Page 25

My entire body aches when I roll out of bed, but that’s nothing new. I always try to get a few hours of sleep in my actual bed before greeting the day; I do normally sleep through the night, but sleeping outside under the circumstances that I do isn’t exactly conducive for actual rest.

The sun is already high in the sky when I sit up from the bed in Rhona’s caretaker cottage, which I’m currently living in; my feet hang off the end a little, but the place is so small, I don’t know how I would get a bigger bed in here anyway. Besides, it’s free. Money might not be an issue for me, but with Granny’s old house having been sold, it’s not like there are better options in Greerloch even if Ididwant to throw money at the situation. Better to put up with the tiny bed to be closer to the property, given the reason that I’m here.

I scratch at my stomach as I shuffle over to the kitchenette, which is only a few feet from the corner of the cottage that serves as the bedroom, turning on the coffeepot so that I can get some much-needed caffeine in my system. In the six months since I arrived back in Greerloch, I have yet to find what I’m looking for. It would be easier if I could justaskRhona, but with the likelihood that she mostlikely doesn’t know herself, given the secrecy of it all, I imagine it wouldn’t do anything but make her think I’m insane.

Lately, I’m starting to wonder if I am.

I hear something buzzing on the counter, and when I reach for the old cell phone I barely use, my mouth immediately turns down. I onlykeepthis phone for her, really, but with every conversation, there seems to be only more distance between us. Still.

I swipe my thumb across the screen to answer, putting it on speaker as I fiddle with the coffeepot.

“Hello?”

“Hi,” a soft voice answers.

Silence rings for a beat.

I clear my throat. “How are you?”

“Okay,” my mother says. “I was just thinking about you.”

That’s rare.

I shake away the bitter thought, reminding myself that I’m not the only one who’s suffered from everything that’s befallen us.

“How’s Auntie?”

“She’s good,” Mum tells me. “And you? How are you gettin’ on?”

“All right,” I tell her. “Still working on the MacKay farm.”

“You know you don’t need to work. Not since your fath—” She cuts herself off, making a choked sound. Like even today it still hurts her to talk about him. “What made you want to do that anyhow?”

“Oh, just…missed Greerloch, I s’pose. Seemed wrong not to offer when they’re letting me stay in their groundskeeper cottage. Keeps me busy.”

In more ways than one, I think.

“You’re not…you know. Are you?”

I pause, my hand against the now-closed lid of the coffeepot. “I don’t follow.”

“You don’t really believe the stories, do you?”

“Thosestoriesare kind of my life, so.”

She sighs. “I just don’t want you to be getting it in your head that there’s something out there, son. It’ll drive you mad.”

“Seems that could happen to me either way, aye? Might as well try.”

She goes quiet, no doubt thinking. I wrestle with whether or not to tell her—I can’t know if it will upset her or not, knowing.

Fuck it.

“The MacKays had a granddaughter show up out of the blue,” I say. “Apparently she’s Duncan’s girl.”

My mother sucks in a breath, but says nothing. I don’t know why that irritates me. What do I expect her to do—get excited?

“Maybe it means something else,” I tell her. “Maybe it means it’s not too late for—”