Page 57 of The Golden Hour

“No.” Her shoulders sag. I can’t be sure, but I think her lower lip trembles.

Fuck it.

I cross to her and pull her into my arms. She stands against me like a cement pole, her hands trapped between us. It has to be the most awkward hug of all time, but I’m not deterred. Plucking her hands out one by one, I guide them around my waist.

“Stop thinking for a second and hug me back. I promise it won’t hurt.”

She fights the inevitable for another few moments before succumbing—like I already have—to the way our bodies fit. We sigh together, our arms tightening, pulling the other closer. Like a constellation, our bones are the stars of a design bigger than the two of us. More beautiful together than apart.

For minutes on end, we stand unmoving in the midst of ruin. And for the first time in decades, the pain of the past is an echo instead of a roar inside me. A flicker of hope ignites, sucking oxygen like a newborn.

Maybe she is the answer I’ve been looking for.

And then I see it, illumined by moonlight on the earthen floor.

“Callisto,” I whisper into her hair.

“Mmm?” she murmurs back, rubbing her cheek against my chest like a cat. The motion goes straight south, and while the brain in my pants wants me to ignore what I see, the rest of me can’t.

“What’s that?” I ask, gently turning her sideways and pointing. “Right there, in the moonlight by the wall.”

She frowns. “I don’t know. Could be a strip of tarp that was buried?”

I hear the doubt, recognize the search for an answer that doesn’t hurt. But as we walk toward the delicate curve of white, there’s no way around it.

We’re looking at a bone.

“Oh my God,” she gasps, whirling toward me with wide eyes. “Tell me that’s not what I think it is.”

I don’t want anything to do with digging up a corpse, but I make myself say, “Only one way to find out.”

Grabbing a sliver of wood from the ground, I crouch before the bone and dig lightly around it. I’m not squeamish by nature, but as the dirt loosens and is swept away by my fingers, my gorge rises. I was really, really hoping it was a squirrel or rabbit. Maybe even a coyote.

Callisto steps closer. Before I can tell her not to look, she makes a wounded noise.

“That’s a human skull.” Her voice is steady, if reedy.

“Looks like it.” I point to the space directly beside the empty eye socket. “And I’m no detective, but I’m pretty sure that’s—”

“A bullet hole,” she finishes.

I wipe my hands on my jeans and pull out my phone to snap some photos of the skull. Weeks ago—even days ago—this would have made me shout in victory.

Now all I see is the deep sadness on Callisto’s face.

“If there’s one body, there’s more,” she says softly, then meets my gaze. “This is what you wanted, isn’t it? This will ruin the family.”

I stand, tucking my phone in my back pocket. “I can’t fucking believe I’m saying this, but I’m not so sure anymore.”

Her brows lift in surprise, though her expression doesn’t change, soft with shock and misery. “What are you saying?”

“I’m saying I don’t want to be a part of something that ruins you and your sisters, too.”

She laughs—sharp and dry. “Don’t go soft on me now.”

“I’m never soft when I’m around you, but that’s beside the point. I’m just saying we need to think about this. We have options.”

Like I knew she would, she ignores my poor attempt at humor. “You mean leverage.”

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