Chapter 2
STELLA
When I was seven, Grace was born, a perfect, pink, squirming newborn.
Overcome with love for this tiny thing, I made a promise to my mother.
I would do everything in my power to protect her and keep her safe, the kind of promise little kids make when they’re small and full of hope.
And up until eighteen months ago, I had kept that promise.
Of course, I never expected the lengths I would go to keep Grace safe.
As always, when I had something on my mind, I found myself walking the trail along the river.
The sound of the rushing water seemed to drown out any of my own twisting thoughts, and the soft breeze always brought me back down to earth.
Even when I passed families out for a walk, or someone with a dog, it never felt intrusive.
Everyone floated by in their own bubbles, focused on their own problems.
The trail was my safe place.
October blew in colder than normal, and I hadn’t dressed for the weather when I rushed out the door, so I resorted to stuffing my hands in my pockets to protect them from the crisp air.
I wouldn’t be out here long. I couldn’t expect Mrs Mullins to watch Grace all evening.
Besides, if she woke up, I wanted to be there.
I sighed, marching over to one of the wooden benches that lined the riverbank.
The dim light from the lamp post set a soft glow, a circle of peace over the solitary bench.
Overhead, a raven flew, calling out to another in a mournful cry.
Deep down in my heart, I knew hospice wasn’t the worst thing.
I didn’t mind caring for Grace, truly. She would do it for me in a heartbeat.
In the same breath, it was hard to be both a sister and a nurse.
And if these really were to be Grace’s last days here, she needed me as a sister more.
Her last days.
A jagged sob ripped through my chest, all the fear and anguish and overwhelming sadness rushing through the cracks as the tears I refused to cry in front of Grace poured down my face. It wasn’t fair. None of this was fair.
Grace deserved to have a beautiful life. One filled with love, and happiness, and half a dozen kids running around. She’d experienced far too much heartbreak for her young life already.
At twenty-one, I’d gotten the call that changed our lives forever.
I’d missed the first call. And the second, out celebrating the end of term with my friends.
The third call I’d picked up back in my dorm room, sobering up immediately.
My hand had trembled around my cell phone as I’d struggled to process the words coming down the speaker, the cop’s calm voice forever cemented in my brain.
A fire. Next of kin.
The fire that took my parents’ lives spared Grace’s, who had been spending the night at a friend’s house. To me, there was never another option. I’d taken care of Grace since, and still, it wasn’t enough.
I didn’t know how to accept losing my best friend.
Was that something anyone ever really accepted?
Or did we just pack it away to deal with at a later time, like the box of photographs our parents never get around to doing something with?
Next week, they probably thought. Next week, I’ll put those photos into an album.
Always next week, until the chubby-cheeked baby was an adult with a box of photographs of their own and nowhere to put them.
Maybe it was the same with grief. Next week, I’ll go to therapy. Next week, I’ll pack up her things. Next week, I’ll say goodbye.
I wasn’t ready for any of it. But time was ticking whether I liked it or not.
‘I don’t know what you want from me any more.’ I looked to the sky like there was someone up there who might actually be listening, when the reality was that I’d stopped believing in any sort of god the night I got that phone call. ‘Haven’t I given you enough? When does it end?’
The tears were coming harder now, dripping off the end of my nose and my chin. Grace was safe with Mrs Mullins, and the trail had been empty when I stepped onto it, leaving me free to drop the heavy mask.
Here, it was okay to be sad. It was okay to not make jokes, fake a smile or need to make someone else laugh.
A therapist would probably have a heyday with me.
I laughed to myself, thinking about the dollar signs in their eyes when I showed up to the office with a smile and years of repressed trauma.
The trees above me shook as the ravens flew off, scattering in the cool wind, leaving me alone once more.
I was too much of a lost cause, even for them.
‘Fuck.’ I didn’t bother trying to wipe the tears. I’d need to pack them away later, but let them come for now.
‘Bad day?’
I snapped my head up to see a man sitting next to me on the bench, staring at me in complete perplexion. I hadn’t even heard him approach.
My safe space intruded, I swiped away my tears with the back of my hand, sniffling as I prepared myself to lock all emotions back inside again. ‘I’m fine.’
I took a few moments to suss out my surroundings.
We appeared to be alone on the trail, but the trailhead wasn’t far away, and the road sat just beyond that.
I hadn’t run for a while, but I used to be quick.
A few years of community kickboxing didn’t make me an expert, but left me unafraid to be alone with this strange man. Besides, he looked genuinely concerned.
He cocked his head to the side, sharp, dark eyes examining me. ‘You don’t look fine.’
Pausing, I took in my charming new benchmate from beneath my lashes.
He was shockingly handsome, the kind of looks that made people stare, and very out of place here.
His crisp dress pants were better suited to a high-rise in the city, not my tiny riverside trail.
Old money, where the style changed little over the decades.
His polished leather shoes looked too nice to be good for hiking.
Black hair was pushed away from his face, dark eyes staring thoughtfully at me.
What was he even doing on the trail in the first place?
He sat just outside of the streetlamp’s glow, casting him in half-shadows. The stranger didn’t shift back and forth. Didn’t stutter. If anything, he seemed overly confident.
He pulled away, rummaging in his expensive-looking trench coat, pulling out a small silk square. ‘Here.’
A handkerchief. I took it between my fingers, wondering who the Hell even carried a handkerchief any more. He didn’t look that much older than me. Old money for sure.
‘Oh.’
The oddly comforting scent of something that reminded me of a forest at night lingered on the handkerchief as I dabbed at my wet cheeks.
His eyes lingered on me the entire time, although he said nothing.
Every move felt deliberate, precise. His silence made me more uncomfortable than his actual presence.
It would only take me five minutes, tops, to make it to the trailhead.
I knew Grace would tell me to thank him, and make my exit, but she always thought I was far too trusting of strangers.
Maybe I was, until her diagnosis, and strangers became the enemy.
Up until then, the kindness of strangers was the only reason we managed to stay afloat.
He hadn’t done anything to warrant my fear; if anything, he kept himself a respectful distance away from me. I held the handkerchief out to him with a smile. ‘Thanks. You didn’t have to stop. I’m really okay. I’m sure you have somewhere else to be.’
The man took his handkerchief back, tucking it into his jacket.
When he looked up at me, his gaze seared right through me, leaving a funny burning sensation in my chest. I could picture him in a boardroom, commanding a dozen men with that stare, or elsewhere, doing something far more illicit. ‘Not at the moment, no.’
‘Okay, then.’ For the first time since he asked me if I was okay, I was uncomfortable. I shifted on the bench, wondering how long I needed to stay to make sure it didn’t look like I was running away from him.
‘You were crying.’ A statement, not a question.
With a sigh, I crossed my legs, shaking my ankle. ‘I was, yes.’
‘Why?’ His voice was genuinely curious, not cruel or judgmental in the slightest.
When I opened my mouth to speak, the words didn’t come. So instead, I shook my head, leaving the silence hanging between us. It wasn’t the kind of story you told strangers on a bench anyway.
‘Are you hurt? Did someone hurt you?’
I whipped my head around, only to see his dark eyes, so dark, they were nearly black, staring at me with something deeper than mere curiosity. ‘What gave you that impression?’
‘You’re alone for one. You’re also not dressed for the weather, so I’m left to assume something fairly traumatic must have happened.’ He pushed his hair away from his face in an effortless motion.
‘You’re not exactly dressed for the weather either.’
He shrugged. ‘I’m not the one crying.’
The way he kept his attention on me was unnerving and I shifted back and forth on the bench.
A bitter laugh escaped my mouth. I guessed we were doing this. I was going to spill my guts to a random stranger. ‘No. Nothing like that. My sister is sick.’
‘Oh.’ The quiet fire in his eyes died off, leaving him pensive once more. ‘Is she in the hospital?’
‘No. Not yet. The doctors can’t figure out what’s wrong with her, so they’ve given us a couple weeks to tie up any loose ends, and then they want her to go into hospice.
They’re doing what they think is best for her, I know that, but I’m not ready for any of this.
She’s all I have, you know? And I know that sounds unbelievably selfish but—’
‘It doesn’t,’ he interrupted. ‘Make you selfish, I mean. It makes you human.’
I chewed on the inside of my cheek as I nodded. ‘Yeah. I guess it does.’
‘I had a family once.’ His voice was distant. For the first time, his eyes drifted off somewhere past me, lost in his memories. ‘Parents not in the picture?’
‘They died when she was eleven. It’s just been us for the last ten years.
I don’t know what I’m going to do without her.
I’m just trying to keep a smile on her face, and make whatever time she has left happy, and you know what no one ever tells you?
Smiling is fucking exhausting. I’m tired.
’ My cheeks flushed as I realized everything I had just blabbed to the complete stranger.
‘I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to say all that. I’ll stop now.’
He shrugged. ‘I asked. There’s no need to apologize.’ His long fingers drummed against his thigh. I watched them silently. An anxious habit so at odds with his precise, confident demeanor. ‘You love your sister.’
Tears began to pool in my eyes once more as I met his gaze. ‘She’s my entire world.’
‘What would you do to save her?’
‘Excuse me?’
The stranger gave me a half-smile, shaking his head as if what he said made perfect sense.
Which for him, maybe he did. Maybe he’d never been told no before.
Maybe he never cared. ‘What would you do to save her? Is there any price you wouldn’t pay?
Let’s say a miracle cure came on the market, but it cost a million dollars. What would you do?’
‘I’d work as many jobs as it took. Convince the bank to give me a loan.
I’d do anything to make her better. She deserves a full life, no matter the cost.’ I chewed on my cuticle.
‘But it’s a moot conversation. According to the top doctors in the city, there is no cure. Only a miracle could save her now.’
When he spoke again, his voice was soft, but steady. ‘What if I could save her?’
I choked out a laugh, tears forgotten. ‘I must be very lucky to have met the only miracle worker in the city.’
‘I’m not a miracle worker.’ His unwavering gaze held mine. ‘Well? What would you do?’
Strangely enough, baring my soul to this man had brought me out of my spiral. Surely, I could embarrass myself a little more. Besides, the answer was simple. ‘Anything.’
His drumming fingers paused on his thigh. ‘Are you sure?’
I ignored the electricity vibrating beneath my skin, and the way my hands wanted to tremble.
This was just a silly conversation, a way to take my mind off the situation at hand.
Nothing but silence surrounded us. I stopped wondering if I could outrun him because I was fairly certain I couldn’t. ‘Absolutely.’
‘A million dollars?’
‘More than, if it came to it.’
‘Your soul?’
I paused. A silly conversation. That’s all this was. Even so, it didn’t change my answer. ‘Without a doubt.’
A heavy silence stretched between us, as if even the air recognized the weight of the conversation.
Then, the stranger lifted his hand off his lap, holding it out to me.
Even his hand was elegant, large, with a bunch of silver rings adorning his fingers.
His gaze snapped to mine, demanding my complete attention.
I was more than happy to give it, to take my mind off everything else circling in my mind.
‘Your soul for your sister’s life. It doesn’t seem like a fair trade to me.’
I smiled, shaking my hair out of my face. ‘Grace would do the same for me in a heartbeat.’ I looked down at his outstretched hand, unsure what he was trying to do.
‘Well, are you going to shake my hand or what?’
‘Umm…’ If the day hadn’t already gone the way it had, I think I would’ve been more weirded out by our entire interaction.
But our conversation had already gone on for far too long, and I needed to get back to Grace.
If a handshake was going to get me out of here sooner, then so be it. I reached out and took his hand.
A shock ricocheted through my palm when our skin connected, and I moved to pull my hand away, thinking Mrs Mullins had texted me about Grace.
Before I could, the man clasped me tighter, squeezing his cool hand all around mine.
Just static, I told myself. He stared at me, through me, his cool, calculating gaze searching mine.
Whatever he was looking for, he found, as the man released my hand. I got to my feet, wiping my palms on my pants. ‘Well, I better be getting back. Thanks so much for listening, and, uh, have a nice evening. Thanks.’ I offered an awkward smile, backing away slowly until I reached the trail again.
‘My pleasure. I’ll be seeing you around, I’m sure.’ He got to his feet, stepping out of the warm glow of light once more.
I hurried down the trail back to my apartment, but not before taking one last look over my shoulder, just to make sure he wasn’t following me home.
Except when I turned around, the trail was completely empty.
No sign of the strange man. When I pulled out my phone, there was no message from Mrs Mullins, either.
Had it all just been a figment of my imagination?
I was exhausted, so it wasn’t entirely out of the question.
As I exited the trail, rubbing my hand that still vibrated from the shock of our handshake, I knew that wasn’t the case.
Maybe it would’ve been better if I was crazy.