Page 120 of Made for Wilde

I hang up without saying goodbye and immediately feel uneasy about the whole conversation. But the coffee maker finishes brewing and pulls my attention back to the present.

I pour two cups and add cream to mine while leaving Koda’s black the way he prefers. The mugs warm my hands as I carry them outside.

Koda has stopped chopping and leans against the axe handle. Sweat beads on his forehead despite the cool air.

“Here.” I hand him his coffee and note how carefully he moves to accept it.

“Thank you.” He takes a long sip and his eyes close briefly in appreciation.

“I need to run down to the school and pick up my trophy,” I tell him. “I left it behind yesterday in all the chaos.”

Koda’s expression immediately becomes alert.

“You want me to come with you?”

“No.” I shake my head and think maybe some time alone will help him clear his head and process everything that happened with my Dad. “It’ll just take a few minutes. You should rest.”

He looks like he wants to argue, but something in my expression must convince him not to push.

“All right. Drive safe. Call me if you need anything.”

“I will.” I stand on my tiptoes to kiss his cheek and am careful to avoid his injuries.

Back inside, I change quickly into jeans and a sweater, then grab my keys and purse.

The drive down the mountain feels different today. Heavier somehow. Everything looks the same, the winding roads, the pine trees, the valley spreading out below. But it all feels altered by yesterday’s revelations.

The beauty school parking lot is nearly empty when I arrive. Just one other car is parked near the far end.

My footsteps echo as I walk across the asphalt toward the main entrance.

The front doors are locked, as expected on a Sunday. I use my student key card to get inside and the hallway lights flicker on automatically as I enter.

The building feels strange when it’s empty.

My footsteps sound unnaturally loud on the polished floors as I make my way toward classroom three.

I push open the door and scan Ms. Patterson’s desk.

Nothing.

No trophy, no note, nothing that indicates Adrian was ever here.

Confusion prickles at the back of my neck. Maybe he put it somewhere else?

I check the other desks, the supply cabinets, even the floor around the instructor’s station.

Nothing.

A voice behind me makes me freeze.

“Hello, Charlotte.”

TWENTY-FIVE

KODA

The cabin doorcloses behind Charlotte with a soft click. I stand at the kitchen window, watching her car disappear down the gravel driveway, each breath sending fresh stabs of pain through my ribs.