A mile or two down the road, Anamae squeezed my hand. When I squeezed hers back, our hands drifted apart. It was how we reminded each other we’d beaten the accident. We’d survived, and we were even stronger because of the experience.

I gazed at her profile, trying to understand what had caused her outburst earlier about some boy I was sure I didn’t know. When Anamae drove past the boutiques of downtown Asheville, I worried she was having a relapse of her bizarre behavior.

“I think you missed the turn,” I said.

“We’ll stop on the way back,” she said cheerfully.

“On the way back from where?”

“I hope you don’t mind, but I thought I’d drive by Western Carolina,” she said. “You know how my mother wants me to go to a state college. They’re having a drop-in today, and I promised her I’d check it out.” She smiled at me. “We won’t stay long. I just want to be able to tell her that I stopped by.”

Anything that postponed hour after hour of trying on ridiculous puffy dresses was fine by me. We drove along in comfortable silence until Western Carolina came into view. Again, I was surprised when Anamae drove past our destination.

“Okay, for real… where are we going?” I asked in confusion.

She glanced at me before returning her eyes to the road. “You trust me, right?”

“Always,” I said without hesitation.

“So humor me then. Okay?” she asked.

The car slowed, and Anamae turned down a gravel road. I felt a chill pass through me when I read the brown state park sign. Judaculla Rock.

“You remembered something, didn’t you?” Anamae asked, parking the car.

“Maybe,” I said. “There’s definitely something familiar about this place.”

Not waiting for me, Anamae climbed out of the car. She took off down a narrow path into the woods, giving me no chance to consider what I should do. One thing was certain, I wasn’t about to let her go into the woods alone.

“Where are you going?” I asked when I’d caught up to her.

She turned to me. “No clue, but you should know.”

“You’re making absolutely no sense.” I instinctively moved closer to Anamae as we continued walking, surprised by how uncomfortable I felt. I’d spent hours with my father hiking trails similar to this one, and I’d always felt at ease. But the green of this park was deceptive. It felt like I’d find black decay if I scratched away the green on the leaves. There was something unnatural to this small forest.

“I remember something,” I said, taking Anamae’s arm. “My dad brought me here.” As I said the words, I knew they felt a little off. “No. Not my dad. He wanted to come here, but we never got the chance.” I took the lead, hiking slowly away from her.