A sob escapes, sharp and raw, and I press a trembling hand over my mouth. I turn and leave it all behind. The clothes, the memories, the feeling of belonging that now feels like a lie.
Back in the living room, Phern’s standing rigid by the door, arms folded like she’s afraid letting them drop might soften her.
“I’m ready,” I manage, voice barely above a whisper.
She says nothing.
We walk outside, the silence between us louder than any argument. The cold bites at my skin as we climb into her car. The engine starts, but the heat never reaches me.
Every time I try to speak, she cuts me off with a glare that says I’m not worth the effort.
So I stop trying.
The road curves through the familiar snow-lined path to town, but nothing looks the same. Because everything’s changed.
We come to a slow stop on Main Street. The lights from Knot and Spur glow warm and golden in the early morning haze, but I feel frozen to my core.
Phern doesn’t put the car in park. She just idles the engine.
“Will’s meeting you at Knot and Spur,” she says flatly.
“Phern…” My voice cracks. “Please. You have to believe me. I’m not doing a story on Sam. You’re making a mistake.”
She stares straight ahead, knuckles white on the steering wheel.
“I’ll tell Sam you changed your mind. Make it easier forhim to hate you when your story comes out.” Then, with a voice as cold as the Wyoming wind, she says, “Goodbye, Charlotte.”
That’s it. That’s the final nail. I open the door with shaking hands and step into the street. Phern drives away before the door is even shut all the way.
And just like that, I’m alone again.
22
I’m lost.
Truly, hopelessly lost.
I don’t know what I’m supposed to do. There’s no plan, no safety net. No credit card. No ID. And no way to contact Sam. In our cocoon of love and fire and whispered promises, we never thought to exchange numbers. It hadn’t mattered. We had each other.
But now?
Now I have nothing.
Staying in town until he gets back isn’t an option. I have no way to pay for a room, no idea when he’ll return, and no certainty that he even wants me to stay once he hears what Phern tells him.
A thought strikes me, cold and sharp. The bed-and-breakfast. Crap. I took off in a literal flood and never even stepped foot into my room. Desperate, I head down the street, boots crunching softly over thawing gravel. I don’t know what I expect, but I cling to the fragile hope that maybe she’ll take pity on me.
The same woman from before is nestled in her reclinerbehind the counter. She’s got a knitting project in her lap and a game show blaring on the TV, which she mutes as I step inside.
“Well look who the cat dragged in,” she says. “Was wonderin’ if you died out there.”
“I almost did,” I murmur, and my voice cracks on the words.
She squints at me. “You have a friendly visit with Phern?”
My eyes fill, vision blurring. “Yeah.”
She tsks like she knows I’m lying. “Phern said you might come by. Damn shame you lost all your belongings.”
