“Later,” she said before walking down the side of the overpass toward the gate. I didn’t know for sure but wondered if Frankie wanted to read the letter from Colette in private, in case it made her emotional. She didn’t usually cry in front of other people.

I realized I wanted to read mine in private, too. The letter in my hands was for me and me alone, written by a girl who’d probably thought she’d be sitting next to me when I opened it. Gently touching the edge of the paper, I pictured Colette’s perfect handwriting inside, the curls and shapes of it forming sentences and secrets and predictions and her purposely ridiculous punctuation, all of it meant just for me. I didn’t want even the horseflies reading over my shoulder.

I stayed on the overpass for a few moments longer, until Frankie yelled at me to hurry up because she was hungry and had to pee. But sitting there, cross-legged over the two-lane highway, land stretching out forever, I was aware of being right where Colette had been last year.

I put my hand over my heart, knowing.

None of the rest had been real: Jackie and the messages, William and the scarf. But maybe this one was. Maybe, this whole time, from wherever she was now, Colette had just wanted to give me a letter.

“I love you,” I told her, hoping she could hear.

I stood up, and a minivan zoomed under, kind of like the one I’d been riding in all summer, but a different color. I wondered where it was going. I wondered if someone inside was looking back at me.

Just before I left the animal bridge, I realized something.

Sometime between standing in the field and now, the fairies had gone away.

epilogue

Ten months later, Frankie and I sat across from each other at our favorite spot, sharing a colossal basket of Tater Tots with every sauce: sriracha, ranch, honey mustard, barbecue, and Kane’s least favorite, ketchup. We both had soda: hers was orange, and mine was root beer. We’d shared Tater Tots together here once a week since last summer, but this would be the last for a while since tomorrow I’d leave for Wyoming.

I couldn’t believe it was already here.

“What if Jackie’s back at camp?” Frankie asked, talking with her mouth full.

“She will be,” I said. “Sam told me.” Girl Sam and I had gotten close this year; I was excited to hang out with her this summer.

“Don’t let Jackie be mean to you,” Frankie said.

“Oh, I won’t,” I promised, knowing that Jackie would probably just ignore me, like I’d ignore her. Thankfully, Izzy had told me she’d moved on and was dating some guy from their school, baking him birthday cakes now.

“You’d better not forgive her.”