“They’re going to kill each other,” Cass whispered.
“They might. I don’t see how they both survive this.”
“Should we step in?” Cass asked.
“We’ve tried. It only delays the inevitable. The only thing that will stop them is never seeing each other again—and we both know that’s never going to happen,” Harmony said.
“You’re right. It never does any good talking to either of them,” Cass said with a sigh.
“I love that you care so much, Cass.”
“I love people. I hate drama. You love people, too. But, you absolutelyrelishdrama.”
Harmony laughed. “As long as I’m not in the center of it. Drama eventually forces balance. It’s when we never let the pressure out that things explode.”
Tosh spun away, jaw clenched, storm boiling in every step. Torie chased after, her words snapping like lit matches. She was playing with fire—and it was only a matter of which one burned first.
***
Late that night, Zach and Mary stood outside Harmony’s cottage, the fog thick as smoke, helping to hide them. Zach looked deeply uncomfortable. Mary was practically giddy as they continued their mission.
“Do you really think we should be doing this?” he asked for what felt like the hundredth time.
Mary nodded. “I know she’s hiding something. I want to see what it is.”
“We’re all hiding something,” he muttered. “The question is who breaks first.”
They slipped through the side gate, moving like ghosts across the narrow yard. Through the window, Harmony sat in an oversized armchair, a mug of tea beside her, a blanket over her lap, computer balanced on her thighs. She was typing furiously, eyes locked on the screen.
It was as if someone were whispering in her ear, and she was racing to catch every word before it dissolved.
“What’s she typing?” Zach whispered.
Mary shifted angles, trying to see. No luck. Harmony had chosen the room well—no reflective glass behind her, no convenient mirror.
“I can’t see,” Mary muttered in frustration.
They continued to watch. Mary hoped Harmony might get restless and leave the room,leavethe computer. She didn’t. She kept typing, pausing only to sip her tea, to stare at the screen, to smile once—just barely.
Mid-sentence, she stopped typing and looked up.
Mary and Zach froze.
For a suspended moment, it felt like Harmony was staring directly into Mary’s eyes. Then she glanced past the window, expression unreadable, and then looked back down at her laptop.
“Do you think she saw us?” Zach asked.
He was even more uncomfortable now.
“I don’t know. I don’t think so,” Mary said. “We need to go. This is getting us nowhere.”
“I’m more than ready to leave,” Zach said, his voice filled with relief.
He was starting to turn when Mary grabbed his arm.
“Wait!” she whispered harshly.
Zach froze as he squinted into the dim room. A board hung there—white, crowded with ink.
