“No,” they both answered together, and I smiled. My ears popped and the engines made a noise. I closed my eyes tightly.
“It’s just the engines slowing after lift,” Julian supplied, and I shook my head.
“Don’t tell me, okay? I feel like that makes it worse.”
Barrett kissed my cheek. “Jer’s right. We need a vacation. A big one. For many, many reasons.”
Despite my terror, the turbulence was minimal, and I actually dozed on Barrett’s shoulder. He smelled familiar, and the plane was quiet, filled with the sounds of the guys breathing and the airplane traveling through the sky toward the Hamptons where we would go to collect the rest of Phoenix’s memory and maybe let my hair grow in for a while before I had to be a Monk.
It was hard to imagine that could actually happen. I wasn’t a Monk. I wasn’t even sure that I could be a Lent. They had to be so constantly on to not have their truths exposed. I didn’t know if I’d be any good at it or make it worse for them. But I wasn’t giving them up. I could potentially avoid taking ownership of being a Monk. But I would be a Lent because I needed them like air.
I jolted as the feeling of descent struck my ears. Barrett read a magazine that had cars on it, and he looked up at me when I woke.
“Hey. You’re okay. We’ve just started our descent.”
That was what I figured. “I’ll work out how to be a Lent. And not be embarrassing.”
“You could never be embarrassing. You’re everything. You’re all the whys.”
I wasn’t how Barrett saw me. But I loved that he did.
17
Ihadn’t expected the beach to look so quiet, so impossibly still. The cold had swept across the sand like a hush, leaving everything dusted in white—snow clinging to the rooftops, the paths, even the edges of the bay. I walked toward the house, wishing I had boots, my sneakers pressing deep into the packed sand, my breath fogging just enough to feel the bite in the air. The house loomed in a way it hadn’t in summer—less like a backdrop and more like something ancient and watching. Or maybe I just felt that way because I knew what was coming. Phoenix was going to remember. It would be dark. Like the estate looked right now. The windows were dark in the main house, and the little houses—their g ranny’s and the guest house—closer to the trees looked almost shy, tucked into the snow like they didn’t want to be seen.
Like we didn’t want to be seen. The staff had come in and set up the guest house for us. The last time I’d been here I had stayed in their granny’s house. But now no one wanted to go inside of it. Her death was too close right now. Like setting foot in her place would overwhelm us with it. We’d eaten dinner and climbed into bed quietly, hardly saying anything after wearrived. With the guys still asleep, I had crept outside to watch the sunrise over this scene. I couldn’t sleep. Everything was just… too much.
Inside, there’d be silence. No slamming doors or music bouncing from the kitchen where the chefs were working. The fridge was stocked, but we were left to cook it, which was fine by me. Still, it was strange to be here in all of this nothingness. Just the echo of empty rooms and the trace of summer still clinging to the curtains like memory even though it was months ago. I hadn’t spent much time here, having been thrown out before summer had really gotten started. But, I’d thought of it like that. The Hamptons. This place. Their granny had hated it here. Still, she’d come every summer to be with her family. The guys were okay with not doing that anymore. I might be too.
This place was terrible in its beauty.
I stood at the bottom of the porch, unsure if I wanted to step inside or stay here a moment longer—this quiet, frozen version of the house that only existed in the off-season. It was beautiful, in a lonely sort of way.
Julian came through the door, staring at me for a long second. “If you’re going to go walking in the snow, you need to at least wear a coat and a hat. Some better shoes.”
I did have clothes. I hadn’t packed myself, but someone had. My bag lay unopened on the living room floor, surrounded by the others. Inside, it smelled like the fireplace. Someone had lit a fire.
“Which one of you knew how to light a fire?”
I stepped toward Julian’s open arms and let his warmth fill my body. He was right, of course. But I wasn’t feeling like being smart about the weather. “I just wanted to see it. For a moment. In stillness. Or something.”
He pressed our foreheads together. “You couldn’t sleep because I was snoring, right?”
“Not that. I don’t even hear the two of you snoring anymore. It just sounds like home to me.”
He rocked me with his laugh. “Love you. And to answer your question, apparently Phoenix knows how to make a fire. He doesn’t remember how he learned, but he knows how to do it.”
“Yeah, I’m slightly concerned that there are going to be a lot of things in my life like this. Like I know something but how I know is a bit of a blur.”
Julian let go of me, and I hugged Phoenix. “Well, that has to be weird. But I am really glad you made this fire.”
“Me too.” He nodded. “It’s going to start to snow again, so I’m going to wait to go on my let’s-find-where-they-held-me quest until tomorrow when I think the weather report is better.”
That sounded like a plan. I didn’t see Jeremy or Barrett. Maybe they were both still sleeping. “What got you two up?”
“Cold where you were supposed to be.” Julian sat down on the couch; he patted the spot next to him, and I sat on it. They had been who I had been cuddling with the night before. “I’m sorry. I just… needed to see this place in the winter.”
Phoenix threw himself down next to me. “That’s okay. You aren’t trapped in bed because we happen to be asleep. Although, wait, what am I talking about? I completely want you trapped in bed.”
