“I don’t know.”
For a moment, the line was quiet. “I was gonna text you, but it’s been weird. Obviously. But … I think we should keep going. If you still want to.”
“You wanna go back to the cabin?” Ashley asked.
“I do. I don’t know. I feel like…”
“… like we didn’t find everything yet,” Ashley finished. Her chest was tight with the need to know more. “Same.”
Whatever fear sat in her, whatever was waiting for them, Logan was right. There was more to find.
And if Tristan was still out there, she couldn’t give up.
* * *
The trip to the cabin was somber this time. The junipers blurred as Ashley drove down the lakefront highway, dead and brown from the sweltering heat. Logan curled up in the passenger seat with her knees tucked against her chest, probably to avoid the no-feet-on-the-dash rule.
“You weren’t at the funeral,” Ashley said.
Logan took a deep breath. “I know. I was gonna go, but it felt disrespectful. I don’t know.”
“It wouldn’t have been disrespectful,” Ashley said. “You were friends.”
“Not like that. I mean it would’ve been a distraction. Everyone thinks my dads have something to do with it. If my little gay family showed up at the funeral, that’s all anyone would’ve paid attention to. I didn’t wanna distract from…” Logan pursed her lips. “It needed to be about Nick. That’s all.”
Ashley grimaced. She wished Logan weren’t right. Something sat heavy in her chest. She blinked out at the sunny shore, blurry through the dirt-smeared window. “How did your dads react when you told them?”
“Uh, told them…？” Logan trailed off.
“About, you know—”
“Okay, you have to stop calling it that.” Logan ran a hand through her hair, shaking out the tangles. “You mean when I told them I’m gay?”
“Yeah. That.”
“Um, I mean, they didn’t really have room to be mad about it? They were definitely surprised, though.” She idly messed with the air conditioner vents without looking up. “Alejo was worried I just thought I was gay because of them. Brandon was really freaked out, though. He said things were gonna be a lot harder for me. Which always seemed weird to me because I knew lots of queer kids back in LA. When I was there it was never really hard. It was just, I don’t know, a thing.”
Ashley nodded. She loosened her grip on the steering wheel; she couldn’t remember when she’d clenched her knuckles.
“I get it now, though. They grew up here.”
The trees thickened as they reached the gravel turnout. The sun on this side of the lake used to be gold, but now it was too close. It was blistering, sitting too low in the sky. Ashley stared at the trees and ached for the shade between them. The more time passed, the more she was sure there was something wrong here.
Logan kicked open the passenger door the moment they parked. She pulled her hair into a short black ponytail. “I feel it today. I feel like we’ll figure something out.”
They made their way to the cabin. Immediately, something was different. Not like the nauseated feeling she’d had the first time. Ashley paused at the cabin’s front porch and held out an arm to keep Logan in place. The cabin was alive, but not as though with ghosts. Something rustled inside, groaning across the floorboards.
“Do you hear that?” Ashley whispered.
To her surprise, Logan nodded.
Ashley swallowed hard. She carefully made her way onto the porch and pressed open the front door of the cabin. She expected a wild animal or knocked-over furniture. Even ghosts seemed more likely than Sheriff Paris standing in the far corner of the room, inspecting the initials carved into the walls. His posture was careful, fingers delicate as they traced the decayed wood.