BooksBarbecue
Back Seasons of Chaos
Chapters (70)
  1. Dedication
  2. Prologue
  3. 1
  4. 2
  5. 3
  6. 4
  7. 5
  8. 6
  9. 7
  10. 8
  11. 9
  12. 10
  13. 11
  14. 12
  15. 13
  16. 14
  17. 15
  18. 16
  19. 17
  20. 18
  21. 19
  22. 20
  23. 21
  24. 22
  25. 23
  26. 24
  27. 25
  28. 26
  29. 27
  30. 28
  31. 29
  32. 30
  33. 31
  34. 32
  35. 33
  36. 34
  37. 35
  38. 36
  39. 37
  40. 38
  41. 39
  42. 40
  43. 41
  44. 42
  45. 43
  46. 44
  47. 45
  48. 46
  49. 47
  50. 48
  51. 49
  52. 50
  53. 51
  54. 52
  55. 53
  56. 54
  57. 55
  58. 56
  59. 57
  60. 58
  61. 59
  62. 60
  63. 61
  64. 62
  65. Epilogue
  66. Acknowledgments
  67. About the Author
  68. Books by Elle Cosimano
  69. Back Ad
  70. About the Publisher

Halfway through the song, Jack appears beside me carrying a tray full of salad and pasta. He plants a kiss on my cheek and takes a seat across from Kai. As he settles, he catches her eye. They exchange a prolonged glance that steals the smile from Jack’s face, and she promptly turns away.

I rest my hand on his knee, raising an eyebrow. He gives my hand a squeeze, as if to say he’ll explain later. I don’t push, content to let him tear into a mound of spaghetti while the rest of us celebrate the end of another day.

Just another meal at home with close friends and found families.

JACK

Kai emerges from the Blackheath tunnel just south of Greenwich Park right after dinner. She gives me a crooked smile, the silver aviator sunglasses she wears to conceal her eyes reflecting mine.

“I thought you couldn’t read the future,” she says.

“I can’t.” The evening is balmy and cool as the sun slips lower in the dusky sky. I tuck my hands in my pockets, matching her leisurely stride toward the duck pond.

“Then how’d you know I’d be here?” she asks, raising a skeptical eyebrow.

“You made the decision to leave days ago.” The grass is still damp, littered with fallen limbs. The persistent storms finally cleared last week, and cleanup has been ongoing throughout London. “And don’t pretend you’re surprised to see me.”

She grins at that. “Were you spying on me?” She hitches her backpack higher on her shoulder as I trail her through the park. It’s strange to see her carrying something other than her bow on her back. But I guess it’s hard to board an airplane with one.

“I wasn’t spying,” I say defensively. It’s mostly true, but I haven’t gotten the knack of my sight yet, and sometimes I see things I don’t intend to. Like when I saw Kai at dinner an hour ago. She’d glanced up as I sat down at the cafeteria table opposite her and in her eyes, I saw the plane ticket she purchased online last week. One way, to New Zealand, departing tonight. “You don’t have to leave, you know. We all want you to stay. Even Julio,” I tease her.

“I know,” she says, one side of her mouth quirking up. “He doesn’t know it yet, but he’s going to miss me when I’m gone. You can tell him I said so.” We walk in companionable silence past the pond.