Page 1 of You'll Never Know

Chapter1

GRANT

“I think we’re lost,” I say.

“We’re fine,” Avery replies with a wink, her hand resting loose on the wheel of our white Jeep Cherokee as it rumbles up the rugged road. The Uncompahgre National Forest presses in around us, shadows flickering over the hood, the mountains rising ahead, looking ominous and indifferent.

“How did you hear about this hike again?” I ask.

“I found it on Reddit,” Avery says.

My eyebrows rise. “Reddit? Seriously?”

She shrugs. “What? It had a thousand upvotes.”

I laugh. I can’t help it. My wife is easygoing like that. To her, every moment is a cause for adventure—which I love, but right now I want her to pull over. I need to check the map. The road has split three times already, and I lost cell service miles back.

“Are you sure about that?” I ask. “Reddit also thinks birds aren’t real.”

“That’s not true,” she says with a grin. It’s a weapon she uses against me frequently. Anytime we have a disagreement, all she has to do is smile: fight over.

“It is, I swear. Look it up.”

She returns her gaze to the road. “The thread did say the trail’s a little hard to find.”

“I’d say it’s more than a little hard to find. Here, let me see if I can figure out where we are.” I retrieve my phone and try, knowing full well I won’t be able to get a signal. The forest is growing thicker by the minute, the trees crowding in on either side of the road like silent sentinels, attempting to block out the sky. “Actually, can you pull over for a second? We might need to turn around.”

“No, we don’t. We’re good. Look.” She points, and I spot the gutted remains of the structure ahead. It’s the landmark Avery told me to be on the lookout for when we first pulled off the highway—a cabin ravaged by a long-ago fire. It means we only have another quarter mile to go. Still, I can’t help but feel a twinge of dread at seeing a building that looks like a blackened skeleton half swallowed by the trees sitting out here in the middle of nowhere.

Avery pops an eyebrow. “Okay, you can admit it now.”

“Admit what?” I ask, pretending not to know what she’s talking about.

“You know exactly what.”

“Fine,” I say with an exaggerated huff. “You were right.”

“And?”

“And I was wrong. We’re not lost. Better?”

Her smile widens. “Much.”

A few minutes later, we break from the trees and into a clearing that takes my breath away. The horizon is drenched in a spectacular wave of color. Mountains spring up around us everywhere I look, all of them dressed in vivid suits of blue and green. The peaks climb toward the sky in a dizzying array of granite crags and vertical pitches that are so beautiful they almost look artificial. Living in Durango, I’m used to gorgeous scenery, but nothing like this. The view is stunning. For a moment, it feels like we’ve been transported to Switzerland.

“Wow,” I mutter, hypnotized. “This is amazing.”

“So beautiful,” Avery echoes as we reach the lot.

She pulls off the road and parks near a sign indicating the trailhead. I’m about to get out and take it all in when she reaches over and lays a hand on my knee. “Wait a second. I have something for you.” She slides a small box from the pocket in the door and hands it to me. It’s a present, fully wrapped and topped with a white bow.

“Did I forget an anniversary?” I ask, surprised. “What’s this all about?”

She laughs. “Open it and find out.”

I do exactly that, expecting to see a book or new wallet, but instead find myself staring at a framed photo. At first, I don’t understand what I’m looking at. It’s nothing but a black canvas with a white blob in the center that—

Oh my god.