“Annie,” I cut her off, watching as her eyes grow twice their size. “I know the only thing that matters.”
She swallows again. Holds her breath and waits.
I hold up the notebook. The evidence. The undeniable truth. “I know what moves you.”
The air shifts between us, thickening in my lungs. In my mind, those words didn’t sound so heavy. But they poured out like a storm. Black rain and broken thunder.
There’s lightning in my veins and dew drops in her eyes.
A tear slips down her cheek. She swipes at it, frantically, wanting to erase whatever cracked open inside her.
I reach for my beer. But the moment I move to take a sip, my dog barrels toward me and leaps into my lap.
“Shit—” The beer jostles, tips, spilling nearly a full can of liquid wheat down the front of my T-shirt. Some of it lands on Toaster, and he shakes his fur, spraying the rest of it all over me.
Awesome.
I’m drenched in Blue Moon and regret.
Annie hops off the chair, still wiping at her face. “Oh, jeez. You’re soaked.”
“I’m fine.” Toaster plants himself on my thighs, tail wagging with delight. Ipull the wet fabric off my chest, but it bounces back with a squelch. “I should head out anyway.”
“I’ll grab you a clean T-shirt. Tag has plenty.”
“No, it’s—”
But she’s already dashing away.
With a sigh, I flop back against the chair, running my hand through Toaster’s long, damp mane. He releases a contented sigh, pressing his chin to my knee.
If I fall, will you still catch me?
If I run, will you let go?
Annie escapes into the house.
And as I watch her retreat, I finish the chorus in my mind.
I’ve been lost inside this winter
Tracing footsteps in the snow
Chapter 16Annalise
I scour the upstairs laundry room, searching for a clean T-shirt. They’re all too small. Chase is broader, more muscular, while my brother is slim and lean.
An array of colorful fabrics are scattered around. Blues, greens, rusts, burgundies. Bath towels, boxers, dresses, and bras.
My mind races. My eyes burn.
The last forty-eight hours come to a churning boil in the hub of my chest, a dammed river. I am bound to break. Splinters and flood.
But I keep sifting through the laundry basket until my fingers curl around a cream-colored band shirt featuring Young the Giant.
Mind over matter, it reads.
Good enough.
