He threw his head back in appreciation and then made his way through the crowd to the burly fellow. The tattooed guy’s dour mood had faded. He said something, and Phoenix’s glance alighted on her.
“I need to skedaddle,” said Mandy. But before we go, do you have something you want to tell me?”
“Not a thing. I ended up in the wrong bathroom.”
“That’s an interesting approach. I thought the tattooed one was more your type.”
“I have no type, because I’m staying single.”
Orchid refocused on her goal. Tomorrow, she’d meet with her boss.Goodbye, New York.
CHAPTER2
DREAMS OF THE LONELY
Orchid
FIFTEEN YEARS EARLIER
Orchid was twelve. At her insistence, she was home without a babysitter. The early evening hours alone were fine, filled with verboten snacks and colored pencil drawings she’d made for her parents. Then, the last wisps of dusk fell behind the thick woods that towered over their house. The sky was dotted with thick snowflakes. As temperatures plunged, the snow twisted into glistening streaks of ice.
She turned on the television. “A sudden squall. Stay off the roads,” the TV newscaster warned. This filled her with trepidation.
After midnight, she turned on the hall lights and crept up to her bedroom, where she huddled in a ball beneath frigid sheets. She pulled the comforter over her ears, over her pigtails, warming the stale air in her little curled space. Her mom had plaited her hair into two neat braids before leaving.
Walls creaked. The hot water heater pipes moaned. Ice drummed against the roof. The house’s hollow stillness confirmed the absence of other living creatures. She had never felt so alone… or afraid.
She must’ve dozed. The shrill phone woke her. Her room was so dark that she was reminded of the time a squirrel had chewed through some wires and they lost all electricity.
Her sleep-thick legs stumbled down the hall to her parents’ bedroom and she picked up the receiver. “Hello?” she said. Her throat felt froggy. Outside, there was no light coming from their porch lantern, and the halogen light above the driveway was lost in the foggy night. Clouds misted over the moon, casting a ghostly glow across the sky. The wind shrieked.
"Orchid, it’s Mom.”
Relief washed over her. “Are you coming home?” She fumbled for the clock on the nightstand. Its blank screen stared back, lifeless. They’d lost power.
“Soon,” her mom said.
Orchid heard ice drumming on the slate roof. It made her think of demons trying to hack their way in, one shingle at a time.
“We’re almost there, honey. The roads are worse than we thought.”
“I’ll put salt out,” said Orchid.
When the call ended, she headed downstairs.
In the foyer, she pulled on her puffy coat and boots, and tucked the phone into her pocket. She yanked open door and ice whipped her face. She trudged across the yard, to dig through their chaotic garage and find rock salt. A handful of minerals seemed useless against tonight’s winter storm gods.
Wild waving beams of light caught her attention. The headlights to her parents’ beater car pointed down the long steep driveway.
Suddenly, a piercing screech jolted her eardrums. It took a moment to realize that the screaming sound was coming down the winding driveway. The car’s brakes. keened and wailed. Then…an exploding crunch. Impact reverberated through the trees.
Cold fear shot through her.
She raced up the driveway, slipping on ice, into the darkness.
“I’m coming!” she screamed out.
And then she stopped running. The car was crumpled against a tree. No sounds emerged.
