Page 45

Phoebe

Then

As soon as Claire turns back to the Inn, I trudge onwards, using an old compass I picked up at one of the side-of-the-road tourist shops we stopped at during our drive to Jagged Rock to make sure I’m heading in the right direction.

Ten miles north, five miles west. I’ve pretty much engrained the Google Maps directions into my memory.

I think of what Claire said as I walk. I can’t just let you go. But she did, and it really didn’t take much convincing.

Suddenly, I feel more alone than I have in all the months I’ve been out here. Even when I thought I didn’t have Claire, she was always there, on the periphery. And I had Declan. I even had Ellery. And now all of them are gone.

A crack in the ground sends my sneaker twisting, and a shriek of pain explodes from my ankle.

“Shit!” The word echoes through the night, and for the first time I realize just how silent it is in the darkness.

But as I listen, waiting for the pain in my ankle to subside, I realize I was wrong.

It’s not silent out here. Sounds begin to hit me from every direction.

A rustle in the brush on my left, the scampering of light paws on the ground further ahead, a slight hiss from the right that has me lifting my feet just an inch higher as I walk.

You’re imagining it , I try to tell myself. But it’s too late.

I turn back in the direction I came, but I’ve walked so far that the Inn is no longer visible. I’m disoriented.

I force myself to take a breath, to look once again at where my compass is guiding me, to ignore the sounds of the Outback like I had minutes ago, even though they now seem to be screaming in my ears. I take a tentative step forward, testing out my ankle.

It holds, and I take another, but something else hits me. The surge of panic deteriorates into an almost all-consuming fatigue.

I haven’t had a good night’s sleep in days. And I’ve been so consumed with this plan that I’ve barely eaten. The only thing I had today was a bowl of cereal at breakfast.

As if on cue, my stomach growls, a low, dull roar. I clasp my arms over it, trying to prevent it from drawing the attention of whatever animals are out here.

God, how freaking stupid could I be? I’ve eaten, what, a total of four hundred calories today?

And I never even thought to throw snacks in my backpack.

There’s no way my legs are going to carry me one mile, let alone fifteen, and I’m sure as hell not going to lie down and nap with God knows what insects and reptiles are out here.

This whole idea has been ridiculous.

The only person I’ve told about my plan is Claire. She’ll understand if I change my mind. In fact, I almost laugh imagining the sheer relief on her face when I enter our room.

And suddenly I want nothing more than to be back there. To have a friend who can look past all the hurt I’ve caused.

I turn, before I can rethink it, heading back the way I came. As I walk, I allow my hands to caress my abdomen.

“We’ll make this work, little one,” I mumble softly. “Somehow we’ll make it work.”

I’ll go back to the United States and be the mother to this baby that I never had. It’ll be hard, that much is certain, but I’ll have help. I’ll have Claire. Maybe I can even move, join her in Illinois.

For the first time since I’ve arrived in Jagged Rock, the future once again feels bearable, if not—dare I say—bright.

Until I hear one word that shakes me to my core.

“Stop.”

I recognize the voice immediately, and my spine stiffens.

And that one word, enough for a chill to race up my neck, is all it takes to snuff out any hope for the future.