“Like you tell me all the time,” Milly pointed out. “Out of sight, out of mind.”
David nodded, took the photo, and opened his dresser drawer. He set it face down inside, beneath a stack of t-shirts where he wouldn’t see it every day.
“There,” he said, closing the drawer. “Now let’s go eat. I’m starving.”
They walked into the dining room together. Dan was already setting the table, plates, and bowls arranged with military precision. Chaos wandered after him, shadowing his every step, sniffing the air as the mouthwatering aroma of stew filled it.
The three of them sat down to eat, passing the stew and bread around, falling into the comfortable rhythm they’d developed over a long friendship.
David watched his two friends as they ate. Dan reached over to refill Milly’s water glass without being asked. Milly stole a piece of bread from Dan’s plate with a grin. The way they moved around each other like they’d been doing it forever.
His heart lurched as an image of Eve drifted into his mind.
He shook it off.
Yes, he wanted what they had, he realized. Wanted it with a fierceness that surprised him.
Only, he had some baggage he needed to sort out first.
David set his fork down, the stew suddenly heavy in his stomach. Across the table, Dan and Milly were arguing good-naturedly about whether the garlic bread needed more butter, the kind of comfortable bickering that only came from years of knowing someone completely.
Chaos settled at David’s feet with a contented sigh, the dog’s warmth against his leg grounding.
This was his life now. Quiet. Controlled. Safe. A place where he had been slowly sorting out his life.
But the feel of Eve’s hand in his, the way her eyes had met his with surprise and something else he hadn’t dared name, the sound of Lila’s laughter as she’d talked about cryptography with the same passion his daughter once had...
It had cracked something open inside him that he’d worked very hard to seal shut.
“You okay?” Dan asked, his voice cutting through David’s thoughts.
David looked up to find both of them watching him with the kind of careful attention that came from people who understood what it meant to carry ghosts.
“Yeah,” David said, picking his fork back up. “Just tired.”
Milly’s eyes narrowed knowingly, but she didn’t say anything.
David took another bite of stew and let the conversation flow around him. But in his mind, he was already thinking about Anastasia Island. About the job Dan had mentioned. About the Christmas Inn.
About whether running into Eve Reynolds again would be the worst idea he’d ever had, or the best chance he’d had in twenty-eight years to remember what it felt like to be alive.
6
MIA
The spa tub should have been perfect. Jets pulsing against sore muscles, steam rising in soft clouds, the scent of lavender from the bath salts Julie had left on the counter. Mia sank deeper into the water and closed her eyes, willing her body to relax.
It didn’t work.
The child’s face surfaced in her mind, unbidden and relentless. Ten years old. Dark curls matted with blood. Her mother’s plea to save her little girl echoed in Mia’s head.
Mia’s eyes snapped open.
She sat up, water sloshing over the edge of the tub, her heart pounding against her ribs.
This was ridiculous. She’d come here to escape this. To breathe. To find some semblance of peace.
She climbed out of the tub and grabbed a towel, drying off with quick, efficient movements. The mirror showed her reflection, pale and drawn, shadows under her eyes that makeup couldn’t hide anymore.
