Chapter 10
Moe
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Copper found him behind the store, leaning against the back wall. Moe couldn't remember the last time he left the store when he was supposed to be working. He'd woken with a deep clawing sensation in his chest, and nothing was helping.
He wasn't in the mood for company.
Copper leaned against the building and watched Moe the way a man watches a storm cloud, waiting to see which direction it'll break. Or if a veil would appear.
"You're changing," Copper finally said.
"I'm fine."
"If you say so." Copper inhaled deeply. "But that girl isn't."
"She'll adjust. We all did."
Copper snorted softly. "She's not a stray dog you picked up on the highway. She's a person. A scared one. A young one."
"I know what she is." Moe rotated his shoulder. "I don't need you telling me what you think."
Copper stepped closer, folding his arms. "You think riding her around town is going to fix what's broken in her?"
"She needed air." He shrugged. "She's still getting used to the routine."
"She needed answers," Copper corrected. "And you gave her none."
Moe met Copper's gaze. "She doesn't need to know everything."
Copper's voice softened, but it didn't lose its edge. "She needs to know something. Anything. She's drowning, Moe. And you're standing there watching her go under. Hell, you're dumping more water on her."
Moe's shoulders tensed. "I'm doing what I can."
"No," Copper said quietly. "You're doing what you know. And what you know isn't enough for her."
Moe finally looked at him. Copper held his gaze without flinching.
"You think I don't see it?" Copper asked. "You think I don't notice how she walks around like she's already a ghost? She's fading. And if she fades too far, this place will eat her alive."
Moe's fingers tightened around the cigarette. "She'll be fine. Kallie survived, didn't she?"
"It's not the same. Kallie had someone here she was coming to." Copper shook his head. "You kidnapped Jillian. She doesn't want to be here."
Given time, Jillian would feel more comfortable here. She would forget what was on the other side of the veil.
Copper stepped closer, lowering his voice. "What are you doing, Moe? Really."
Moe looked away.
Copper continued, "You brought her here. You keep her close. You sleep beside her every night like she's the only thing keeping you tethered. But you won't tell her why. You won't tell her what you want. You won't tell her what Everstill wants."
Moe's jaw clenched. "She doesn't need to know that."
"She does," Copper said. "Because she's breaking. And if you don't give her something real to hold on to, she won't survive this place."
Moe crumbled the pack in his hand. "She's stronger than you think."
Copper's eyes hardened. "She's twenty."
The words hit harder than Moe expected. He grunted.
Copper sighed. "You can't keep her in the dark forever. She's not a tool that you can use. She's a person. And she's hurting."
Moe gritted his teeth. He knew the pain Jillian was going through better than anyone. She was still young enough to want her mom. A mom who didn't have much time left on earth.
Copper stepped back, giving him space. "You care about her. More than you want to admit. But caring isn't enough if you're the one holding the cage door shut."
Moe's throat tightened. "What do you think I should do?"
Copper turned to leave, pausing at the corner of the building. "Storms come and go, Moe. And when the next one hits, you better know what you're willing to lose."
Moe watched him disappear out of sight, his advice echoing long after he was gone. Then, he went back inside the store with even more on his mind. He scanned the aisles until he found Jillian.
She stood in the canned goods aisle, holding a mop in both hands. A puddle of water spread slowly across the floor, creeping toward the shelves. She wasn't moving. She wasn't cleaning. She was staring at the water like she didn't understand how it got there.
His approach must've startled her, because she flinched and turned her face away, her shoulders tightening. But not before he spotted the way her breath hitched and the shine of tears on her cheeks.
He stepped behind her, gently but firmly turning her toward him. She kept her head down, her hair falling like a curtain to hide her face. He slid his hands up, cupping her cheeks, his thumbs brushing the wetness from her skin.
She inhaled swiftly, but she didn't pull away.
There was no reason to ask what was wrong.
She'd spilled her heart to him on the bike.
Shared her fears, her loss, and how he'd ripped every piece of her life from her.
He didn't understand the depth of emotions that pained her.
Didn't understand how someone could love that hard or hurt that deep.
He didn't know what it meant to have someone worth missing.
But he knew Copper was right.
She was breaking, and it was his fault.
Her breath trembled against his palms. She blinked up at him, eyes red, lashes wet. She looked exhausted. Hollow. As if his choices had pulled her soul into the same darkness rising through Everstill.
He wiped another tear with his thumb, slow and careful. She closed her eyes at the touch, not leaning in, not leaning away. She stood there, caught between collapse and endurance.
He didn't know how to fix her.
But he knew he had to do something.
He let his hands fall from her face. Yet he stayed close, close enough that she could feel his presence, his steadiness, the weight of his decision forming in the quiet space between them.
Copper's words echoed in his head.
Storms come and go, Moe. And when the next one hits, you better know what you're willing to lose.
He looked at Jillian, and for the first time, he understood exactly what Copper meant.
He had to let her go, or he was going to destroy her.