“But, so, it’s going to be great. We’ve made it the book of the island, really, and book clubs at libraries are going to—”

“No.”

“Maybe you could, like, record yourself reading if you don’t want to make the trip, and we could project—”

“No.”

Ash squeezed his knee.

“Right. Okay. Of course. Sorry.”

Truman studied his shoes. His first instinct was to feel like a failure. But lately he’d tried to ask better questions—less I suck! and more What did I gain all those years from doing this thing, and why might I not need to anymore? So instead of thinking I’m a failure, he asked her why. Why she’d always been so private.

“Because I have never wanted people showing up at my house trying to talk to me.”

Truman flinched before he saw the hint of humor in her eyes.

Then her expression turned serious. “Creating something is very different from talking about it or interacting with people who consume it. Once it’s out of my hands, it’s no longer mine. I’ve never had any interest in seeing other people’s interpretations of my work or answering their questions about what my characters eat for breakfast. The work is what’s on the page, and anything else is in the imagination of the reader. It doesn’t have anything to do with me.” She cracked her knuckles. “Besides, I hate people. And they’ve never been terribly fond of me. Why do you think I created my own to play with?”

Then she smiled, a genuine, toothy smile, and stood up. It was clearly time to leave.

“Can I ask you one more thing?” Truman ventured.

“One more.”

“Will you ever write anything else?”

“No.”

And then there was nothing more to say. Truman had done what he’d come for, and he’d remember it forever.

Ash walked out first, and as Truman crossed the threshold, Tark grabbed his elbow.

“If you tell anyone where I am, I will have you murdered. Remember, I know where you live too.”

Truman gave a nervous laugh, but Tark wasn’t smiling.

“I won’t. I swear.”

She nodded once, and the menace was gone. “Please send my love to your mother, if you think it’s appropriate,” she said to Ash.

Then she closed the door and was gone.

Chapter 32

Truman

July 2 was Ash’s birthday, and Truman had strict instructions not to do anything that resembled a party or a gathering…or really anything that involved other people. It had become very clear to Truman over the last six months that while Ash enjoyed connecting with individual people, he hated being the center of attention.