Page 78 of Blindsided
As she disappears into the bathroom, I lie for a moment longer, savoring the peace before the storm. Today I might meet my sister. Today, I might finally get answers to the questions that have haunted me since finding that first letter. Today, everything might change—again.
The morning passes in a flurry of activity. Bagsare loaded into cars, last-minute provisions packed, routes checked one final time. Declan is in his element, directing operations with the efficiency of a field general. By seven, we’re ready to depart.
I find Kori by the car, double-checking her bag. “All set?” I ask.
She nods, looking up with a smile that doesn’t quite reach her eyes. “Yup. Got my inhaler this time.”
“You don’t have to do this,” I remind her. “You could stay here, wait for us to return.”
“Not a chance,” she says firmly. “I told you, I’m seeing this through.”
Before she can respond, I lean down and kiss her—a brief, tender press of lips that conveys everything I can’t put into words. When I pull back, her eyes are wide, cheeks flushed.
“What was that for?” she asks softly.
“Luck,” I tell her with a smile. “I figure we could use all we can get.”
Declan’s voice cuts through the moment. “Time to move out!”
With one last smile at Kori, I join Declan and Kat in the lead car. As we pull away from Wavecrest, I watch in the visor mirror as Kori stands with Wren and Rory, growing smaller with distance until they disappear around a bend in the road.
The journey to Glendalough passes in tensesilence. Declan drives with single-minded focus, while Kat taps away at her phone. I stare out the window, watching Ireland’s green landscape roll by, trying to imagine what awaits us in those mountains.
“We’re about a half hour out,” Declan announces as we pass through the town. “Last chance to get supplies.”
We stop briefly for fuel and coffee, then continue our journey. The roads grow narrower, winding through increasingly rugged terrain. The Wicklow Mountains rise around us, ancient and imposing, their peaks shrouded in mist.
“According to the map, we turn here,” Kat says, pointing to the sign that reads R756.
As we follow Kat’s directions and turn onto R756, the landscape transforms. The hills swell into mountains, their ancient faces scarred with rocky outcroppings that jut like broken teeth against the sky. It’s beautiful in a wild, untamed way that reminds me why Ireland has always felt more like home than Toronto ever did.
We pulled into the car park at Glendalough Upper Lake around nine. The lot is mostly empty this early, just a few hikers gearing up for morning treks. Declan parks near the trailhead, and we step out into the crisp mountain air.
“Perfect timing,” he says, checking his watch. “The others should be about twenty minutes behindus.”
I pace along the edge of the car park, too restless to sit and wait. From here, I can see the lake stretching out like polished glass, reflecting the mountains that cradle it. The morning mist still clings to the water’s surface, giving the whole scene an ethereal quality.
“Beautiful, isn’t it?” Kat says, joining me at the viewpoint.
“Yeah,” I admit. “Hard to believe something so peaceful could be hiding family secrets.”
She bumps her shoulder against mine. “That’s Ireland for you. Gorgeous scenery, terrible history.”
We wait in tense silence until the second car pulls into the lot. I find myself scanning for Kori first, relief washing through me when I see her step out, looking refreshed and determined. Our eyes meet across the distance, and she offers a slight smile that somehow steadies me.
“Everyone clear on the plan?” Declan asks once we’re all gathered. “We follow the Miner’s Path for about an hour. According to the map, the village ruins should be just off the main trail.”
“Any sign of company?” Rory asks, scanning the nearly empty car park.
“Nothing obvious,” Declan replies. “But stay alert.”
We set off down the trail, walking in pairs withDeclan and Wren leading. I fall in step beside Kori, while Rory and Kat bring up the rear, occasionally glancing behind to ensure we’re not being followed.
“I meant to ask earlier, did you sleep well?” I ask Kori quietly.
“Better than I have in weeks,” she admits, a faint blush coloring her cheeks. “You?”
“Same,” I tell her, as she takes hold of my hand.
