“What are you doing?” She whipped her head around.
“Look…I’m sorry.” I shifted in my seat. “I shouldn’t have hidden everything from you, and you have every right to be mad. But?—”
“But what?” she cut me off. “And then you dropped the bombshell that the spirits led you to the bridge like it was nothing.” Her voice broke. “Do you have any idea how terrifying that is? I’m so scared I’m going to lose you to the spirits too.”
“Is that what you think happened to mom?” I’d never asked her that before.
She toyed with the loose strands of her hair, refusing to look up. We sat in silence for what felt like hours but in reality, was probably only seconds. “Yes,” she said so quietly I thought I was hearing things. “What do you think?”
“I think mom loved us more than anything, and you don’t have to worry about me meeting the same fate.”
“Then why didn’t you tell me?”
“Because I was scared. I’m still fucking terrified. Everything I thought I knew, everything mom taught me about the spirits was wrong. I didn’t know what to do and tried to fix it on my own because I thought it was all my fault.”
Her eyes seemed to soften at the confession.
“I thought this was all happening because I sucked at shepherding the souls. Mom made it look so easy.”
“I’m sorry, too, that you never felt like you could talk to me about the spirits. But you felt comfortable enough to talk to Grey?”
“It felt easy, like he understood without judging me. But I screwed that all up.”
“And you’re absolutely positive that he didn’t murder Mr. Whitethorn?” She quirked a brow.
“Yes. You should have seen his face when I told him that Mr. Whitethorn had been murdered. It was pure shock and then pure rage after I accused him of doing it.”
“Okay, then after this go apologize. You’re actually pretty good at them.” She smiled, letting me know she understood, and she’d get over it. We might fight, but in the end, we were sisters and always had each other’s back.
A weight lifted off my chest after our conversation. Next, I needed to apologize to Grey.
We walked up the steps to Kenna’s front door and knocked. Emory didn’t wait before pressing the doorbell twice. We stood, waiting, but there was no answer. Kenna wasn’t here.
“Where else could she be?” Emory asked as we made our way back to the car.
“I have no idea.”
“Let’s drive around town and see if we can find her car.”
With each place we drove past without any sign of Kenna, our chances of finding her became slimmer and slimmer.
We rounded the corner, and the Dutchman came into view. I hit my brakes, sending Emory into the dashboard.
“What is it? Do you see Kenna?” Emory asked, frantically looking around.
“Just give me a minute,” I told her.
I turned into the parking lot, pulling up next to the black Camaro. I went over my apology again and again in my head as I climbed from the car, Emory following behind me.
“Can I help you?” Hayes, the bartender asked as we walked through the door. He had full lips, sharp cheekbones, and was drop-dead gorgeous.
No one sat at the bar. There actually wasn’t a single soul in the place. Were they even open? It was still pretty early in the morning.
“Oh, umm, I was seeing if someone was here. His car’s parked out front.” I looked around for Grey’s tall frame. Not that it would be hard to find him in this completely empty bar.
“Are you looking for someone in particular? Maybe I can help,” he offered. “Is he about this tall?” He held out a hand, indicating a little taller than himself. “Dark hair, amber eyes, and wears a perpetual scowl?”
“Wow, that was spot-on.” I looked behind me, expecting to see Grey standing there.
