Page 25 of Haunted Hearts
We’re quiet a moment, both staring at the phone screen. I’m not sure what else to say. As thankful as I am, as impressed as I am with the rendering, it’s only a small piece of the building. Preservation of a banister does not a historical landmark make. But it’s something—and right now, something is all I need. It means there’s hope.
Will’s voice breaks into the silence. “Hey, can I ask you something?”
I look up at him to see him watching me closely. “Sure.”
“I don’t know exactly how to word this, but… what’s your deal with this place? Why are you so desperate to keep it the way it is?”
I sigh. Then I take a deep breath and tell him something I’ve never told anyone except Autumn. Because no one’s ever bothered to ask.
“My mom died of cancer when I was ten. My dad… he couldn’t take it. He sort of checked out, left me to fend for myself. He wasthere, I guess, like physicallythere, but mentally… emotionally…” I trail off because it sucks thinking about it. “I used to come here every day. While my dad was drunk in front of the TV, or at the bar or whatever, I came here to feel safe. And to feel close to my mom. She used to be the librarian here, and she and the building and all my memories of being loved are kind of… wrapped up together.”
Will looks through the big front window, out at the street. Mounds of crisp, orange leaves litter the sidewalks, and he stands, studying them. He doesn’t say anything, so I continue.
“I kind of always hoped… I don’t know, that I’dfeelher somehow. That she’d send me some kind of message. I know that probably sounds stupid.”
He looks at me sharply. “It doesn’t sound stupid.”
“No?”
“No.”
I sigh. “Well, it doesn’t matter. I’ve hung around here all these years—hell, even became the assistant librarian—and nothing. I’m probably just crazy.”
Will gives a weird sort of chuckle. “I doubt that.”
In this moment, with him standing there in the middle of the mid-afternoon sunlight streaming through the windows, I have the sudden thought that the only thing I feel truly crazy about is him. I push the thought down.
It’s only a thought, after all. It doesn’t mean it’s real.
“I’m still holding out hope I’ll see her—feel her?—one last time. But once this place is renovated…” I trail off, shrugging. “It won’t be the same place. I don’t think she’ll be here.”
Will is looking at me strangely, with an expression I can’t read. He’s probably listening to me talk, essentially drone on about ghosts or spirits or whatever you want to call it, and thinking to himself what an idiot I am.
EvenIthink I sound idiotic, saying this stuff out loud. I need to learn when to shut it. It’s clear I haven’t been able to grieve my mom properly.
Will clears his throat, interrupting my thoughts. “Well, I don’t know about any of that, but I’m happy to keep you in the loop regarding the plans and design. As you know, we’ve got a lot of the stuff already nailed down, but if there are any small, yet meaningful alterations I can make—like this one, keeping in that banister—feel free to let me know.”
I raise my eyebrows. “Does Ethan Wilde know about this offer?”
Will gives a harsh laugh. “Don’t push your luck, Chandler. Give me your phone.”
I don’t even know what to think anymore, so I hand over my phone and watch as Will saves his number to my contacts. When he passes my phone back to me, I feel the brush of his rough fingers against mine and my stomach flutters.
“I’ll see you around,” Will says.
As he gives me a nod and heads out the door, I turn and walk numbly back to my desk. I don’t know whatanyof that just was, but my stomach’s light and jumpy, and I realize suddenly that I’m not mad about it. I’m not mad about it at all.
fifteen
LYDIA
Lydia: He gave me his number.
Autumn: HE DID NOT.
Lydia: Doesn’t mean anything.
Autumn: Bullshit. The enemy is closing in.
