Chapter Twenty-Five Ella
Chapter Twenty-Five
Ella
“Ian and Miriam want us to check in when we get to the cafe. I told them what we were up to before we left,” Claudette says as we round the curve past Lake McArthur, the narrow trail opening toward the village below.
The water lies unnaturally still beside us, a sheet of steel reflecting the pale sky. Pine needles crunch softly beneath our boots, the sound loud in the quiet.
I glance at Claudette, frowning.
“That’s unusually strategic of you. Are you sensing something is off?”
“No, not at all.” She steps around a low root, her tone casual, but she’s not looking at me, her gaze scanning ahead. “I’m pretty sure we’re good. But things can always change. It’s just good practice to be cautious.”
Since when?
It’s not that I disagree. It’s just not Claudette’s usual modus operandi. Normally she barrels ahead, instincts blazing, consequences sorted out later.
Sensing my unease, she continues, her voice softening as the first rooftops peek through the trees.
“I don’t doubt Rhia was super careful, making sure Tiero’s men didn’t follow her. But if for any reason we don’t come back or call them on the satellite phone, Ian and Miriam know to contact Freemont.”
The village comes into clearer view. With each step, my anticipation has been growing, but this conversation is dimming it just enough for logic to seep back in.
“I really should have thought of that myself,” I admit. “But after we confirmed it really was Rhia calling, I got so excited to see her that it never even occurred to me.”
Claudette bumps her shoulder against mine.
“Oh, darling. That’s what friends are for. We complement each other.”
“Yes, but I let myself get carried away.” I exhale, slowing my pace as we near the edge of the trees. “That’s how things go wrong. I need to stop and think through my steps.”
She laughs. “That’s something I could benefit from too.”
We reach the first row of buildings, the trail giving way to packed earth and cobblestone. Before we fully step into the open, I grab Claudette’s arm and pull her gently behind a thick bush near the path.
“In that vein,” I whisper, peering through the branches, “maybe we should see if we can spot Rhia through the bakery window first. I’m sure it was her I spoke to, and I don’t sense Tiero anywhere nearby, but that doesn’t mean his men couldn’t be.”
Claudette taps a finger lightly against my forehead, her smile approving. “Smart, darling.”
If anybody was watching us, they’d probably laugh at our impromptu clandestine mission to be stealthy.
The bakery entrance is visible from our position, as are some tables by the large window.
We both lean forward to see if we can spot a redhead, but the tables are empty except for an older couple I’ve seen around town a few times.
“Everything seems calm and business as usual,” I whisper to Claudette.
But I’m not ready to let my guard down yet.
Underestimating Tiero’s men would be silly. Their expertise lies in deception. The dark corners and obscured recesses are potential hiding spots.
My eyes sweep across the scene, surveying rooftops, windows, and doorways. Nothing appears out of the ordinary. I’m actually feeling proud of myself for doing such a good job. My shoulders loosen slightly. Maybe I am learning.
Movement flickers near the corner of the bakery. A man steps out from the narrow alley beside it, dark jacket, cap pulled low. My pulse stutters.
I grip Claudette’s sleeve. “Hold on.”
He pauses, pats his pockets, then pulls out his phone, frowning at the screen. He glances up and down the street before knocking sharply on the bakery’s side door.
A moment later, it opens.
Claudette leans closer, barely suppressing a smile.
“That’s Barry, Wendy’s husband. They own the bakery. He must have forgotten his keys again. Wendy says he’s hopeless like that.”
The door closes behind him, and I exhale, tension draining from my shoulders.
Of course Claudette would know everyone in the village. She has a way of collecting people, stories, and small details wherever she goes.
“There are more people around than usual,” Claudette says softly. “But they might just want to enjoy one last outing before the snow arrives.”
We observe their behavior for a while longer, searching for any anomalies or suspicious actions that could indicate the presence of our adversaries.
“I’m actually enjoying this spying business,” Claudette giggles.
Then the glimmer of red hair in the café window catches our attention.
“Oh my god, Rhia is really here,” I whisper as my eyes land on Rhia.
She sits down at a table by the door, staring out the window, turning her head to scan up and down the street.
My vision blurs, and I bite my lip to stem an impending flood of tears.
Claudette looks at me funny.
“What’s going on?” she asks, taking my hand and squeezing it.
“I… I,” I hiccup, wrestling to get my emotions under control. “I don’t know,” I finally push out as the first tears roll down my cheek. Within seconds, they’re streaming like a torrent.
“I’m just so happy to see Rhia. I’ve missed her terribly, but I didn’t realize just how much until now.
Rhia’s been my best friend for most of my life.
She was my rock when my parents died, the one who never let me retreat too far into myself.
I can’t imagine the next few months without her.
” I ramble as I keep wiping the ever-flowing tears with a tissue.
“And I really hate crying this much… this isn’t like me.”
“It’s just the pregnancy hormones, darling. Go easy on yourself. Tara warned us that your hormones will wreak havoc at times.”
“I had hoped it was a myth that pregnant women lose their shit so easily. But…” I sniffle and grab another tissue from my bag, blowing my nose loudly. “But it’s clearly true. And I’m pissed about it.”
Claudette bites her lip to stifle her smile. Rightfully so. Now would be the worst time for her to give in to any laughter bubbling up.
“Why are the two of you hiding behind a bush?” my bestie’s voice suddenly asks.
Oh my god, in my meltdown, we didn’t even see her approach.
Great situational awareness, Ella.
Without saying a word, because honestly I still can’t, I launch myself at her.
Rhia’s arms wrap around me fiercely, and we both hold on.