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Instantly he regretted the question. The last thing he wanted was to trespass on the private property of her memories. “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to pry.”
“Oh, no, it’s not that.” Addisyn lifted her shoulders in a small shrug. “Basically, we just—we just have different philosophies of life. I made my choices, and she—well, she didn’t understand some of them. And that was that.” A twinge of pain had crept into her voice. “End of discussion.”
Her words were calm, even matter-of-fact, but something told Darius the discussion was sending shock waves through her heart.
Clearly this wound had never healed, and he ached for her. He thought back to his disagreements with his dad. If only there had been someone to tell him the truths he’d learned too late. How fragile people were—how quickly chances could spread their wings and fly away in a cloak of regret.
“Well...it’s none of my business, I know.” He paused, holding each word to the light and examining it before he spoke. “But...your sister must love you a lot. Even if you two disagree on some things.”
“She doesn’t love me. Not anymore.” The speed of Addisyn’s answer didn’t match her apathetic demeanor. She glanced away, watching a brown-headed crow beat its way across the sky. “Maybe she never loved me at all.”
“I’m sure she did. And still does.” Darius knew it wasn’t his place to interfere in this private dispute, but something urged him to continue. “And I don’t want to sound preachy. But one day, maybe, try to talk to her again. You know, call her up, try to work stuff out.”
Addisyn made a wry face. “Yeah, I don’t think she wants to talk to me.”
“I bet she does.”
The flicker of curiosity in Addisyn’s eyes showed that she was listening a lot harder than she pretended to be. “How—how can you be sure?”
How? “Because that’s how love is.” This he was sure of. He turned to face her, hoping the truth would somehow sink into her heart. “Love doesn’t care if it’s been hurt. Or if things are messy. Love just keeps reaching out.”
“Hmm.” Noncommittal at best, but at least she hadn’t shot him down. “Never thought of it that way.” Her eyes were pensive, staring ahead, not down the Zappa Trails but into a past he’d never experienced—memories she couldn’t shake and a sister she wouldn’t face.
Darius studied her, giving her a chance to listen to her thoughts. He’d never have guessed she’d been through so much trauma. Leaving her home—such that it was—as a young teenager...well, that had to have been hard. Crazy hard. For a moment he felt a twinge of uncertainty. Did he truly know Addisyn Miles? What if there was a lot more she wasn’t sharing? She could have a whole other life back where she came from, in America. Even a boyfriend—though surely she would’ve mentioned such a thing by now. She didn’t seem like the flirty type.
It certainly wasn’t wise to lose his heart to any girl. But to a girl he knew nothing about? Darius was suddenly aware of the many blanks in her biography. He didn’t know her vocation, her passions, her favorite food, or the name of her high school best friend. Even her reason for coming to Whistler remained a mystery. What if he was enchanted by an imaginary friend—and he didn’t know Addisyn Miles at all?
“Oh! Darius, look at that!”
Addisyn screeched to a halt on her bike, bits of gravel flying up all around her. She pulled her helmet off, letting her shiny hair fly free in the sunlight as she gazed at the view before them.
Lost Lake was nestled in the center of the trees, a jewel in the woods. Under the glitter of the snowy peaks, the unruffled cerulean of the water sparkled in the sun, as if extravagantly bestrewn with diamonds. Pine trees fringed the shore, their fragrance floating in the air like a blessing.
Addisyn smiled at him, her grin brighter than the sun streaks on the water. “It’s gorgeous!” Enthusiastically she jabbed her kickstand into the dirt and ran down to the water’s edge.
“Darius, look at this! Is it a badger dam? I mean beaver, aren’t beavers the ones that build the stick houses in lakes? Can you hear me?”
Suddenly Darius’s soul felt light again. He grinned as he parked his bike. “I hear ya, girl,” he called.
Because he did. He heard her—not just her story, but her soul. And as he ambled down to the lake, he was sure of one thing. He didn’t need to know her whole past.
Because he knew her—the real Addisyn Miles, deep and true and beautiful.
SHE COULDN’T GETthe picture out of her head.
Addisyn sighed and flopped onto her bed. Ever since the bike ride, the same scene had been burning in her mind. A cameo from old times. She’d tried everything to ignore it, brush it aside, but it kept intruding.
Maybe the only way to make it go away, back to the shadowy depths of her memory, was to acknowledge it.
She closed her eyes. The picture was immediately before her, a technicolor window into her past. She was a grinning seven-year-old, soaring on the swings at the local park, her hair flying back in the wind. And behind her was Avery. Pushing her.
Helping her fly faster and higher than she could ever have alone.
Their mom had snapped the photo one day—a rare moment of sanity, of normalcy, of a happy childhood. Avery had always treasured the picture. She’d even taken it with them to New York City. At the time Addisyn left, it had perched in a cheap white photo frame on the coffee table. Of course, Avery had probably thrown it in the garbage by now.
The happy-go-lucky scene was the polar opposite of their home life.
Addisyn opened her eyes and thought again of what she’d told Darius. A half hour of conversation on a rutted bike trail would never begin to unlock her history. She had given him the rough sketch, but only she knew the thousands of details that filled in the terrifying illustration.
