Chapter Nineteen #2
I wasn’t a hiker. I never understood the appeal or why Lucas loved being in nature so much.
Sleeping outside under the sky and looming trees terrified me.
He used to say the woods tapped into our primal fears, that they represented the unknown and the uncontrollable, things you couldn’t fix by calling the police or flipping a switch.
That never comforted me. Quite the opposite.
Aside from the one time I agreed to camp with him up north, we never went together again. I preferred doors and civilization. Maybe it wasn’t as reliable as we liked to think, but at least it was familiar.
The forest was shrouded in eerie fog, its tendrils swirling and eddying in the stillness.
Rain dripped from the leaves onto me, and I tried to step carefully, avoiding puddles to keep my new shoes dry for as long as possible.
Lucas would have scolded me that dry shoes were the most important thing when hiking.
Nick, however, didn’t seem to care and strolled ahead with a clear direction in mind.
But his confidence soon deflated, and he slowed, checking the map on his phone.
Mosquitoes and tiny bugs swarmed around us, flying straight into my eyes and mouth. One bit me on the back of my neck, and it itched so badly I couldn’t stop scratching. The high-pitched whine of another zipping past my ear was enough to put me in a foul mood all on its own.
I pulled out my phone as well. The signal was growing weaker, disappearing intermittently. But as long as I could spot the next marker on the tree, I felt reassured that we hadn’t strayed from the trail.
"So, what’s the story with your mom? Why did she send you away?"
With nothing better to do and to distract ourselves from thinking about Sammy, we chatted about our families.
Nick’s face clouded over. "I’m not really sure. It was tough at first, but I got used to it. Oregon felt like home for a while."
"Did you miss her? Your mom?"
"I was just a kid. Of course, I missed my mom."
"And as an adult?"
He said flatly, "We’d grown apart by the time I was older. I spent a lot of time away from her when I was growing up. But it’s still weird that she’s gone."
We walked in silence for a bit until I mustered the courage to ask something that had been bugging me for a while. "Why did you come with us?"
"What do you mean?"
"You’re not looking into your mom’s death."
"We are looking into it. Among other things"
"No, we’re looking into Lucas’s and Amanda’s disappearances. And now, I guess, into Duane’s murder. How do you know they are connected to whatever happened to your mother?
"They have to be. But something weird’s going on, and my gut is telling me asking around about another murder might not be the smartest thing to do."
"I guess so," I said with a sigh and rechecked the time, noticing we had no signal.
"How far have we walked?"
"Three miles. You getting tired?"
"No, just don’t want to be in the woods after dark."
"We’ve got time."
We continued on, the leaves rustling and twigs breaking beneath our feet.
"So, you and Lucas, how long had you guys been together?" he asked, changing the subject.
"Almost two years."
"Were you guys happy?" Nick’s tone was casual, but the question felt intense.
"Yeah. For the most part." I tried to appear nonchalant, but my eyes darted away, unsure what kind of answer he was looking for.
Nick studied me before asking, "You still love him?"
The question took me by surprise, and for a moment, I wasn’t sure how to respond. It had been two years. I wasn’t the same person anymore, and if Lucas ever did come back, he probably wasn’t either.
I’ve learned that you can stop loving someone when there is a reason—a shift, a moment, something they do or say, or just the slow, quiet realization that you have moved on. It is a choice, conscious or not, and the feeling fades, dissolving into the past.
But when someone is ripped out of your life without warning, without a goodbye, it doesn’t work like that.
That kind of love doesn’t disappear. It just changes.
Shrinks a little, enough to make room for something new.
But it stays. I still carried it with me, settled deep, a quiet weight I’ve learned to live with.
Nick interpreted my silence as me being offended.
"I’m so sorry, I’m not sure why I even asked."
I shook my head. "It’s okay. I just don’t know what to say."
His face flushed with embarrassment. "It was such an asshole question."
"Honestly, it’s fine. And the most asshole question I was asked was whether I murdered him. So, you’re good."
A sad chuckle rumbled from Nick’s throat as he looked over at me, probing for signs of pain or hurt, but I kept my emotions in check.
The gentle uphill slope warmed me up, and I shed my raincoat and then my hoodie, wrapping them both around my waist, opting for a few mosquito bites over dying of heat stroke. Nick’s T-shirt clung to his back, damp from exertion.
We reached a scenic overlook, where the trees gave way to a stunning vista. The hills unfolded before us, fog settling in the hollows and ridges. Nick’s gaze immediately locked onto the mountain alignment. "Look," he said, "the three sisters."
"Okay?" I replied, unsure what he was getting at, and then remembered the witch’s words. "Oh."
"We should get off the trail here."
"What if we get lost? We don’t have food, and I’m the least useful person to be stuck in the woods with!"
Nick’s hands settled on my shoulders in a reassuring gesture. The warm pressure poured down my arms like sunlight. "It’s going to be okay, I promise. I’m not Mitch, but I know a thing or two about being in the woods."
I hesitated, peering into the trees, as if trying to see if anything dangerous was hiding there.
"I am not sure about this. We can get lost, especially without cell service."
"Whatever we’re looking for won’t be on the path anyway. Can you wait here, then? I’ll be back in a few."
I looked back and forth at the empty trail, weighing my options.
Staying here alone wasn’t the best choice either. What if wild animals saw me as easy prey, vulnerable in my solitude? Tilly’s ominous warnings flooded my mind, and I let out a nervous whine, quickening my pace to follow him through the dense thicket.