Page 27

I hid a grimace. “I, uh…I’m not sure. I don’t have one.”

I started to retrace our steps back down to the trail, needing to put my body in motion.

Dislodged rocks went sliding, and mud from the rain sprayed up onto my legs.

Harper was right beside me but didn’t say a word.

Giant waves of disappointment radiated from her body language, and I didn’t have to ask the culprit.

Being back in the position of disappointing others—a position I was extremely familiar with—made me want to curl in on myself and disappear.

Once we reached the bottom, I took off at a brisk pace toward the car, carrying our gear. Harper followed, and I felt her eyes on my profile, studying me as we walked. I bit my tongue as a slew of apologies threatened to burst forth—the standards my parents had set every time I let them down.

Sometimes it felt like I spent elementary through grad school apologizing to them, endlessly angling for a brief flash of approval that still left me feeling dismissed and lonely.

Endlessly angling for a brief flash of unconditional love that never really came.

“What are you thinking?” Harper finally asked.

I swallowed past the lump in my throat. “That I’m sorry I failed again. That I’m sorry you hitched yourself to the wrong treasure hunter, Hendrix, because I have no idea what to do next.”

A second later, her fingers closed around my wrist, gently halting my movement. “Hey…can you stop for a sec?”

I glanced up, surprised at the compassion etched into her face.

“You just told me that architectural salvage is about loving the mistakes,” she said.

“I know this analogy is going to sound so incredibly corny, but if this treasure hunt was some valued antique you discovered, you’d love it because of all the chips and cracks.

You’d love it because it was well-handled and had clearly been through some shit. ”

My lips twitched despite the panic threatening to overtake my body.

“And, to be clear, I haven’t hitched myself to the wrong treasure hunter.” She cocked an eyebrow. “I constantly annoyed you to let me come along for a reason.”

I rubbed the back of my head. “Oh yeah? What reason was that?”

“ Because …as much as this would have pained me to admit a week ago, I do believe you know what you’re doing, Eve.”

A tiny—but not insignificant—amount of peace settled over my panic.

“You’re right,” I said, grinning broadly now. “That analogy was really fucking corny.”

Her eyes brightened. “It was accurate, though, right?”

I sighed, letting my head fall back. “I thought this might have been the day we found out what really happened to Priscilla and Adeline. And I know that’s foolish of me, and I don’t have nearly enough evidence. I’m just out here chasing random instincts that probably won’t lead to anything, but…”

Harper hooked her pinkie finger around mine and squeezed. “If it’s any consolation, I got my hopes up, too.”

This sliver of affection from Harper, so freely given, yanked so hard on the center of my chest I almost fell forward.

“I can’t stop thinking about them, about this part of their journey,” I said, indicating the canyon we stood in the middle of.

“Were they…scared? Were they attacked? Did they muster up all that courage to leave their situation only to be killed?”

Harper bit her lip. “Priscilla and Adeline were never heard from again, at least not through formal channels. We know it’s a possibility.

As is the possibility that you’ll never really know.

But it doesn’t mean you and Monty can’t finally tell your parents the truth of who you believe her to be.

You can share what Priscilla’s story means to you whether you find these diamonds or not. ”

“You’re right,” I admitted. “I guess I always wanted to be the one to find the diamonds so that I could…”

“Prove yourself to your parents?” Harper suggested softly.

I looked away, embarrassed. “Am I that obvious?”

“You’re that human,” she said, repeating my words from earlier. “And trust me, I get that urge more than you know.”

I glanced down at our hands, tangling the rest of my fingers with hers.

“I don’t want them to treat Priscilla the way they treated me and Monty.

My queerness was this useful oddity to them, proof to their fellow academics that they were open-minded.

I felt like a helpful statistic for their reputation.

On display at dinner parties to be perceived and judged by their friends. ”

“You’re not a statistic. And you’re certainly not some doll that can be trotted out and displayed to make your parents feel good about themselves,” Harper said firmly. “They really missed out on knowing the real you, Eve. But it’s their loss in the end.”

My brows knit together at the ferocity in Harper’s voice. It felt protective in a way I normally associated with friends and Monty, never the people I casually hooked up with. It sent heat to my cheeks, a fluttering in my chest that was as pleasing as it was confusing.

“I don’t want you to go back to New York just yet,” I blurted out, regretting it as soon as the words left my mouth. I pressed a palm over my eyes and winced. “Sorry, that was—”

“Me neither,” she replied.

The smile we shared felt like a tentative beginning, even as every part of me knew this wouldn’t last, couldn’t last. But if we hadn’t been quiet in that moment, I wouldn’t have heard the scrape of rocks bouncing down the trail.

The soft sound drew my focus past Harper’s shoulder to what I first thought was a strange-looking log. But then it moved, sliding across the ground, too thick and fuzzy to be a snake.

I fucking knew what it was, yet my brain refused to accept what was crouching low near the rock behind us. Perfectly blended in with its surroundings.

Golden eyes. Twitching tail. Huge paws.

A fear like I’d never known before slammed into me.

“Harper,” I whispered. “Don’t move.”