He stopped at the next photo. A young woman with ash blond hair, the sun glittering off it enough he could call it silvery, was posing with a kea on her shoulder, the parrot nibbling at her hair. She was smiling at the camera, and with those tousled hair and sparkling eyes, she looked like a magical forest princess. As if her eyes could pierce into his soul, Simon’s spirits lifted, even as he stared at the photo in confusion.
He scrolled through more pictures. She was everywhere. Laughing over a lunch table while waving a sweet potato fry on her fork. Posing with him and Chris, high above a bright blue lake and mountains in the distance, the wind ruffling her long hair. Leaning over to him behind the wheel, in a picture that must have been taken from the back seat of the car. Then thetwo of them again, this time holding to the railing of the boat, she lifting her face into the sun, her eyelashes fanning her wind-blushed cheeks. And her amidst a rose garden, leaning down to smell to blooms, her floral-patterned jacket nearly melding with the flowers.
Shanna.The name came to his mind as if it was obvious, but something was wrong. He returned from New Zealand barely a few days ago. How could he have forgotten so quickly?
“Leona, call Shanna,” he ordered his digital assistant.
“There are no contacts under that name.”
Maybe the program was still loading from the phone’s reset. Simon navigated to the contact menu himself. There was Chris, a couple of numbers for services in New Zealand …
But no one called Shanna.
Was he going insane?
He repeated the name under his breath a few times, but nothing clarified. When he reached the car where Stan and Chris were waiting, Chris leaned impatiently on the driver’s seat, urging him on with a slight roll of her eyes. “Do you have it? Good. Let’s get this done.”
Stan gave him the password he got from Everett’s computer, and in a few moments, as Simon focused on the more important task at hand—getting to the bottom of Everett’s scheme—the name of that beautiful forest princess slipped back into the far corners of his mind.
“Got it,” he said. “This is the office. Inputting the address.” He placed the phone in the holder attached to the windshield and started the car. “Let’s go see who pronounced me dead.”
***
Shanna sat on the bench at the back of the small garden of her mom’s house, overlooking the town. The house was a simple one—a single bedroom and a joined kitchen and living room, much like Shanna’s rented house in Montana—but for what it lacked in luxury, it made up in view. Queenstown spread beneath her, the little white houses hugging the shore and the peninsulas, as if trying to seek shelter from the majestic mountains rising behind them.
She drew her legs up to her knees. There was a chill in the air today; a harbinger of winter.
“Coffee with milk and sugar for you.” Mom came from the house, holding two cups, and sat beside her.
Shanna took the cup, smiling at the swirl of cream on top. “I didn’t tell you how I drink it.”
“I can sense it. And you’re definitely a milk-and-sugar type.” She took a sip of her coffee, taking in the view. “I’d say I’d never get tired of it. But here I am, thirsting for more adventure.”
“Do you know where you’ll go next?”
“North, along the mountains, I think. You know there’s a famous tree in Wanaka? Grows out of the water. Just a few hours away. And I’ve never been. I have to go and take a picture with it.”
She sounded cheerful, excited, while anxiety gripped Shanna’s stomach. “You’ve made friends in the years spent here, haven’t you? Surely there are a few you maintain enough contact with for them to remember you. But once you leave, they’ll all forget.”
Mom nodded. “They will. But such is my life path.”
Maybe it was hers then, too. “Let me come with you,” she blurted out.
Mom looked at her from the side, a bit of pity woven into her smile. “You don’t have anyone to leave behind?”
“I have Gran. But I call her every day on the phone, so we don’t forget each other. And there’s Jinx, my dog, but that’s not a problem.”
“Because animals don’t forget us.” Mom swirled her coffee. “What about the person I mentioned in the letter? The other half of your soul?”
Shanna’s stomach squeezed harder. “Simon. But he …” She blew out air, watching the foam in her cup swirl from her breath. He promised he’d come back, but it’s been days without even hearing from him. She’d tried calling at first, but his number wasn’t accessible. She’d tried Chris, too, only to have her call canceled and not returned.
They had to be busy. Too busy to think of her—or the curse was too strong to give them a chance. In the deep recesses of her heart, she’d always known it. No matter what he promised, no matter the happiness she’d felt in his company, and the ecstasy in his touch, no force of nature could conquer the curse.
So after a few days, she’d given up. She was tired of being clingy. Of being delusional.
“Maybe I want to be like you,” she said. “You can leave everything behind and not regret it. And I—well, I already followed in your footsteps. I went where you went. I had a grand adventure and a wonderful romance, and now I’m here.”
“But why are you still here? You found the bracelet I left you. You resolved your problem.”
