“Hey, is everything okay?” I ask softly, even though Enid is still talking.
“What’s that?” She looks down at my notepad. I realize she sees Hunter’s name and cancer written there. I quickly cover it.
“Nothing. I was just?—”
“You were just what? Why did those look like headlines?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” I want to shoot myself. Why had I been writing random headlines on this notepad when she could see it?
I should have been more careful. “It’s nothing.”
“Huh,” she says softly. Now she’s suspicious of me. I can tell. Shit!
“I asked you a question,” I say.
“What’s your question?”
“When Shakespeare comes to you in your dreams… is it William Shakespeare, or is it someone that likes Shakespeare?” She stills suddenly, and then she blinks.
“What do you mean?” She shakes her head as if to clear her thoughts. “Shakespeare comes to me. John Steinbeck comes to me. Many literary figures come to me.” She plays nervously with her earrings. “Why? Does he come to you, too?”
“No. Shakespeare’s never come to me.” I bite down on my lower lip. I want to just ask her what I’m thinking, but I don’t.There’s a shift in the air between us. “So you must be really excited about the fact that you got this book deal.”
“It’s nice to come into money,” she says, nodding. “The advance has been great. It will really allow me to live my life. And isn’t that what life is for? Living?”
“Yeah… I suppose so.” My phone beeps.
I glance down.
I’m in the library. Where are you? Coming?
“Excuse me,” I say, standing quickly. “I will be right back.”
I don’t tell them where I’m going as I hurry out of the room.
As I pass through the door, I look back and see thatAmethyst is watching me with narrowed eyes. My heart races as I run out of the room and up the stairs toward the library. I step inside, feeling like Sherlock Holmes. Only I don’t know if I want to be right.
Hunter stands there—tall, handsome, perfect. My Hunter. The man I love. The man who has changed my life.
“Hey there, sexy,” he says, walking over and kissing me.
“Hey. I think I figured something out.” I pull away from him reluctantly.
“What?”
“I’m not going to say unless I’m right. But grab the photo albums. Let’s look at them.”
“What are we looking for?”
“Photo albums from when your grandparents were younger. At parties.”
We grab the albums and start flipping through them quickly. I know what I’m looking for. I just don’t know if I will find it.
“Are you going to tell me what this is about?” he asks, looking baffled and confused.
“Not yet. I might be completely wrong. Oh, shit.” I stare at the weathered yellow page and see a photo that makes my heart stop. I’d been right. I don’t know how to feel or what to make ofit. I pull the photo out of the album and hold it close to my face so I can scan it carefully. I feel like I’m going to faint as I hand Hunter the photo. He stares at it, expression blank.
“What am I looking at?”
