Page 98 of The Secret We Keep
That’s why I came out here so early. Sure, I’m freezing, but I enjoy the stillness. The calm of breathing in the fresh air as the world slowly stirs.
It’s also my new favourite place to write.
Reaching into my pocket, I pull out the card Sarah handed to me a while back. I’d completely forgotten about it until I found it in my bagthe other day. When I went to toss it, I don’t know, something inside me screamed at me not to.
Just like Holly did.
“You need to send him some of your work”,she’d said forcefully when I told her about what happened with Sarah.
Of course, I have no intention of doing so, but for whatever reason, this little card feels likes a paperweight in my pocket. I know it’s there. Pressing into my side like a constant reminder that if I want to, I could take a chance on myself.
Tucking it away, I pull out my phone, wanting to talk to my bestie.
“Who is this?”
I laugh under my breath. “Good morning to you too, sunshine.”
Holly grumbles.
“What time did you go to bed?”
“Well, if it’sseven-thirtynow,” she moans, “then I guess four hours ago.”
My eyebrows pinch. “Holly,” I say sternly.
“Oh stop. You know I have no choice.”
She does, but she refuses to take the easy route. “You’ll burn yourself to the ground.”
She moves around and the phone muffles. “Since submitting my assignments, all I have done is work.”
“I know,” I tell her. “When’s your next day off?”
“Not ‘til Sunday.”
My mouth drops open. “Sunday?”
“Mm-hmm.” She yawns. “Want to have a girls’ day? I fancy dying my hair and eating my body weight in chocolate.”
“Sounds good to me. Want me to grab what we need?”
“That’d be great,” Holly says sleepily, yawning again.
“Alright. I’ll let you go back to sleep.”
“Thank you.”
“Call you later.”
She hangs up, and I put my phone away. When I’m ready to leave, I pack up my things, cutting across the field and following the river back to the lower end of the village. I make my way down the track and let myself in through the O’Keefe’s gate. The door opens before I can knock.
“Good morning.”
“Morning, dear.”
Siobhan opens the door for me, and I slide off my boots on the mat.
“Did you get some writing done?” Her eyes flick down to my bag in my hand as she closes the door behind me.
