As tempted as I am to avoid Isabelle after the incident with Wyatt, I need to face her eventually. It’s only right after the whole scene I caused in her restaurant. Plus, I really don’t want to spend the rest of my summer cooking for myself every single day.
I walk into the diner with my head held high and a smile on my face.
Isabelle turns toward the bell chiming above me and frowns. “You’re brave to show your face around here after the last time.”
I hold my hands up in surrender. “I come in peace.”
Her right brow arches. “I’m not sure you know the meaning of the word after you tried to choke our town hero.”
It takes everything in me to not roll my eyes at the way she moons over Wyatt. “I’m sorry for causing a scene the last time I was here. It was wrong of me to stir up trouble like that in your place of business, and I swear not to do it again. Scout’s honor.” I hold up three fingers.
She remains quiet while pinning me in place with her glare.
“Please take pity on me and my empty stomach.” I press the palms of my hands together.
She rolls her eyes. “Quit your moping and take a seat before you make me look bad.” With a flick of her hand, I step toward the booth beside the window overlooking Main Street. Lamppost banners hang from each streetlight to remind everyone of the fast-approaching Strawberry Festival I stupidly decided to volunteer for.
Isabelle slaps a menu on my table and leaves to go grab my orange juice.
I flip through the menu and decide on a turkey club before pulling out my phone to text Iris.
What are you up to?
Iris
Get a life.
My eyes roll.
Cute, Declan. Do you always invade Iris’s privacy like this?
Iris
Only when you’re texting her while she is napping.
Since when does she nap?
Iris
She wasn’t feeling well.
I’ll call her later.
Without Iris to entertain me, I’m left to play Candy Crush until Isabelle deems me worthy enough to have my order taken.
“What do you want?” She props her hand on her hip.
I pass her my menu. “A turkey club and a side of french fries, please.”
She scribbles the order on her tiny pad before leaving.
A white-haired man with a set of crutches struggles to open the front door, so I jump out of my seat to help him.
“You.” He sneers.
My smile widens. “Sheriff Hank. What a nice surprise.”
“Can’t say the same about you.” His eyes narrow.
“Don’t tell me you’re still holding a grudge against me after the incident Alana and I had with your police cruiser.” I only nicked his car with my side mirror, but he never forgave me.
I keep the door open while he hobbles into the diner with his crutches.
He shakes his head. "You should have stayed away. That girl has been through enough as it is between you and Victor.”
My smile falls. “Victor?”
Hank’s brows furrow as his mouth clamps shut.
“Who the hell is Victor?” I ask with a low voice.
Is that who you saw kissing Lana near Last Call?
Hank tries to circle around me, but I step in his path.
He looks up with a pinched expression. “Get out of my way.”
“Not until you tell me who Victor is and what he has to do with Alana.”
You already know who he is.
My fingers curl into themselves. Hank huffs and puffs his way around me, only to be blocked every time.
His gaze cuts into me. "Cut it out or I’ll call someone down at the station to come arrest you for being a public nuisance.”
“Make sure they’re gentle with the cuffs this time.” I hold my hands up in front of his face.
“You really want to know?”
The hairs on my arms rise. “Yes.”
“Fine. Victor was a guy Alana dated for a few months after her mom passed away.”
There’s your answer.
My stomach sinks. Fuck. “And what was wrong with him?”
“What wasn’t? The man was a walking red flag, although none of us paid much attention until it was too late.”
Acid crawls up my throat. “How so?”
“That’s not my story to tell.” His lips thin.
“Then why mention him in the first place?”
"Because if you screw around with Alana, we will run you out of this town just like Victor.”
I swallow past the thick lump in my throat. “I’m not here to mess around with her.”
“You better not or else.”
“Or else what?”
“Pray you never have to find out.”
21
ALANA
I kick the flat tire before teetering on my heels. My arms flail, but I catch my balance before I fall flat on my ass and drop the Tupperware of cocadas I spent a majority of last night making for Cami’s graduation event.
“Is everything okay, Mommy?”
I take a deep breath through my nose before turning around and facing Cami. She looks adorable with her tilted graduation cap and miniature gown that drags across the floor behind her like a wedding dress. If I had paid attention to my mom’s sewing lessons, maybe I would have been able to adjust the hem for her.
The same heaviness that has been present since this morning grows stronger at the reminder of my mom.
Te extra?o muchísimo, Mami.
“I need to ask for someone to pick us up.” No way will I be able to change a tire by myself.
The smile on her face dims. “Will we be late?”
I check the time on my phone. “Not if I can help it.” Since I always like arriving early to everything, I made sure to have enough time for any last-minute emergencies. I’ve come to learn with Cami, anything is possible. Juice spills. Missing favorite sock. A trip to the bathroom.
I choose to call Delilah first. The call goes directly to voicemail, so I dial her again, hoping it was an issue with my service. The voicemail picks up right away.
“Shit,” I hiss.
Cami gasps.
I open my purse with shaky fingers and hand her a dollar. “Why don’t you go put that in the jar for me?”
“Okay!” She grabs the dollar from my hand and runs inside the house, nearly tripping over the hem of her gown in the process.
Wyatt, the next person on my emergency list, goes straight to voicemail as well. I call Violet next in a last act of desperation, hoping she answers. Except like Delilah and Wyatt, she doesn’t pick up.
“Why is no one answering?” I let out a curse as I kick the tire again.
I told everyone to get there thirty minutes before the start time— Wait!
I slap my forehead. Whenever Lake Wisteria has an event with over fifty people, the area becomes a cellular service dead zone, most likely due to overwhelming our one cell tower. It happens every single year before our Strawberry Festival.
“Dammit.” I tug at my hair, the sting of pain grounding me. “What am I supposed to do?”
You could start with staying calm.
I pull up my rideshare app and type in the coordinates for Cami’s school. The nearest driver is located a town away and will take thirty minutes to get here.
Panic claws at my chest, turning each breath into a challenge.
A sunbeam bouncing off the roof of Cal’s shiny car catches my attention.