Page 40 of What Happened on Roslyn Street?
I’ve never seen her as the type to get her hands dirty, but she doesn’t hesitate to crouch on the ground. I follow without thought, squatting next to her.
In the distance, Caldwell passes. There’s nothing out of the ordinary about it. He walks at a leisurely pace, donning the same brown coat he usually wears. He’s tidy, his slacks without a single wrinkle, and his hair perfectly styled.
“What are you hoping to find?” I ask, unsure about her plan.
“A trail, a location… something,” she whispers.
“Where do you think he’s going?”
“You ask too many questions. Have I ever told you that?”
“Many times.”
And she isn’t the only person who’s said it. My ownparents have been drilling the sentiment into me from a young age, and I try not to flinch at the reminder.
“Then, don’t make me say it again.” Margaux creeps out of the bush, strolling casually, continuing to watch him from a distance.
It’s dark out. She can likely see him better than I can, so I rely on her senses, only able to make out the vague outline of his lanky form.
“There are easier ways to learn his schedule,” I say. “He would probably tell me…”
“But would he tell you the truth?” She rolls her eyes. “You’ve been on one date, darling. That doesn’t exactly make youride-or-diestatus. He can’t trust you with his little secrets!”
“Probably not,” I mumble. “You couldn’t trust me withyoursafter twenty years of friendship.”
She carries on, ignoring my commentary. “Besides, we’re tryingmyway, remember?”
“This is your way? Stalking, really? I didn’t think you would be this type of vampire.”
“I’m not!”
“First, you follow us on our date. Now, this…”
“Keeping my friend safe is not stalking,” she says. “If I had stalked Poppy a little more, she would still be with us.”
It may be the first time I’ve laughed about Poppy since her passing, letting out a soft snort. “So, you admit it’s stalking?”
“Oh, shut up!”
“Wait.” I look around, frowning. “Margaux… where did he go?”
“He’s right th—” She stares into the distance, her eyes drawn to the spot where he disappeared. “Well…merde. See? If we had done things my way, without your critique,everything would be?—”
“Good evening.” An eerie, calm voice comes from behind us.
I jump out of my skin, hands reaching for Margaux’s as we turn to face the stranger with wide eyes. Only, it’s not a stranger.
“Caldwell,” I breathe, letting out a relieved laugh.
I shouldn’t be relieved to see him, all things considered. Margaux squeezing my fingers is the real relief, a reminder she’s there to protect me—and of her bone-crushing strength.
“I wasn’t expecting to see you like this.” He tilts his head to the side.
“Like what?” I ask.
“Walking with someone else,” he says. “Normally, you’re alone, no matter how much I’ve lectured you not to wander off at night.”
“She is?” Margaux asks, lifting a brow.
