Chapter 27
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Prime
The clubhouse was buzzing by the time we walked into the main room.
Lost was drinking coffee like it had personally offended him. Skull and Vin were hunched over the dining table, arguing about some timeline on the dry-erase board. Push leaned against the wall by the hallway door, arms crossed, and his eyes watched everything at once.
Pearl was standing at the coffee bar, digging through a stack of papers with a look I didn’t like.
Anchor stood beside her, brow tight.
“What’s going on?” I asked, guiding Shay to my side.
Pearl didn’t look up. “Late last night, I was going through the last box of Bernice’s things, and I found something.”
Shay stiffened beside me instantly.
Anchor scrubbed a hand across his jaw. “I would like one day where we aren’t dealing with shit.”
Pearl finally turned around, holding a small envelope between her fingers. “I hid it in the pile because I didn’t want to wake you up in the middle of the night, and then I was worried it would suddenly disappear. I’m apparently paranoid in the middle of the night.”
It was cream-colored. Old. Edges yellowed. Sealed with a thin strip of something that looked like wax and tape.
And on the front, written in a shaky but precise hand, was one word:
SHAY.
Shay’s breath hitched so hard I felt it in my bones.
Pearl crossed the room and held it out. “It was in a metal tin with some receipts and old newspaper clippings.”
Shay stared at the envelope like it might explode.
I slipped my arm around her waist. “You don’t have to open it if you’re not ready.”
Her fingers trembled as she reached for it. “If Bernice left this… then I want to know why.”
Pearl squeezed her shoulder gently. “We’re right here.”
Shay slid her thumb under the flap, tore it carefully, and pulled out a folded piece of paper.
Her hands shook as she opened it.
The room went silent.
Every man stopped talking. Every noise faded. Even the damn wind outside felt like it paused.
Shay’s eyes moved over the page. Her lips parted. Her breath caught.
“Shay?” Pearl whispered.
She didn’t answer.
She handed me the paper with a slow, shaking motion.
I took it and unfolded the page fully.
The handwriting was Bernice’s. I’d seen enough of her notes the past few days with Pearl and Shay rummaging through them all. Sharp, looping cursive with flourishes she must’ve learned before handwriting became a dying skill.
The letter was short.
Shay,
If you’ve found this, then the past is waking back up.
There are things your mother never told you, things she ran from, things she tried to forget.
I wanted to tell you myself, but I ran out of time.
Find the truth.
Find her.
She’ll help end this all.
-Bernice
I read it twice.
Three times.
Every word crawled under my skin.
Pearl covered her mouth. “Oh my god.”
Shay’s eyes were glossy, wide. “Who… who is ‘her’?”
Vin moved closer. “I thought you were?”
“Is it your mom?” Pull asked.
“No,” Shay whispered. “It can’t be. She died ten years ago.”
Skull grunted. “Someone connected to your mom, then?”
Push crossed his arms tighter. “Someone Bernice couldn’t get to before she died, obviously.”
Anchor rubbed his temples. “Jesus Christ. This keeps getting deeper.”
Shay’s voice broke. “How can there be more to this? Who else can there be?”
I wrapped my arms fully around her from behind and pulled her against my chest. She leaned back into me and sighed. “This is never-ending,” she whispered.
“We’ll figure it out,” I murmured into her hair.
“I know,” she sighed, “I just wish it was sooner rather than later.”