Page 82 of Last Chorus

“Then consider it a loan. You can return it when you don’t need it anymore.”

My thumb grazes the surface his own has wornsmooth over time. A painful memory floats forward of him sitting beside my hospital bed, head down, thumb moving in circles over the metal.

“How am I supposed to know when I don’t need it anymore?”

He smiles serenely. “Sounds like a you problem.”

With a rough laugh, I press the catch at the base near the silver chain. The case pops open, revealing the familiar off-white face with thin, black Roman numerals, the hour and minute hands forever stuck.

“Thanks for the broken watch.” The emotion in my voice outweighs the sarcasm.

“That’s the point,” he says with a squeeze of my shoulder. “Nothing’s perfect, Wild. All of us are a little broken. If we let go of trying so hard to make everything work the way we want it to, we get to see how beautiful that brokenness is.”

I smirk. “Twice a day, at least.”

“Smart-ass.”

He stands and offers me a hand. I let him pull me to my feet, then close the watch and tuck it in my pocket.

“I’m going to find somewhere more private to call Kendra.”

He nods, pulling me in for another tight hug. “We’re with you, son. Don’t forget that.”

“Thanks, Dad.”

CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

evangeline

Find her tomorrow

Where the river begins

Listen for mayhem

A storm in the wind

There’s a protrusion of bark digging into my spine and a sharp rock under my thigh, but I can’t muster the energy to remedy either discomfort. Full-body goosebumps periodically burst along my skin beneath my jeans and sweater—not from the cold, but from the woman I’m watching walk toward the glow of the Ashburn’s house.

Katherine moves slowly and gracefully.Long hair, mostly gray now, spirals down her back. A green velvet and lace duster whispers lightly over dirt and grass behind her.

“It was never the darkness outside of you that needed to be embraced, but the darkness within.”

Her voice stays long after she’s gone, twirling on the breeze, airy and ageless. As does the challenge that lay within her eyes alongside a kind of detached compassion. Like she expected I already knew what she was telling me. Like the words themselves weren’t all that important.

I tilt my head back against the tree. A peel of bark snags my hair, but the tug and tiny flare of pain don’t register. Overhead, stripes of shadow paint the giant sycamore. Its curves are sensual, distinctly feminine, the lowest branches resembling arms reaching for what they crave most. Space, oxygen, sunlight. The promise of life. Of love.

“The dam was always meant to break, Evangeline. Let the last barriers fall away. Trust the current and the light you see ahead. He’s waiting for you. He will not falter—he will not dim. But hurry. A storm approaches, and only together can you keep the light safe.”

The shadows around me have deepened by the time I hear footsteps approaching. Awareness curls through me, opening my eyes as Wilder crouches before me. A warm palm cups my cheek. I turn my face to kiss his palm.

The air stills and thickens with unspoken words. I don’t ask him why he disappeared for an hour right after we got here or why he seemed so distracted when he returned. He doesn’t ask why I’m here instead of in his room or what Katherine said to me when she followed me outside.

He glances up at the tree, inhales shortly, then rocks back to his feet and extends a hand.

“Let’s go home.”

Home.

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