Page 141 of Into the Dark, We Go
The coffee shop was bustling with people coming and going, with a line forming at the counter. The smell of fresh pastries almost seduced me, even in this heat. We were lucky to have snagged a table by the window. Here, amidst the chaos of the big city, I felt safer than anywhere else. And for the first time since we’d left Black Water, I could finally talk about it.
"Is that why you called me back in Winter? To tell me?"
We hadn’t spoken about Nick since. I’d briefly told Mitch what happened, and he’d acknowledged it without surprise. I gave him everything I knew, including that I’d stolen the grimoire.
Mitch gave a curt tilt of his head, his eyes avoiding mine.
"How did you find out?" I asked.
A heavy pause hung in the air before he spoke. "Remember that private property sign? It kept bugging me, so I did some digging. Turns out it belonged to... well, you know who. Rest was easy to piece together. Figured he knew all along and was after the book himself. So I thought I’d let you know."
Mitch must have gone down the same path I had, only he’d connected the dots himself.
"Why didn’t you?"
His shoulders rose in a shrug. "You seemed happy, safe. Didn’t want to go ruining it for you."
We fell silent for a moment. I kept looking into my coffee, unsure how to feel about it. Always the one to tell others what to do, Mitch hadn’t wanted to ruin my happiness, even if it meant leaving me in the dark.
While I tried to decide whether it was noble or deceitful, he continued. "Sorry it didn’t work out, but I’m glad you know the truth now. Didn’t want to be the one to hurt you, that’s all. If it’s any consolation, I think he really did care about you, all that crazy stuff aside. Maybe you were the one thing that kept him grounded, you know?"
A weight lifted off my shoulders. Hearing that from someone else felt strangely reassuring. I didn’t know what Nick had been up to or what choices he’d been making, and I wasn’t sure I could have changed any of them. He may have tried to be the best version of himself for me. But in the end, I had to face the truth: Nick was a manipulator and a liar. There was no reason for me to keep sacrificing my life, holding my love like a burning candle for him, hoping he wouldn’t go off the rails.
"You’ve got nothing to apologize for. And thank you," I said.
"For what?" Mitchell looked genuinely surprised.
I looked at him and saw a different person from the one I’d met last fall. This new Mitchell had learned to let go, even when it hurt, and to prioritize others’ feelings over his own sense of righteousness.
"For being a good friend. Speaking of which..." I opened my tote and pulled out a large edition of a popular fantasy book, a little pun I couldn’t resist.
Mitchell’s eyes widened in surprise.
"Is this...?" he started to ask.
"Uh-huh," I said, smiling. "How do you like the makeover I gave it?"
Mitchell raised an eyebrow. "Disturbing. I’ll take care of it. It’ll be?—"
"I don’t want to know," I interrupted, shaking my head. "Just make sure it’s somewhere safe, where no one will find it."
"Why didn’t you burn it like you wanted?"
"I thought about it," I confessed, "but I was scared it’d do more harm than good. After all, we really don’t know what this is. I left Nick because he lied and put us in danger over it. But I’m not a crazy book burner."
Mitchell slid the grimoire into his backpack, and I breathed a sigh of relief. Even though I’d spared the book, having it with me again felt heavy with malevolent energy, especially after unknowingly holding onto it for so long. People had died over it.
Mitch suddenly leaned in, "I got a buddy to dig into Robert’s finances, his sawmill and all," he said, his voice low and cautious.
I stilled. "What did you find?"
"They wired large chunks of cash to him a few times. Couple times from real people. He wouldn’t name them, and I didn’t push it, didn’t want to put my buddy in a tight spot. But a few times, bigger sums came from offshore companies that got dissolved right after."
"Did your friend find out who was behind those?"
Mitch shook his head. "Nah. And he told me to back off, not to dig any deeper. Said if we start sniffing around them, they might start sniffing around us. So we just let it go. It just... ain’t right. Amanda’s life—and others’—were thrown away so some rich folks could get richer."
"So the people behind it were… powerful?" I asked, watching him closely. He had to know more than he was saying.
