She narrowed her eyes and looked Audrey over. “Okay. If you’re sure? But, while I’m here, I promise you’re not alone in all of this.”
Audrey wanted to cry because that felt real. It felt like she meant it. Of course, Audrey had Zora, who would do her utmost to be there for Audrey while she was away, but, for the first time, there was someone physically here who got it, who was on Audrey’s side, and that was completely new and different. “I know,” she said, her voice a little rough. “Thank you.”
Hallie nodded and stood up. “How do you feel about hugs?”
“Oh. Uh. Yeah, not bad.” Probably better than she did about the perfunctory ones members of her family gave her.
“Audrey, do you want a hug?” Hallie asked, and the power of that simple question was not lost on Audrey. A question, an offer. A request, sure, but one where any answer would be okay. There was so much trust and freedom in that.
She nodded, swallowing hard and unable to trust herself not to cry if she tried to speak. And she fell into Hallie’s arms.
Despite the numbing cold, being held by Hallie was warm. It was soft and safe and comforting.
When Audrey had towered over Hallie and River at Horrocks, she’d felt momentarily like a giant, but, as Hallie’s head rested on her shoulder, arms wrapped tight around her, Audrey didn’t feel anything but right.
Eventually, she released her grip on Hallie and stepped back, feeling more sentimental than she thought she should from a simple hug—thoughsimpledid not feel like an accurate descriptor.
Hallie smiled up at her, looking cold and tired and perfect. “Sleep tight, Audrey.”
“You too,” she whispered back, and she stayed perfectly still as she watched Hallie walk back to her door and disappear inside with one last look at Audrey.
They wouldn’t be able to look at each other that tenderly come tomorrow, but, for tonight, it was okay.
She shook the moment off and headed back into her room, realizing as she did so just how cold she’d gotten too. The house would be quiet now, everyone tucked up in their own rooms, their own beds. She’d be safe heading down to get tea, and she really didn’t want to go to bed without warming up a little.
The house was quiet, and, when she wasn’t busy concentrating on managing being around her family, Audreywas finally able to take in just how beautiful the cabin and its decorations were. Lush greenery, traditional red accents. The most gloriously charming backdrop for her to fall apart in. Naturally.
The only tea in the kitchen was chamomile. It wouldn’t have been Audrey’s first pick, but it was probably the best option for her in the circumstances
She was halfway through brewing, standing mostly in the dark, the blue glow of the kettle lighting the space, when a lamp flicked on in the hallway.
Audrey’s body locked down, trying not to jump and give away her surprise, as she turned to find her mother smiling at her. Michele Sinclair. In all her glory.
“Checking if everything is locked up for the night?” her mom asked, as if she couldn’t see the kettle racing towards a boil.
“Just getting tea. Sorry.” Audrey’s chest felt tight, her breathing painful. She wasn’t sure why she’d apologized. It was just the thing to do around her parents.
Her mom laughed but Audrey felt the way it was very slightly off. She’d spent more than enough time hearing her mom laugh to know when it was fake. “I guess you’re still on that California time, huh?”
“Yeah, maybe.”
“We ran into Mrs. Dixon the other day.” Her mom’s voice was loaded, expectant.
“Oh, yeah?” Audrey knew Mrs. Dixon, or she had done, years ago. She’d been Audrey’s teacher in third grade, and, by virtue of her family staying in the same town for generations, they ran into her from time to time.
Audrey always disliked conversations about her former teachers. They had a script that her mom pretended they weren’t using, and they always went the same way. One that left Audrey feeling cold and carved out.
Her mom hummed, busying herself around the kitchen despite there being nothing for her to actually do. They couldn’t just have a conversation, of course. Talking was something they did as an aside to other things.
“Yes,” she said, wiping the counter around Audrey’s mug as if she’d made a mess. “She asked how you were doing, of course. We told her you’re still out in California. She wanted to know when you were coming back here.”
Audrey tried not to wince as her mom laughed again. That one wasn’t real either. They’d had this conversation so many times. After every single time they’d run into someone she used to know.
She wasn’t entirely sure why her family kept pushing it, kept acting like they wanted her back home. When she was here, they ignored, avoided, or insulted her. Surely they knew nobody would be running eagerly back to that.
Most people wouldn’t be running back at all.
Her conversation with Hallie felt like a physical thing, pressing into her back, demanding attention even as it felt like protection from her mother’s barely concealed judgment.
