Total pages in book: 166
Estimated words: 157273 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 786(@200wpm)___ 629(@250wpm)___ 524(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 157273 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 786(@200wpm)___ 629(@250wpm)___ 524(@300wpm)
I pulled the sleeves of Hudson’s sweatshirt down over my hands. “It’s not without its challenges,” I admitted, finally starting to see Caroline clearly. She wasn’t horrid—she was still grieving, still scared.
“Right.” She nodded. “I know you lost a sister. People who have suffered like us know that there’s no such thing as having everything, and when it comes to the unknown, there are prices I’m unwilling to let Juniper pay. So for now, I’ll make the tough choices. I’ll be the bad guy.”
“I get it.” I cleared my throat and decided not to push my luck by asking anything else. “I’m going to walk down to them.”
She nodded. “Tell Juniper I’m waiting for her, would you? I want to be sure the fire’s out.”
“Sure thing.” I stood, and Hudson’s hoodie fell to my thighs as I walked around the campfire, then down to the shore. Thankfully the moon was out and full, lighting the way and allowing me to dodge the roots and rocks that could have twisted my ankle.
Juniper laughed as Hudson spun her again, and my heart clenched. She might not be here if Hudson wasn’t so good at what he did. I’d figured we’d have time for me to tell her more about Lina, time for her to know us, but if today had shown me anything, it was that time wasn’t a given.
“Hey,” Hudson said, smiling at me as Juniper wound down from her last whirl, giggling.
“Hey.” I glanced back at the campfire quickly. “Please do me a favor and go keep Caroline busy for a second?”
His smile faded, but he nodded, then headed up to the campfire.
Juniper recovered from her laughing fit with a sigh, hugging the top of the tire swing, and I crouched down in front of her.
“You feeling okay after today?” I asked softly.
Her expression sobered. “For a second, before Uncle Hudson found me, I thought I might die . . . like my mother.”
My heart seized. “But you didn’t.”
“No.” Her forehead puckered. “But all day I was thinking that my last words would have been watch this, to Melody. And then I thought that at least I’d have last words, but no one remembers my mother’s,” she finished in a whisper. “It’s weird, I know. But I wish somebody remembered them.”
“Me too.” I nodded. “Would it help if I told you what I do remember?”
“Not if it hurts you.”
“Let’s see how far I can get.” I forced a smile. “A lot of why it hurts so much is because what I remember doesn’t match all the evidence, so I wasn’t allowed to talk about it.” Not until I’d hired my own therapist a few years ago.
“Okay,” Juniper said slowly. “I’d like to know.”
I breathed in and fought to steady my heartbeat. “I don’t remember anything solid after the Classic. I remember winning, and the contract offers, and seeing your uncle. We made plans to meet up that night, but—” I swallowed. Obviously I hadn’t shown, which had probably contributed to him walking away. “Anyway, I was told we were on the road home from the Company reception. I remember listening to Coldplay, and Lina laughing as we took the curve—she was always laughing, always the first with a joke. I think out of the four of us, she was always the most . . . alive, the most certain of herself. Like you.”
“Like me,” Juniper whispered.
“Yeah. There’s a lot of her in you. Your smile, and your laugh, and your grace in the studio . . . that’s Lina.” I glanced over her shoulder and noted that Hudson was pouring water onto the fire. “Basically, I remember the feelings from that night, even if the events are kind of spliced together out of order in my mind like a bunch of messed-up film.”
She leaned forward, resting her chin on the tire.
I chose my next words very carefully.
“My memory says that she told me that she loved me, and to follow my heart.” My throat didn’t tighten like it usually did when I denied the memory. “And she tucked her ring into my front pocket and asked me to take care of what she’d left behind.” I squeezed her hand. “I used to think she meant Anne and Eva, but now I wonder if she meant you.”
She squeezed back, her wide eyes locked on mine. “She left you a ring?”
“Yep.” I looked over her shoulder and saw Hudson and Caroline walking this way, a definite apology lining Hudson’s face. Time was up. “It’s an heirloom from our great-grandmother. Your great-great-grandmother. My father gave it to my mom as a promise ring, and she gave it to Lina when she won the Classic her year. Guess it was more like a promise to marry our dreams instead of a guy. Lina wore it every day. Only took it off for rehearsal.” I sighed.