“Which is?”
“That I’m terrified. That I don’t know how to believe someone would choose me. But that I want to try.” She folded the letter carefully, pressed it against her heart. “Elspeth was brave enough to leave me this. The least I can do is be brave enough to use it.”
She walked down the hallway toward the guest room. Luna padded silently behind her.
The door was closed. No light underneath. He was probably asleep—it was past midnight, and he’d had a terrible day because of her.
She knocked anyway. Soft. Apologetic.
No answer.
“Liam?” She knocked again. “I know it’s late. I know I don’t deserve to ask you for anything. But I need to talk to you. Please.”
Nothing.
She tried the handle. The door swung open.
The room was empty.
Not empty like he was somewhere else in the house. Empty like he’dleft. The bed was made with military precision. His few belongings—the clothes he’d accumulated, the toolkit he’d assembled, the worn paperback he’d been reading—were gone.
On the pillow was a note.
Cassie—
The binding broke. I felt it snap about an hour ago. Whatever you were trying to do, it worked.
I’m staying at the motel on Route 9. I think we both need some space to figure out what’s real without magic involved.
I’m not leaving town. Notyet. But I can’t stay in your house and pretend everything is fine when you keep waiting for me to disappear.
If you want to find me, you know where I’ll be.
—Liam
Cassie read the note three times. Then she sat on his empty bed and cried some more, because apparently she had an infinite supply of tears tonight.
The binding was broken. He’d felt it snap. Which meant her spell had worked after all, despite the interruption.
And he’d left.
“He’s at the motel,” Luna said, jumping onto the bed beside her. “That’s not leaving. That’s… waiting.”
“Waiting for what?”
“For you to decide if you’re going to keep running. Or if you’re finally going to chase something instead.”
Cassie looked at the note. At the address he’d left. At the words that weren’t goodbye, just… space.
I’m not leaving town. Not yet.
He was giving her time. Giving her a choice. Doing exactly what AuntElspeth had said—staying, even when he didn’t have to. Even when she’d given him every reason to go.
The question was: what was she going to do about it?
She folded the note, put it next to the letter from her aunt, and didn’t sleep at all.
9
