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Gus is engrossed in the menu, his stomach ranking higher than my minor relationship drama, which I’m okay with.

He’d only spent one evening with me and Huck, so he doesn’t really know about our connection or the aftermath.

And I’ve been quietly nursing that wound on my own for some time anyway; I’ve learned it’s better that way.

If you want to forget about something, you don’t talk about it.

You bury it deep beneath the surface, and you don’t leave any clues behind.

You definitely don’t put them on the cover of your book.

On my side, I might’ve let it slip to Zoe during one of her post-trip cross-examinations that what had seemed promising in Iceland had culminated in an epic night together followed by an even more epic letdown the following morning, but that was the extent of my sharing.

All of us were more focused on following the clue we’d discovered on Gunnarsson’s axe to help us find the Stolen Treasure.

That meant scouring archives to figure out what ship was carrying the renamed Heart of England and then finding it on my mother’s map.

We also were busy dealing with the fact that according to Icelandic law, we had to return the treasure to the government.

It’s displayed in a museum now. We’d received one-tenth of the current value of the metal, not the find, which wasn’t as much as we’d hoped.

Our flights were reimbursed and we were a little famous in small treasure-hunting circles and our local paper, but that was it.

We were fine with it, except for the fact that we missed the summer search window while we were sorting it out.

Riches and fame aren’t why we hunt treasure anyway.

It’s always been about the history, getting one step closer to finding the Elephant’s Heart, preserving the past, and discovering answers to age-old questions…

Why did he leave me like that?

I’d asked myself that question a thousand times and never thought of a reason that didn’t hurt.

Maybe he hadn’t cared for me in the first place and my instincts about him had been wrong.

Or maybe he left because that’s what people do…

they leave me. I don’t know why. Maybe it is because I’m not good enough, or pretty enough, or interesting enough.

Huck probably realized that sleeping together was a massive mistake.

A search for answers will never bring me peace, I know this, yet I can’t help wondering if somewhere on the pages of this book there’s an explanation.

“I can like his books without liking him.” I shrug.

Teddy eyes me as I stuff the book back into my bag.

“But actually, I doubt I’ll like it. It’s probably trash worthy of a public evisceration on Goodreads.

I might even do some sort of social media rant about how it’s exceptional bullshit and I had to DNF. ”

Huck’s voice is a low whisper in my ear. Did you hate-read my books? You seem like someone who might.

Gus lets out a low whistle. “Somebody’s pissed.”

“What do you expect, babe?” Zoe says. “That man weaseled his way into our good graces and then beat Stella at her own game in the morning.”

“Oh, yeah, I forgot about the dine and dash.”

“We agreed not to call it that,” I say.

“What did we agree to call it?” Gus asks. “For the life of me, I can’t remember. Was it, like, the dawn and dip?”

“Bang and bail,” Teddy says.

They don’t know the impact of each word. How could they? I hadn’t told them. I’d participated in the fun, offering my own version—the fling and wing—which was rejected because it rhymed instead of starting with the same letter.

I take the beer from Teddy’s hand and down a big gulp before dropping into a seat at the table.

It’s time to forget about the book and the humiliating alliterations we’d crafted to make light of what Huck did, and put the tangled net of emotions and memories aside.

We’re here to focus on one thing—finally finding the Stolen Treasure and the Elephant’s Heart—and Huck Sullivan isn’t part of that narrative.

Not anymore. Not ever again. “Can we focus on important things, like planning our expedition? Please?”

“Hush puppies first,” Gus growls. “Then we can talk about the search and salvage permit application for the site.”

“Nope,” Zoe says. “We kick things off with a toast. To finding our next big thing, and roasting Huck Sullivan with the most tasty one-star review of all time.”

“Hear, hear,” Gus says, raising a beer. “Nobody puts baby in the corner.”

“Or bang and bails,” Zoe says.

Teddy takes his beer back to cheers them, so I lift a glass of ice water. I pretend I’m enjoying this.

“I think I’ll call it an utterly unsatisfying read,” Zoe said, laughing at her own joke.

“While I am loving the energy, maybe don’t go too hard on him, ladies,” Teddy says.

“ Why? ” I ask, narrowing my eyes at him.

“It might make things awkward.” Teddy stares at the menu and shrugs with his typical nonchalance. “He’s coming with us.”