He was the one who had leaned in to kiss her that night.
No. She gritted her teeth. The idea was nonsense. She was not her father, and it was not that simple—if she would only open up and really let him in, Felix would come running back, and everything would be fine again. That made for a good story, but it wasn’t real life. What was keeping them apart, what had kept them apart for seven long years, was not just Nell and her inability to let go of the past. It couldn’t be.
“Nell—” Swann began.
But before he could continue, the old Toyota shuddered slightly on the slick road as Humphrey began to slow. The rain picked up, pelting the windshield, so thick they could hardly see through it.
“We’re almost there,” he said grimly.
Ramona leaned forward. “It should be right ahead.”
Nell pressed her face to the streaked window, scanning for lights, or telephone poles, or roofs, anything . . .
This is it, she thought breathlessly. The moment of truth.
Even after everything she’d seen—Francis disappearing at Swann’s home, Ramona’s shop, and the room in the NYPL—part of her still couldn’t believe in something as huge as an entire hidden town. A town that travelers drove past every day, that generations of families lived right beside for decades, unbeknownst to them all.
“Stop!” Eve said, and the car lurched into the brake. The tires rumbled as they went from road to dirt and sticks and finally came to a stop along the shoulder.
The silence lingered.
Nell looked at Humphrey. “Are we there?” she whispered.
He nodded.
She and Swann turned to each other, then out, toward the empty field.
It was bright enough that even with the rain, they could see clearly without the headlights now. Just beyond the car, the road gave way to little sprigs of green, tendrils forcing their way through the cracked asphalt, and then rapidly dissolved into a waist-high tangle of weeds. That tangle continued for what looked like miles. No lights, no telephone poles, no roofs, no other roads. As far as they could see, there was nothing.
Ramona popped her door and stepped out into the downpour. “Come on.”
They all scrambled after her, their hands over their heads.
Ramona led them, and Humphrey grabbed onto Eve, to help her across the slippery ground. Francis waved Nell and Swann on so he could bring up the rear. Slowly, warily, they moved deeper into the field.
As they went, Nell thought it seemed like they’d been walking without going anywhere. That they should have been farther than they were. As if the field kept lengthening, swallowing them up.
It felt like the whole world was off by one degree. Everything in its right place at first glance, but tilted ever so slightly.
Stop it, she told herself. It’s just a field.
And it was. She turned around—the car was right where they had been parked along the shoulder. The road was where it had always been.
It was still just a field.
“Nell,” someone said—but it wasn’t one of them. “Nell.”
They all froze.
It was a voice she’d never expected to hear. Not then, in that place, or ever again.
Slowly, she turned toward the sound.
“Felix,” she whispered.
Felix was there—her heart clenched—standing stiffly in the middle of the grass. Beside him was a large duffel bag, zipped closed against the rain so she couldn’t see what was inside, but emblazoned with the unmistakable icy white-and-blue Haberson Global corporate logo.