Rowan laughs, the sound warming something inside me. “Trust me, you look perfect.”
I roll my eyes to hide how his compliment affects me. “Save it for the real cameras, Hollywood.”
Sal appears with a large cheese pizza and two sodas. “On the house!”
“Thanks, Sal,” we say together, then look at each other and laugh.
After we’ve finished eating, we resume our walk. After a few minutes, Rowan murmurs, “Don’t look now, but I think we’re being followed.”
“Fuck off. You’re kidding, right?”
“Nope.” Leaning in close to my ear, he grabs my hand and whispers, “There’s a guy with a camera about twenty feet back. Been following us ever since we left Sal’s.”
“Are you kidding me?” My heart kicks into high gear. This was the last thing I expected to happen. Being followed is a lot different than having them taking pictures from across the street.
“Come on. Let’s pick up the pace,” he orders, squeezing my hand tighter as he gently urges me forward.
As we quicken our steps, heading toward the park that borders the edge of town, the footsteps behind us pick up, too.
“Rowan! Rowan Cole!” a man’s voice calls out. “Can we get a statement about you and your childhood sweetheart?”
“Shit.” Rowan’s grip on my hand tightens even further.
Suddenly, there’s not just one voice but the sound of multiple voices and footsteps slapping against the pavement behind us.
“Lizzy! How long have you two been back together?”
“Rowan! Is she the reason you came back to Lakeside?”
My blood runs cold. They know my name. These strangers know who I am.
“Run,” Rowan growls, tugging my hand.
Without hesitation, I bolt alongside him, our fingers interlocked as we sprint across the park toward the tree line that leads into the woods.
My heart pounds in my chest, adrenaline coursing through my veins as the voices behind us grow more insistent. “Did you see how many?”
“Three. I think.”
“You think!?”
“Well,” he pants. “Kinda hard to count when I’m trying to run and watch where the hell I’m going, Sunshine.”
“Good point. This way,” I wheeze, tugging him toward a narrow trail I know well. It’s the same path Logan, Rowan and I used to take as kids when we’d sneak out to mess around in the woods, playing hide and seek.
The flash of cameras illuminates the darkening woods behind us as we plunge deeper into the trees. Branches whip at my face, and I stumble over an exposed root, but Rowan’s firm grip keeps me upright.
“Jesus. Do they ever give up?” I gasp, ducking under a low-hanging branch.
“Not usually,” he replies, voice tight. “Sorry about this. I didn’t think they’d follow us in here.”
We emerge into a small clearing where a dilapidated shed—remnants of an old groundskeeper’s station from decades ago—sits all alone. I haven’t been here in years, but the structure is still standing, albeit barely.
“In here,” I hiss, pulling him toward the weathered door.
The hinges creak ominously as I yank it open, and we tumble inside. Rowan quickly shuts the door behind us, plunging us into near darkness.
Moonlight filters through tiny cracks in the wooden slats, casting eerie patterns across the dusty floor and a lone wooden table shoved into a corner up against the far wall.
