Total pages in book: 117
Estimated words: 113051 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 565(@200wpm)___ 452(@250wpm)___ 377(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 113051 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 565(@200wpm)___ 452(@250wpm)___ 377(@300wpm)
His eyes soften. “I do. It’s a very human reaction. It comes down to purpose. We want to find our purpose before our death.” A beat. The rain starts to pick up outside, spattering on the window. “Have you found your purpose yet?”
I let out a caustic laugh. “Are you kidding? No.”
Kincaid leans in slightly, a conspiratorial look in his dusky eyes. “I think you’ll find your purpose while you’re here, Syd. I really do.”
I hate how sincere he looks and sounds when I know he’s just playing to my ego and saying things he knows I want to hear.
And yet, I believe him.
“You called me Syd,” I tell him. “Does that mean we’re friends now?”
“If you’re trusting me, then I suppose that’s fair to say.” He glances at the clock on the wall. “Well, I think that’s it for today.”
“It’s only been thirty minutes,” I tell him.
“I like to break you in slowly,” he says, his voice becoming rough for a moment, a smolder in his gaze, and, fuck, I can’t help but think of sex.
“Okay,” I practically squeak.
“Better to quit when things are going well, don’t you think?” he says, looking cool and professional again. “I’ll see you tomorrow in class.”
And just like that, I’m dismissed.
“Are you going to get anything tomorrow when they go to town?” Lauren asks me. “I was thinking of getting a box of wine if you want to split it. I know it’s not very classy, but it should last a long time. Might be nice to have some at dinner.”
We’re sitting at the picnic table at the gazebo with Munawar, Justin, and Natasha. The skies cleared during dinner, so we decided to forgo the common room and watch the sunset. I’m sleepy, as usual, but force myself to stay up.
It’s a beautiful evening, too, a low bank of fog sitting over the entrance to the inlet and the ocean beyond. The water is still, and everything is bathed in soft gold, a raft of sea otters in the distance. Even the breeze is warmer than it has been, coasting over my skin, making everything seem magical. It’s a view that deserves a glass of wine, but…
“Count me out,” I tell her. “I’m cutting back on drinking.”
Last time I drank was when I showed up shitfaced to Professor Edwards’ house, and everything went swiftly downhill from there.
“That’s fine. I’ll get it anyway,” she says. “More for me.”
“How was your session with Dr. Kincaid?” Natasha asks. She’s normally quiet, barely says more than a few words to anyone except Justin, whom she’s been flirting with all night. “I really hope he doesn’t make me talk about anything personal.”
“It was fine,” I tell her. “And only half an hour to start. He doesn’t seem to be too invasive so far.”
“Did you find out if he’s married?” Lauren says with a wink, the setting sun shining on her hair.
“No,” I tell her. “That’s none of my business.” I want to tell her that married men lie too, but that would be opening a can of worms.
“You have the hots for teacher?” Munawar asks as he buttons up his jacket, looking visibly cold.
“No,” Lauren and I answer in unison, which just makes the rest of them laugh.
“Sydney!”
A voice calls out from behind me, and I twist around to look, half expecting to see Amani again, even though I know she went home.
“Who’s there?” I ask, though all I see are the bushes.
“What?” asks Lauren.
“I thought I heard my name,” I tell her, motioning for everyone to be quiet.
“Sydney!” the person yells again, further away this time. The voice sounds so damn familiar, but I can’t place it.
“There!” I exclaim, looking back at everyone. “Didn’t you hear that?”
Justin snorts. “That sounds like an elk bugle. I don’t think the elk here know your name.”
“No, it said Sydney,” I tell them, getting to my feet.
“Where are you going?” Lauren asks.
“I’m going to go see who it is.” I walk out of the gazebo, my ears straining as I try to hear if they call for me again, and head into the bushes.
“Sydney!” Lauren cries out as I hear her run after me. “That’s right, I’m calling you too! Don’t you know about folklore? Don’t answer things that yell for you in the woods!”
I had heard about that but figured it was some Appalachian stuff. At the very least, I knew not to whistle at night. But the person was indeed a person and very clearly yelling my name.
It really did sound like Amani, I think, but that’s impossible.
I come to a stop where the path forks, the right heading to the beach and the Panabode cabins, the other toward the main lodge. Suddenly, there’s a rustling sound, and I swear I see someone running into the trees beyond, pink cloth trailing behind them.