Chapter 2

I am a coward. It is a grim, humbling realization for someone who has always considered herself strong.

—Ghost Lake by Ava Howell Brooks

Everyone in town seemed to be staring at her.

As she drove down Main Street in Emerald Creek, Idaho, Ava told herself she was being ridiculous. Why would they possibly be staring at her?

She had only lived in Emerald Creek with her grandmother for a few years, between the ages of sixteen and eighteen, and had been away for more than a decade, with only the occasional visit home. She probably didn’t know all that many people who still lived here and those who did know her likely wouldn’t recognize her anymore.

When she drove past the new-and-used bookstore, Meadowside Book Nook, she almost drove into the back of a big black dually pickup truck ahead of her.

Out of the corner of her gaze, Ava’s attention had been caught by the window display at the bookstore. The entire front window featured the red-and-white cover of Ghost Lake, with that moody line drawing of a mountain lake.

Oh, this was bad. Really bad.

Madi must be so furious with her.

What did her sister think when she drove past this display every day?

Maybe she hadn’t noticed it.

Ava knew that was a ridiculous hope. Of course Madi would have noticed it. And she was probably angry every single time she saw it.

Ava knew from her grandmother Leona in one of their frequent Zoom calls that Madi was furious about the book.

She didn’t quite understand why. It wasn’t as if Madi hadn’t known it was coming. Ava had tried to give her sister plenty of warning the book was releasing in late May.

When she first began to realize herself that her book’s journey toward publication was actually happening—and much faster than she’d ever imagined—Ava had been upfront with her sister.

Six months earlier, Ava had sent her an advanced reading copy of the manuscript, then she waited for a response. And waited. And waited.

When she nervously called a few weeks later, her stomach tangled with nerves, Madi had been nonchalant, even blasé. She had made excuses about how busy she was, still working at the vet clinic while trying to organize all the details to open the Emerald Creek Animal Rescue.

“Anyway, I lived it,” Madi had finally said as their awkward conversation drew to a close. “I’m sorry, but once was enough. I don’t really need to go over everything again.”

Ava should have pushed her to read the book. She should have made sure Madi wouldn’t be blindsided when the book started to receive prepublication buzz.

How could Ava have known everything would explode as it had? Everyone involved with the book had high hopes it would succeed, but even her publisher had to rush back to print more copies in order to keep up with demand.

Ava’s hands were tight on the steering wheel as she drove through town and finally pulled into the driveway of her grandmother’s two-story house, with its extravagant, colorful garden in full bloom.

She was relieved when she didn’t see Madi’s small SUV or their grandfather’s ancient pickup truck her sister drove occasionally.

Ava would have to face her sister at some point. Not yet, though. She was far too exhausted to deal with Madi right now. After she had rested, maybe. She was tired enough to sleep for a week, though she wasn’t sure even that would be enough to ease her bone-deep fatigue.

When she climbed out of the vehicle, her bones ached and nausea roiled through her.

She swallowed it down as she spied her grandmother working in one of the gardens near the house, wearing a floppy straw hat and a pair of overalls.

Her grandmother wore earbuds, her back to Ava, humming along as she clipped back her bleeding hearts. She probably hadn’t even noticed the car pull in, Ava realized when her grandmother didn’t come to greet her.

She moved in that direction and a German shepherd mix suddenly rose from the porch and gave a single bark. Ava froze, instant panic washing over her, icy and raw. After a few seconds, she forced herself to relax. That was only Oscar. He wouldn’t hurt her.

She hoped.

The dog’s greeting must have alerted Leona to her company. Her grandmother turned around, and Ava saw the shock in her eyes before Leona dropped her pruning scissors with a shriek and rushed toward her, arms outstretched.

“Ava! Darling! What are you doing here? Why didn’t you call to tell me you were coming? Oh, my dear. It’s so wonderful to see you, even though you’re far too thin.”

Leona reached her and wrapped those arms around her tightly, and Ava wanted to sink into the comfort of her embrace.

What would her grandmother do if Ava simply rested her head on her shoulder and wept and wept and wept?

Leona seemed to sense something was wrong. She pushed Ava away from her and studied her closely, blue eyes behind her thick glasses missing nothing. Ava faced her, aware of the deep circles under her eyes, the lines of fatigue she knew must be sharply etched on her features.

“What is it? What’s wrong?”

So much. Everything.

She couldn’t tell her grandmother yet. She would, but she needed time to figure out the words.

“I need somewhere to stay for a few weeks. Maybe even all summer. Would that be all right?”

Concern and alarm flashed over Leona’s wrinkled features. “You know you’re always welcome, my dear. And Cullen as well. Is he joining you?”

The sound of her husband’s name was like a stiletto to her heart and it was all she could do to remain standing.

“No,” she managed. “He won’t be joining me. Cullen is working on a dig up in the mountains near here this summer. Some fossilized bones were found on national forest land and Cullen and his team think it might be an entirely new dinosaur species.”

She tried to be casual with the words and not spill them all out in a rush. “He’s ecstatic to be leading the team. It’s a dream come true for him. You know what a dinosaur nerd he is.”

“Indeed.” Leona smiled, though that worry lingered in her gaze. “It’s a good thing he likes them. It would be odd if he didn’t, since he teaches paleontology. What a wonderful opportunity.”

“Yes. I’m thrilled for him. We’re both hoping this might help him make full professor, with tenure.”

“How exciting!”

“Yes. But he’ll be mostly out of reach for the summer and I...I didn’t want to stay by myself at our apartment in Portland. After only a few days, I couldn’t stand it, so I packed up everything and headed here. I hope that’s okay.”

She couldn’t find the words to tell her grandmother that her marriage might be as dead as those fossils.

“Oscar and I would be delighted to have you stay with us. Won’t we, Oscar?”

The dog’s tongue lolled out as he studied her. Oscar. Why hadn’t she remembered her grandmother and the dog were a package deal?

Every time she visited, she felt as if he were watching her out of eyes as sharp as Leona’s, waiting for his moment to swoop in and attack.

The dogs are growing closer. I can hear them baying from the next ridgeline. Could our scent carry that far? I have no idea, nor do I think I can ask Madi to go through the river again to try disguising our path. We have crossed it dozens of times already. Each time, more of her minuscule energy seems to burn away.

They bark again and my heart pounds so loudly, remembering sharp teeth, slavering tongues, wild eyes. Surely the dogs can hear each pulse of my blood, each ragged breath.

She quickly pushed away the memory, the words.

“Thanks, Grandma Leelee.”

Her grandmother’s features softened at the nickname Ava had come up with for her as a toddler.

“You’re welcome, darling. You can stay in your old room upstairs. I’ll have to move a few storage boxes out. I’ve been clearing out closets of all my old crap and have put everything in your room so I only have to make one trip to Goodwill eventually.”

“You don’t have to move anything. I can work around some boxes.”

“It’s no problem. I’ll put them in your sister’s room for now, since she’s living full-time at the farmhouse on the animal rescue property these days.”

Ava tensed at her sister’s name, though Madi hadn’t left her thoughts since she rolled into town. “How is she doing?” she asked, her voice low.

Leona brushed dirt off her overalls. “Well, you’re not exactly her favorite person right now. Let’s put it that way.”

She swallowed hard. “I told her about the book. I sent her an advanced copy. She had plenty of warning.”

“Yes. She knew it was coming. But you know Madi. She tends to focus on what’s directly in front of her. She’s been so busy trying to get the animal rescue off the ground, I think it was easier for her to put your book out of her head and pretend it wasn’t really happening. Now that it’s out, she can’t escape it.”

She had known the publication of her memoir detailing their months in the mountains and all the events leading up to it would be a pivotal event in her life. She hadn’t realized how every single one of her relationships would be impacted, from her casual friendships to the guy who used to fill up her car with gas to her fellow faculty members at the middle school where she taught English.

She wasn’t sure her marriage could ever recover.

You never told me half of the things you went through.

Cullen’s voice seemed to echo through her memory, stunned and upset and...hurt as he looked down at his copy of Ghost Lake as if it were a viper that had suddenly invaded their bed.

I feel like I’ve been married to a stranger for the past three years.

He had been the one to suggest they use their separation while he was working in the remote mountains near here to figure out what sort of future they could salvage.

I love you, Ava. That hasn’t changed. But I think we both need time to figure out where we go from here.

Her entire world was falling apart because of the words she had written. The same stark, painful honesty that seemed to resonate with the rest of the world now threatened to destroy the two things she held most dear, her relationship with her sister and her marriage to Cullen Brooks.

“Come on. Let’s get you settled before you fall over,” Leona said with a warm smile that made Ava again want to weep.

Her grandmother carried her laptop case into the house while Ava followed behind with her suitcase.

The house smelled of vanilla and strawberry pie, scents that made her stomach rumble with the reminder that she hadn’t had anything but a few crackers since dinner the evening before.

This trip had been completely impulsive. Reckless, even. After spending three nights alone in their apartment in Portland, she decided she couldn’t take the echoing silence another moment. That very morning she had awoken gritty-eyed from a night of tossing and turning. One moment, she had been brushing her teeth, the next, she’d grabbed her suitcase out from under the bed and started throwing in everything she thought she might need.

After talking to her neighbor about keeping an eye on things and picking up their mail, Ava headed out, stopping only twice during the entire nine-hour drive for gas.

What else could she do? She couldn’t go ahead with the book tour, pretending everything was fine when her entire world felt...broken.

She should have told Cullen everything. She supposed she had hidden the truth because some part of her wanted, like Madison, to pretend none of it had happened. To pretend they were two average girls with an average childhood whose average parents each had died tragically, a few years apart.

That last part was certainly true, though only a small measure of the whole, complicated, messed-up story.

One could make the argument that the first part, about two average girls living an average childhood, was true as well...until the summer she turned fourteen and Madi turned twelve, when their mother died and everything changed.

Being here, in her mother’s childhood home, only made her miss Beth all the more. Her mother had exemplified quiet strength and grace. She had been kind to everyone, the kind of person who drew others to her, eager to warm themselves in the bright light of joy that burned within her.

Ava missed her every single day.

Her phone rang as she carried her suitcase to the room that had been hers for the final two years of high school.

After sharing a room with her sister all her life, this room had been the first one Ava could claim as exclusively her own, and that was only because Madi’s room downstairs had to be outfitted for all the things she needed to help her rehabilitation.

She pushed the memories away and pulled out her phone. Her literary agent, she saw when she checked the display.

Sylvia Wittman was a lovely woman who absolutely wanted the best for Ava. At this particular moment, they couldn’t quite agree on what that was.

She sighed and let the call go to voicemail, as she had all the others that day.

Sylvia was no doubt calling with news about the various film and TV offers that had already come their way or to let her know some other book club wanted to feature Ghost Lake.

Most writers would consider it a dream come true to see their work go viral and generate so much interest on the national and international stage.

Ava supposed she wasn’t most writers.

She only wanted to pull her old comforter off the bed, carry it to the closet and hide in the corner until all of this went away.

Tomorrow. She would deal with everything tomorrow, after she had the chance to sleep away this exhaustion that had seeped into her bones, her sinews.

Then she would have to figure out if there was anything she could do to fix her marriage or the rift with her sister...or if the wounds she had inflicted on the people she loved through her words could ever heal.

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