Page 47 of A Dead Girl's Guide to Living
Liv kept listing bucket-list stops and historic landmarks while Dove listened and asked questions, half turned in her seat, head resting in her hand like this was some casual Sunday drive and not the aftermath of suburban grand theftashes, with two of the dead now riding in the car with us.
I glanced at the clothing-challenged girl beside me, trying to reconcile her chaotic style with the calm, calculated person who had just orchestrated a literal heist of bodily remains.
It didn’t fit.
But I had watched her calmly prepare to go into the house. Watched her pivot the plan when Liv insisted we all go in. Watched her let herself in through the back gate like it was her second home. She’d even had the nerve to get frustrated with me for pointing out the fake security cameras. Then she broke in and carried out her plan without flinching.
It only went sideways because her uncle had, in fact, been home, something Dove had sworn was impossible.
No, there was more to the girl sitting beside me. And it was unnerving.
Somehow, through the fog of panic and disbelief, I’d managed to make it downtown and park on a quiet side street. The official Route 66 starting sign would be just around the corner, along with a coffee shop and, with any luck, a few minutes for me to catch my breath and pull myself together.
“Okay!” Liv chirped as Dove and I unclicked our seatbelts. “Photo time!”
“I’m getting a coffee,” I said flatly. “We’re already off schedule thanks to that detour, and now I’m making one of my own. One that’s legal and won’t result in jail time.”
I climbed out of the car and slammed the door a little harder than necessary. Dove scrambled out after me, and Liv floated effortlessly through the closed door, sending a shiver down my spine.
I locked up and turned on my heel, heading toward the coffee shop tucked between a boutique shoe store and a health food shop.
The bell over the door jingled as I stepped inside, the smell of espresso hitting me full in the face. I inhaled deeply, then made my way toward the vacant counter. The smiling girl behind it tapped at the screen in front of her as I approached.
“Welcome toMacy’s!” she said warmly. “What can I get you?”
“Black coffee, please,” I murmured, feeling myself thaw slightly. “To go.”
“Make that two,” Dove jumped in.
I glanced over my shoulder at her, watching as she stood there casually, hands hidden in the sleeves of her oversized sweater, her hair twisted into those ridiculous space buns looking relaxed and entirely unbothered.
“What?” I scoffed, suddenly drawing a parallel between her and the failed date I’d been on. “No matcha?”
Dove wrinkled her nose and blinked. “Ew, no. I hate matcha. I like my coffee simple. Also, matcha can block iron absorption.”
The answer threw me off. I wasn’t sure why, but I couldn’t find anything smart to say in response. So I stayed quiet, paid for both coffees without thinking, and stepped aside to wait, glancing around the café.
“So…” Dove started, rocking on her heels. “Did you have to leave anything behind at the last minute to do this thing?”
I didn’t look at her, too embarrassed to admit that no, not really. I didn’t have a life. I didn’t own a cute shop downtown. I could, in fact, drop everything for a spontaneous trip because there was nothing to drop.
And that nothing? It was intentional.
“Not really,” I finally muttered.
She paused for just a second before asking, “No school? Work?”
I grimaced and crossed my arms. “I’m supposed to be creating content this week… that’s about it.”
“Content?” Dove echoed, her eyes sparking with interest.
I sighed. “I have a YouTube channel. And a TikTok.”
“Oh wow!” Dove said, smiling. “That’s cool—what kind of content—”
“Two black coffees!” the barista called out, and I felt like the universe had just handed me a lifeline. I stepped up to the counter like it had offered me an escape hatch.
I handed Dove her coffee and grabbed my own, but my thoughts had already looped back to last night, to the way my mother had stood in the doorway holding a cup of tea she never drank. She hadn’t said the words outright, but I knew that look in her eyes. After years of seeing it, it was an easy tell. The worry behind it had only fueled the anxiety that gripped me while I worked on the schedule.
