Chapters (59)
- COVER
- About the Author
- DEDICATION
- ONE
- TWO
- THREE
- FOUR
- FIVE
- SIX
- SEVEN
- EIGHT
- NINE
- TEN
- ELEVEN
- TWELVE
- THIRTEEN
- FOURTEEN
- FIFTEEN
- SIXTEEN
- SEVENTEEN
- EIGHTEEN
- NINETEEN
- TWENTY
- TWENTY-ONE
- TWENTY-TWO
- TWENTY-THREE
- TWENTY-FOUR
- TWENTY-FIVE
- TWENTY-SIX
- TWENTY-SEVEN
- TWENTY-EIGHT
- TWENTY-NINE
- THIRTY
- THIRTY-ONE
- THIRTY-TWO
- THIRTY-THREE
- THIRTY-FOUR
- THIRTY-FIVE
- THIRTY-SIX
- THIRTY-SEVEN
- THIRTY-EIGHT
- THIRTY-NINE
- FORTY
- FORTY-ONE
- FORTY-TWO
- FORTY-THREE
- FORTY-FOUR
- FORTY-FIVE
- FORTY-SIX
- FORTY-SEVEN
- FORTY-EIGHT
- FORTY-NINE
- FIFTY
- FIFTY-ONE
- FIFTY-TWO
- FIFTY-THREE
- FIFTY-FOUR
- Acknowledgments
- THIS IS JUST THE BEGINNING
I took one step closer, careful to stay out of the mud so as not to disturb his footprints, taking them in. They were thoughtfully placed, as if he’d stepped far too close to take a photo – an artist’s work, his swan song. I reached out, wanting to run my fingers over them, these impressions of John, unsure when I’d see him again.
‘What are you doing?’
I jumped up, my feet kicking at an errant bit of gravel, and I heard it bounce all the way down. I swallowed, throat tight. ‘It just looks so real. If he really had fallen, we wouldn’t even see him.’
‘Exactly,’ Vera said. ‘That’s the point.’
Her gaze was steely, like I’d disappointed her somehow.
‘I don’t hear anything,’ I said. ‘Do you think we should make sure he’s okay? Before we …’
Vera shook her head firmly. ‘We can’t, Lucy,’ she said. ‘We have to stick to the plan.’
‘Okay,’ I said quietly, and then repeated myself, as if to prove the point: ‘Okay.’
Her eyes softened, and the old Vera came back. ‘He’s fine, I promise, he knows exactly what he’s doing out there –’
‘But I hardly gave him any time to prepare.’
‘It’s okay, Lucy,’ Vera said. ‘He’s good at this. He’s doing his part – we need to do ours.’ She retrieved her phone, rubbed it against her shirt to clear it of water, and made a show of keying in 911. ‘No service,’ she said robotically.
I nodded, wanting to look at the river again but knowing I shouldn’t.
Vera stepped closer, and though her eyes were serious, there was kindness there, too. Coated in droplets, her hair practically shone. ‘Can you do this, Lucy? If you can’t, we can call it off. We can meet John in his cabin tonight. We can pretend that none of this ever happened. We can go back to –’
‘I don’t want to call it off.’
‘You’re absolutely sure?’ Vera asked. ‘Because there’s no going back, once we do it. You understand that, don’t you?’
‘I understand.’
Vera took my hand in hers, cool and damp from the weather, and squeezed. ‘Thank you,’ she said. ‘I love you. Now, let’s get back to where we can make a call, before it gets dark.’
As agreed, we ran, retracing our steps, Vera, agile, leading the way; me, trying my best not to trip over roots and stones, matted leaves slick from the rain.
At a break in the woods, she stopped and checked her phone. ‘I have service.’
‘Me too.’