Chapter 28
TWENTY-EIGHT
Finishing my chores around the house and ranch was akin to dragging myself through tar. Another week went by as Wilson, Esther, and Rae’s team buzzed around each other, researching and mending fences. While they maintained impeccable focus, there was a charge in the air that pricked my skin.
I couldn’t see any obvious way forward for Rae and me. The idea of one of us giving up our dream for the other was impossible to entertain, even for a second. The resentment would burn through our relationship faster than any other issue.
On the other hand, my body couldn’t take much more heartache. So why not enjoy something as freeing as what welcomed me every time I was in Rae’s presence?
She let me stew on it without interference. Her smile dimmed the longer we spent avoiding alone time together.
The day I decided to say something was the day the quiet woke me. I was the first in the house to be greeted by the chilly morning air. The hum of the heater had stopped.
I winced, stepping onto the cold hardwood, and started toward the thermostat. The stairs whined when I turned the heater up.
“Hello?” I paused for an answer that never came.
My gaze went to the room across from mine.
The team still used it in the morning. Their things littered the room: pages ripped from notebooks and spine-cracked books left open on the floor.
I stepped inside for a second, examining the writings on a small whiteboard.
Notes on trap-making, crossroad contracts, and seals flashed at me.
I frowned at a photo on the desk. It was me as a kid, frowning at a camera.
A peach tree stood behind me. My forehead wrinkled at the familiar curve in its trunk.
It had to be the same peach tree on the way into town.
I’d been in Alpine Peak before, but I hadn’t remembered being that close to Elmwood.
Near where the photo had lain, there was a sticky note with December’s handwriting. It had one question written on it:
Does Octavia know something more?
They still thought I was lying?
I frowned, studying the photo again. Was I lying inadvertently?
I folded the photo and slipped it into my back pocket, planning to ask Rae about wherever this string of thought led.
The air inside the house had become too heavy to breathe. My skin welcomed the warmth, but my lungs loathed it. I left the room and went down the stairs to escape to the porch. Cold air prickled my skin, a second wake-up call.
I tugged on the denim jacket I’d grabbed from the hall. It smelled faintly of Rae’s oat milk soap. We were still sharing clothes. I pressed the collar to my nose, closing my eyes as I breathed it in. The muscles in the back uncoiled in an instant. God, I loved it when she borrowed my things.
Fortune must have decided I deserved a break because when I released the collar, turning my attention to the yard, my gaze landed on a figure in the distance. Rae crouched by the perimeter of the ward, her hand pressed to the ground. She’d resumed our morning checks without me.
“Rae?” I called, but she didn’t acknowledge my presence until I reached her.
“Morning,” she said, half-hearted at best. Rae stuffed her hands into her back pockets, gaze still examining the ward.
I frowned at the sight of steam rising from it. From afar, it looked like more fog. “What’s wrong? What’s happening to it?”
“It’s weakening.” Her frown matched mine, but when she met my gaze, she tried to clean it up with a small smile. “But we should be okay for today.”
“And tomorrow?”
“Will have to worry about itself.” She pursed her lips for a second. “For now, we should try to fortify it.”
“How do we do that?”
“Like how we put it down before. Maybe the weather disrupted the circle; certain places may be patchy.”
“Right.” I nodded with a furrowed brow. “But I thought you said it didn’t matter if the circle broke because of the weather. That the wall could remain stable since we laid it down thick enough.”
“I did.” Her smile was a little brighter this time. I ached to experience the curve beneath my lips again. “You remembered?”
“Of course I remember what could mean the difference between life and death.”
Rae laughed, throwing her head back as if I'd said the funniest thing. I frowned, confused.
“This is just something we can try while we wait for Daylan or one of us to figure out something long-term. It’s worth a shot. Maybe we’ll learn something along the way that could help us strengthen our database?”
I nodded. “Sure, that’s fair.”
“I stored the rest of the dirt in the stable.”
“When did you do that?”
“After you gave me that chore list as long as my arm.” Rae stepped over the house ward, into the dewy grass of the ward leading to the stable. “Come on, the quicker we figure this out, the sooner we can get to work on other things.”
The mud squished under our shoes. Rae nudged open the stable door with the toe of her boot as if she didn’t want to touch the wood. She glanced back at me before disappearing inside. I followed, but before I stepped across the threshold, there was a shout behind me.
“Octavia!” Rae called. Her voice was a million miles away.
A million miles behind me.
I whipped my gaze toward the house. Rae clambered down the steps of the porch, rushing to me.
Her brown skin was more vibrant, glowing with life that the version of her that’d been crouched over the wards didn’t have.
I’d thought it’d been the low morning light.
The sleepless nights that’d dulled her skin.
Before I could take a step, the Rae that led me into the stable grabbed my wrist. Her nails broke skin, pulling me behind the stable doors and slamming them behind us.