“So, is this a thing now?” Ashley asked.
Fran cleared her throat. “Yeah, uh, I guess it is. We made it official last night. I should’ve told you.”
“I don’t know. Ash didn’t tell you she was hanging out with what’s-her-name,” John noted.
They pulled away from the Chokecherry, away from the buildings on Main Street into the unlit rows of houses along the lake. The Ford rumbled in the night and Ashley kept quiet. She should care about Fran’s dating life, but her thoughts were snagged on the cabin. On the ghosts. On Logan.
“You’re lucky we saved you.” Fran laughed. “God, your face. You have that face you do when you’re pretending to listen, where your eyes get all wide. You were doing it so bad talking to what’s-her-face.”
“I was not. She’s actually kind of interesting.”
“You’re just too nice,” Fran said. “We were randomly walking by and I was like, John, oh my god, she’s way too nice for this. She doesn’t know how to leave. We have to rescue her.”
“And we did,” John added. “You’re welcome, Barton.”
Ashley was glad they were shrouded in dark, because she was sure the face she made would start a fight. She wasn’t sure what was happening to her. Ashley Barton didn’t start fights. She didn’t argue with people. She didn’t have meltdowns in the woods.
They kept driving until they came to John Paris’s house. It was a squat, green house that fit neatly between two identical houses in different colors. John climbed out of the back seat and made his way to the door, but Fran walked quietly to the driver’s side window.
“Hey,” she whispered. “You know I love you.”
Ashley smiled. “Thanks. Love you, too.”
“I know you’ve got a lot going on. All of this … is it still Tristan?”
Ashley looked out the windshield. It was Tristan in a way that she couldn’t explain. It wasn’t just that he was missing. He was still here, lingering like a shadow at her every step. It was that she was seeing things she shouldn’t be able to, and no one would believe her if she tried to explain it.
No one but Logan, and Logan was a whole different problem.
“I don’t want you to feel left out ’cause of me and John,” Fran continued. “Like, you’re my everything. You and Tristan were such goals. I remember looking at you and him and thinking I had to find something like that.” Fran ran her shoe through the gravel at the side of the road. “We’re gonna find him and get him back. But…”
Ashley cleared her throat. “But if we don’t find him.”
“… if we don’t find him, or if something happened to him. I don’t know—you’re my best friend. Are you gonna be okay again?”
Ashley blinked at the porch light. It was a fair question, but it struck a place in her that felt like an endless pit. She felt for an answer, but there was only this dark, empty feeling. She put on a smile. “I’ll be fine eventually. Just … give me some time.”
Fran nodded. “Yeah … I mean, yeah, of course. It really sucks. But I’m here for you no matter what.”
“I think I just need something to feel normal again,” Ashley said. She pursed her lips. An idea bloomed in the back of her mind. She could hit two birds with one stone—get more investigating done without disappearing on Fran and the others. She could still make this whole thing work. “We should do something at the cabin. Like we used to.”
“That sounds really fun.”
“And I can bring Logan.”
Fran narrowed her eyes.