“Isn’t it a little early?” he said.

Addison shook her head. “This can’t wait, and my car is still at the Bonners’.”

“Whatever you need,” he said, and started to push back from the table.

“Wait,” Addison said.

She drained her tea, flipped the cup, and examined the contents. She saw the same things, over and over again: rosemary and corn, the fern and the ladybug. But this time they were surrounded by small leaves, a sign that she had a choice to make.

“Anything helpful?” His eyes searched hers.

“The same symbols that led me to the Bonners in the first place,” Addison said. “Let me see yours.”

River swirled his cup and tipped it, just as Addison had taught him years ago.

“You remember,” she said.

“When you fall in love with a Haywood, there are some things you never forget.” He held out the mug to her, and they both leaned over it. Small leaves dotted his cup, just like the leaves around hers. At the bottom, she saw a fruit basket and several ears of corn.

“Well?” he asked.

“There’s lots of corn. Corn on its own can be a sign of success,” Addison said as she pressed a finger to the symbol, showing him. “Same with the fruit basket. But both of them together, combined with the leaves, it looks to me like you may have to make a choice between the distillery and the grocery.”

River furrowed his brow. “But I already made a choice. I left the distillery. With what the Bonners want to do to your family, why would I ever choose them?”

Addison pressed her lips together. “For the same reason I might.”

“What?” River said.

Addison closed her eyes and leaned her head back. She hadn’t planned to tell him—she hadn’t planned to tell anyone except Quinn—but if she and River were going to move forward from here together, she wanted him to know the truth.

“I think Kaden Bonner is my father.”

“He… what?” River shook his head. “How could you possibly know that?”

“It’s why you found me like you did last night. Sylvia shared a glass of bourbon with me, a bottle from the summer of ’97, and there was a memory trapped inside. We both saw it when she cracked open the bottle and we took a sip.”

His eyes widened. “That’s what made you think my pain would still be in the garden, because your mom’s memories were in the bourbon.”

Addison nodded.

“And since Sylvia is likely your grandmother, you think she’ll let you into the cornfield so you can figure out what the garden was trying to show you in your vision.”

She nodded again.