Epilogue
CLEO
June. The longest day of the year, and Dottie has the Summit open to half the town.
I'm at the bar with a chamomile I don't need and a laptop I haven't opened. The piece on Dottie ran in March. I didn't tell Marcus what I was thinking about when I wrote it.
The article brought visitors. Three journalists have emailed about Harrow Peak since it ran.
Dottie answers their calls the way she answers everything — steady, warm, not in a hurry.
I answer the ones about the SAR team, because Mace will not, and Callum answers the phone like he's confirming a hostage situation, and Thane doesn't answer the phone at all.
Four months. I have a desk in the corner of the SAR base that Mace cleared for me without being asked — shoved the radio manuals into a crate, wiped the surface down with gear oil because that's what he had, and put a mug of chamomile on it before I sat down.
The mug is still there. It lives there now.
Next to a stack of notebooks and a recorder I use for interviews and a framed photo of Ridge Road in winter that I took from the gas station parking lot the morning I almost left.
Mace is across the room losing an argument with Walt about the proper way to season a cast-iron skillet. This is his third-favorite hobby, behind mountain rescue and kissing me against the kitchen counter when he thinks no one is looking. Dottie is always looking. Dottie keeps score.
Thane catches my eye from across the room. Nods toward the door.
Someone new just walked in.
She is quiet. It stands out in a room full of people who aren't. Dark eyes that move over the space like she's assessing it for exits. Precise. Composed. Slightly out of place in Harrow Peak.
I recognize the look. I wore it four months ago.
Callum is three feet from the door. His beer is halfway to his mouth and it stays there, suspended, forgotten.
She doesn't look at him.
Callum's hand tightens around his glass. Once. Then he sets it down with a precision that means he's holding something much harder than a drink.
Oh, I think. Whatever this is, it started before she walked in.
The End
She told herself she was just curious about the town.
She wasn't telling herself the full truth.
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