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Back When the Stars Go Dark Save as PDF
Chapters (83)
  1. Epigraph
  2. Maps
  3. (prologue)
  4. Part 1: Signs and Vapors
  5. (one)
  6. (two)
  7. (three)
  8. (four)
  9. (five)
  10. (six)
  11. (seven)
  12. (eight)
  13. (nine)
  14. (ten)
  15. (eleven)
  16. (twelve)
  17. Part 2: Secret Things
  18. (thirteen)
  19. (fourteen)
  20. (fifteen)
  21. (sixteen)
  22. (seventeen)
  23. (eighteen)
  24. (nineteen)
  25. (twenty)
  26. (twenty-one)
  27. (twenty-two)
  28. (twenty-three)
  29. (twenty-four)
  30. (twenty-five)
  31. (twenty-six)
  32. (twenty-seven)
  33. (twenty-eight)
  34. (twenty-nine)
  35. (thirty)
  36. (thirty-one)
  37. (thirty-two)
  38. (thirty-three)
  39. (thirty-four)
  40. (thirty-five)
  41. (thirty-six)
  42. (thirty-seven)
  43. (thirty-eight)
  44. (thirty-nine)
  45. Part 3: Time and the Maiden
  46. (forty)
  47. (forty-one)
  48. (forty-two)
  49. (forty-three)
  50. (forty-four)
  51. (forty-five)
  52. (forty-six)
  53. (forty-seven)
  54. (forty-eight)
  55. (forty-nine)
  56. (fifty)
  57. (fifty-one)
  58. (fifty-two)
  59. (fifty-three)
  60. Part 4: The Bent Grove
  61. (fifty-four)
  62. (fifty-five)
  63. (fifty-six)
  64. (fifty-seven)
  65. (fifty-eight)
  66. (fifty-nine)
  67. (sixty)
  68. (sixty-one)
  69. (sixty-two)
  70. (sixty-three)
  71. (sixty-four)
  72. (sixty-five)
  73. (sixty-six)
  74. (sixty-seven)
  75. (sixty-eight)
  76. (sixty-nine)
  77. (seventy)
  78. Dedication
  79. (acknowledgments)
  80. (author’s note)
  81. BY PAULA MCLAIN
  82. ABOUT THE AUTHOR
  83. What’s next onyour reading list?

He locks the garage as we step out into the driveway, and then heads for the house while I stand there, quietly exploding. Can he really mean to follow me over to the Art Center? Is he that bold? And if so, is there a way to let Will know I suspect him once we get there? My mind tumbles on and on as several raindrops hit my face. When I left the cabin this morning, it was chilly and clear, but the sky has gone dark and spongy. I glance quickly toward the house to see if Caleb is coming, and then step toward the locked garage door, peering through the window. I want another look at the canvas again, to confirm my impressions. But this time my eye catches on something else. A photograph pinned over Caleb’s workbench. Black and white and old-fashioned somehow, as if it’s been cut out of a history book.

I lean closer to the glass, on the edge of recognition, when I hear a car start, and then see Caleb pulling out from behind the garage in a white Toyota pickup. Adrenaline flares as I jump out of the way, wondering if he means to run me over. Instead, he slams on the brakes long enough to shout through the open window, his eyes hardened, almost ceramic. “If you follow me, I’ll kill her.”

Then he punches the gas and fishtails away.

—

I’m paralyzed for an instant as it all lands, everything that’s escaped me, like a bomb detonating in my mind. How Caleb’s profile is a perfect fit for the kind of man who might flip violently, becoming a killer, a monster. A childhood fractured by abandonment and chaos, his father a tyrant and an alcoholic. The way he’d lost Jenny, the person he loved best in the world, completely powerless to save her. Then the case going unsolved, her killer never found. That piece alone would have been enough to set rage loose inside him, altering him fundamentally, twisting him at the root, as Hap had explained long ago in the krummholz grove.

Somehow I haven’t been able to recognize the tortured quality in Caleb, his woundedness—even when we sat side by side on the bluff that day. Maybe I’ve been stuck confusing his story with my own, or confusing his past with his present. Or maybe I’ve simply forgotten Hap’s cardinal rule, about keeping my eyes open all the time, my trust withheld until it’s earned. Either way, regret is a luxury I don’t have time for. I can’t lose Caleb but don’t have a way to follow him. And every second counts.