Into the Fading Twilight (Starlight Grove, #2) (3)

I held on to those words. It was one thing my memory hadn’t let go of during my seventy-two hours in a coma.

I could still hear those words as if Kol Archer were standing right next to me and making the command all over again.

Climbing out of the water, my skin pebbled as I headed up the beach. I didn’t let the cold settle in as I slipped on my shoes. “You’re alive.”

I needed that reminder even more today.

I climbed the steep path to the top of the cliff in nothing but my bathing suit and sneakers. My limbs trembled with the effort, but I kept right on pushing. By the time I reached my clothes and the bike I’d snagged at a yard sale for fifteen bucks, my heart was hammering in my chest and my lungs ached.

Quickly drying off and pulling on my clothes, I reached for my sunglasses. Even with the sun not at its peak, I still did better with them on. Adjusting the frames, I jumped on my bike and headed for home.

Home.

That’s what Brae wanted it to be. My best friend had worked so damn hard to make it that for me. A room painted a deep purple—one of my favorite colors. My old bedding, photos, and other belongings, my favorite candle.

But none of it … fit.

Or maybe I didn’t fit. Because while a madman had kept me locked away, the rest of the world kept spinning.

Brae had started over here in Starlight Grove, and that had included falling in love. Dex Archer wasn’t what I would’ve expected for my best friend, yet he was completely perfect for her. And I was over the moon that she and her son, Owen, had found the love they deserved.

Yet it made me feel like I was on the outside looking in. The third wheel—or technically fourth I guessed—throwing their routine into chaotic disarray. But I didn’t know how to make it better.

I pulled my bike up to the three-bedroom cabin on Briarwood Lane. It was so incredibly different than the small house we’d rented several hours south of here, in Oakland, California. There were no honking horns or music drifting out of windows. No crowded streets with an array of shops for anything you might need.

But, God, it was beautiful here in Starlight Grove. The small town, a mere hour south of the Oregon border, held endless forests and meadows and a staggering mountain peak. The babbling sound of the meandering Clover Creek, which lay behind the cabin, was calming. And the air … I inhaled again, Kol’s words echoing in my mind. “You’re breathing.”

This air reminded me of that. No smog or trash. Just trees and freedom.

The screen door slapped against the frame, and my eyes flew open. I was thankful for my sunglasses because I knew I winced at the look on Brae’s face as she stood on the front porch. Waiting. Worry creased her brow, but there was a hint of annoyance I could only place because we’d known each other for practically our entire lives.

From the preschool sandbox to now—and everything in between. When my family showed they were a complete waste of space, Brae made sure I was okay. She shared her lunch with me when my mom forgot to send one. She always invited me over after school so I had a safe place to do my homework. And she picked up the pieces every time my parents broke my damn heart.

So when she needed me, I hadn’t even paused to think it through. The answer was always yes. I’d moved cross-country with her when she ended up pregnant at nineteen and the father proved he was a douche of epic proportions.

And we’d built Owen a beautiful home. I’d helped her with diaper changes and three-a.m. feedings. Had been there for his first steps and first words.

We were a family. But it suddenly felt like I no longer belonged.

“Hi,” I said dumbly as I got off the bike and headed for the front path.

Brae’s amber gaze swept over me, taking in my wet hair and damp clothes. “Swimming?”

That’s all I’d told her about my sporadic disappearing acts: that I liked to go swimming. I knew it confused her because I’d never been one for the activity before, but she’d gone for it.

I nodded, forcing a smile. “Beautiful morning for it.”

My so-called swimming trip had nothing to do with the sun or the morning and everything to do with the fact that I was starting a job after months of little contact with anyone but a handful of people. My nightmares and anxiety were raging like the creek after a thunderstorm.

Brae’s mouth thinned into a tense line. “It’s cold. I’m not sure it’s good for you to be doing it so late in the year. There’s a YMCA a couple of towns over. I could drive you and—”

“That’s okay,” I said quickly. “I’m not cold.”

The goose bumps on my skin said my words weren’t exactly truthful.

“I just don’t want you to get sick. You’re still getting your strength back,” Brae argued.

I tried not to recoil at her words, but it was as if she’d reached out and slapped me. I didn’t need the reminder of how far I’d come, how far I still had to go, or how precarious the doctor warned me things could be for a while.

“I’m good,” I ground out, sidestepping her and heading inside.

I hated myself for the frustration I felt, directed at the one person who truly loved me. The one who’d never given up on me.

When my parents and brother found out that I’d gone missing, they hadn’t done anything. I’d learned later that they hadn’t even bothered to leave Rhode Island to come out to California. They hadn’t called for updates on my case. They hadn’t even reached out when I turned up alive.