Page 62

“What?” Abby tilted her head.

“I saw it, how Deb and Harriet died.”

“Oh, Quinn…” Abby let out and took another step toward her. “You… saw it?”

“And I felt it, too. I felt her, or maybe me, leaving that body. I felt the love she had for Deb and Paul. I watched them try to keep him safe.”

“They did. He survived.”

“Buttheydidn’t. They loved each other so much, Abby.”

“Tell me about it. I’ve been writing their story for days now, trying to convey just how much.”

“Did you change your ending after finding out what happened?”

Abby shook her head and said, “No. I might have to change the names of my characters because I didn’t realize they were real people, but I’m not changing their ending. I have a new problem, though.”

Quinn swallowed and said, “Yeah?”

“I stole another picture out of the box.” Abby held up a quarter. “I owe you this.”

“What?” Quinn asked with a little chuckle.

“I’m not a thief, but I couldn’tnottake it. Then, I also couldn’t go back to tell you that I’d taken it. I walked all the way to the diner to get into my car, felt awful, turned around, walked all the way back, and saw you leaving the shop. So, I just walked back to my car again, went home, and stared at this.” Abby pulled a picture out of her back pocket. “Two teenage girls from 1958.”

“Is there a date on it?” she asked as she walked over to Abby and took the picture from her.

“No.” Abby shook her head. “I just know this time.”

“Poodle skirts,” Quinn said as she stared, remembering the name of the skirts she’d seen earlier. “They’re in love, aren’t they?”

“Cheryl and Diana.” Abby pointed from one to the other.

“You know their names?”

“It just came to me when I started to write.”

“Wait. You’re writing about them now, too?”

“I can’t focus on Harriet and Deb anymore. I don’t knowif it’s because it hurts too much. I just know that now, all I can think about is Cheryl and Diana and their story. So, I started writing it, but I stopped when I remembered that I’d stolen this from you. I also think it wasn’tjustbecause I stole it. I…” Abby held out the quarter again.

Quinn smiled at her because she knew that Abby was trying to tell her that she had needed to see Quinn to tell her about Cheryl and Diana in the same way Quinn had needed to see her to tell Abby about what she’d seen.

“Would you like a piece of blackberry pie?” she asked.

“I would love one,” Abby replied.

CHAPTER 23

1958

Cheryl wouldn’t remember anything else about that day. She was seventeen years old, and before that day, she’d had a crush that she knew was unrequited. It was only a crush, too. She knew it couldn’t be anything more. But when she thought about Barb, she couldn’t help but picture them holding hands as they walked down the school hallway. She’d pictured them kissing, too, but never going further than that. It had always felt wrong in her mind, taking things further. Besides, Cheryl hadn’t been sure she’d wanted those things with Barb. Barb was beautiful, to be sure. She was smart and sweet, captain of three academic teams, including the English club that Cheryl was also in, but whenever Cheryl thought about them kissing, it was only sweet, just like Barb. Nothing more than that.

Barb was unavailable to Cheryl, and not just because it wasn’t likely that she felt about girls how Cheryl did, either. Barb was with Richard Jenkins, the captain of the basketball team and three-time state champ since he’d gotten to school and led the varsity team as a freshman. He was on his way to the University of Kentucky, which had one of the best college basketball teams in the country. As a senior, just like Barb and Cheryl, he had one season to go to have four perfect seasons and make himself look even better.

“I’m getting playing time as a freshman,” he said one day when Cheryl walked behind him in the hallway on the way to class.

He had his arm around Barb’s shoulders, and she was leaning into his side like she wanted nothing more than to follow him to Kentucky and go to a secretary school nearby.