Weight of Guilt (Fog Lake: Homecoming #1)

Chapter 1

Chapter

One

TEN YEARS AGO

Christian’s knees hurt from all the running. But it was the good kind of hurt, the kind that meant he was having one of the best nights of his whole life.

His entire yard was full of feet. Christian could identify most of the people here by their shoes. Uncle Roy’s boots squeaked. A lady from church always wore sandals even when it got cold. One of his sisters’ groupies loved her black Converse.

Christian wove between all of them, ducking under an elbow here, a plate of cake there, chasing the last of the lightning bugs.

Someone had already cut the cake. Then Mom had stood on the porch and said Homecoming was finally available for everyone to purchase, and everybody clapped so hard Christian covered his ears.

Tonight, the porch had string lights across it, and the sound of his sisters singing rang through speakers set up there. They sounded beautiful together—everyone said so.

Later, they were going to do a concert in the barn. The space had been transformed into a concert hall with a stage and chairs, but it still smelled like hay and dirt. Mom said something about Southern Gospel royalty coming to celebrate. He wasn’t sure what that meant.

Right now, he looked for his sisters. Nora, his oldest sister, was serious-talking to a lady with a clipboard. Wren—she called herself the middle sister and said she had issues because of it—was somewhere with her best friend from school. And Marlowe—

His gaze stopped on her. Marlowe was easy to find. She always had the loudest laugh in any yard. Right now, she stood by the bonfire with some kids from the church youth group, her head thrown back, laughing at something one of the boys said.

She’d been assigned to Christian tonight. He’d heard Mom say so.

“Marlowe, you keep an eye on your little brother. A lot of people are going to be here.”

“But Mom . . .” Marlowe had said, a slight whine to her voice. “They’re all our friends. Won’t everybody be keeping an eye on him? Why do I need to go out of my way?”

“It’s your turn tonight.” His mom’s voice had turned stern. “Do you understand? In this family, we all share responsibilities.”

Marlowe had frowned. “I can’t ever have any fun! If I’m not singing, I’m babysitting. Apparently, tonight I’m doing both. Yay for me.”

Christian loved hanging out with his sister, and her words made him sad. But he’d tried to make the best of tonight’s fun, even if Marlowe was ignoring him.

For a second, Christian thought about running over now to show her the lightning bug he’d just caught in his cupped hands.

He didn’t, though. He might annoy her, and he hated annoying her. She was his best friend, but lately she’d been grumpy. Not always. But he never knew when she’d be happy and when she’d be sour.

To be safe, he’d tell her later. He had the feeling today was one of her sour moods.

Her gaze met his across the yard, and she made a little motion with her hand . . . as if she were brushing him off. “You should go play hide-and-seek or something. Give me some space, okay?”

A dull ache formed in his chest, but he nodded.

Maybe he would chase more lightning bugs. He knew they liked hanging out at the edge of the woods, so he wandered closer to the trees looking for any flashes of light.

As he got closer, he heard someone humming.

He paused and squinted.

Someone was in the woods? But who? And where were they?

He scanned the area in front of him. Maybe this person was behind one of the clusters of trees.

Maybe it was a boy his age, someone he could play with. His friend Josiah was supposed to be here, but he had a tummy ache. Christian had really thought someone else his age might come. And there were a few other kids here, but no one he liked.

Even worse, he was bored.

“Christian,” someone called from the darkness. “You’ve got to see this.”

The voice wasn’t loud, and he wasn’t sure where it had come from.

But someone had said his name. Someone wanted to show him something.

“It’s an Appalachian glowworm,” the voice said. “I know you’ve always wanted to see one.”

An Appalachian glowworm? His heart beat harder. He had always wanted to see one.

He loved bugs, and this glowworm was rare.

He opened his hands and let the lightning bug go. The creature blinked twice before flying into the grass. “Bye, little guy!”

He glanced back at the party one more time. Everyone was still having a good time, eating barbecue and cake and drinking sweet tea. Music still rang out, and everyone looked so happy. Even Marlowe was still laughing.

She didn’t turn his way. No one did.

He wasn’t supposed to go into the woods alone. But he could go just a little closer. He just wanted to see the glowworm.

What could it hurt to slip out of sight for just a few minutes?

“Christian!” the voice said. “You’re going to miss it. Hurry up before Marlowe tells you not to! She doesn’t understand how much you like bugs, not like I do.”

The voice was right. Marlowe would stop him. And he did love bugs. Whoever was out there clearly knew him—knew he liked insects.

He began walking toward the woods.

The grass went from soft to sharp under his bare feet. The prickling stalks meant he’d left the mowed part of the yard behind.

The party shrank smaller behind him with every step.

Then he crossed into the shadow of the trees.

He took one last glance back. He hoped he didn’t get Marlowe in trouble.