“This is hers,” I say.
“Whose?”
“Ingrid’s,” I say, and I hold his gaze, a silent challenge to dispute his knowledge of her.
“Even if it is, how does it help?”
I can’t understand his hesitation, or the fear that takes him over whenever I say Ingrid’s name. Something about Ingrid scares him.
Even if cracking open this hornet’s nest brings him face-to-face with whatever freaks him out so badly, it might bring him answers about himself. Closure, maybe. Even if knowing wouldn’t bring him back to life, it would be something to cling to. It’s always been a lifeline for me. After Harper died, I looked up every statistic I could on fatal car accidents. Dove deep into what I knew about her injuries and whether she would have survived if I’d done something.
Mostly, I wanted to know if I could have saved her.
Unless Finn already has the answers and he won’t tell me.
“It’s not your job to figure it out,” he says, exasperated.
“Why are you so up in arms about me taking a walk in my own backyard?”
“Because there’s nothing to gain,” Finn says.“You think I haven’tspent the last three years doing exactly what you’re doing? Trying to find answers? There’s nothing here, Jo. Nothing.”
I take a step toward him, leaving less than a foot between us. He’s not much taller than me, but I lift my chin to look at him. “The bracelet was here.” Another half step. He sucks in a breath, gaze flitting down, then up, but I’m too irritated to focus on what that might mean.
He holds for another second before huffing and shaking his head.
“Jo?”
I leap out of my skin, whirling to find Nora stepping out of the trees, a bundle of wildflowers in one hand. For the first time since I’ve known her, she isn’t wearing lipstick.
She looks as confused to see me here as I am to see her.
“Nora?”
She frowns, looking around. “Were you talking to someone?”
At my side, Finn is frozen, like he’s seen a ghost, and another time, I might make the joke to him. I force myself to focus on Nora. It’s definitely a better sign of my sanity, anyway.
I jam the bracelet into my pocket, clearing my throat and gesturing around. “The universe.”
Relief flickers over her features and she comes to join me near the creek, giving me a knowing smile. “I’ve done my fair share of that. Shitty listener, that universe.”
I laugh. “I don’t know, I think it does okay on the listening part. It’s the response that sucks.”
She laughs, too, but it isn’t entirely a happy one. “What are you doing out here?” she asks.
Just bickering with your dead twin and exploring the scary woods.“I’m…getting some air.” I glance down at the flowers. “What about you?”
She stops, her eyes and nose growing red. “I feel closer to Finn here. This was one of our favorite spots.”
Nora gives the flowers a little shake and sits down in the grass with a sad smile. I drop down at her side.
“Today’s the anniversary of…” Nora’s face twists up and she stops, clearing her throat. She sets the flowers carefully in the grass beside her. “Three years since Finn…”
She doesn’t say the word, and I don’t make her.Diedis such a sharp word, a stinging reminder of what those four letters mean.
“I’ve always hated when they call it an anniversary,” I say, not really meaning to say it aloud.
To my surprise, Nora says, “Me too.” She shakes her head at me. “Like there’s something to celebrate.”
