope had said as she lovingly twirled one of Ellie’s ringlets around her finger. “You’re always welcome in my house.”
The memory crashed into Ellie like a wave, stealing the breath from her lungs. Before she knew what she was doing, she moved toward the house.
“Wait!”
She ignored Zak’s warning and walked up the steps, tracing her hand along the railing. The door opened before she got to it and there stood Hope.
Her hair was just as wild and dark as Ellie remembered, her eyes the same piercing light blue, but that was where the similarities ended. Her skin was sallow, her body thin from years of malnourishment or drug use or both.
“Hope,” she breathed. “You’re alive.”
The suspicion in Hope’s eyes softened slightly. “Ellie?”
Her voice was more hoarse, more broken than Ellie remembered, but it held the familiar lilt of their shared childhood. She looked at Ellie with a gaze that held many long, harrowing years of pain and survival.
Ellie nodded, feeling a lump in her throat. “Yeah, Hope. It’s me.”
Hope’s lips twitched in something like a smile. “Elle… you’re all grown up.”
Tears welled in Ellie’s blue eyes, stinging and hot. “And you’re… you’re...” She swallowed hard against the lump that had lodged itself in her throat.
“I’m alive,” Hope finished for her, stepping back and opening the door wider, inviting her in.
Ellie launched herself at Hope, arms wrapping tightly her waist. Hope stood stock-still for an instant in shock before she slowly raised her arms to pat Ellie’s back awkwardly.
