Mason
I wake up in the morning, weirdly cold. Birds singing, ceiling fan looping, seashooshing.
Heart pounding.
I reach for her, but somehow, I already know it, again—Sierra’s gone.
Her clothes are no longer on my floor.
I pull on some sweats and a T-shirt, race downstairs, don’t even put on shoes. I run out the back door, down the grass, through the orchard. Don’t stop running, all the way along the path to the gate, under the plum tree, and up to her cottage.
I knock on the back door, tap on a window, but by the time I get around to the front of the cottage, it’s clear.
She’sgone.
I can see the driveway that curves around the side of June’s house, and Sierra’s van is not there. I head over there anyway, frantic.
June is on her knees in her garden, and when she sees me, she frowns deeply. “Mason ...”
“Don’t worry, I’m leaving.” I don’t think she’s ever actually seen me on her property before. I haven’t been many times. “Have you seen Sierra?”
“Not today. She left already.”
“When?”
“I don’t know. Early this morning ...”
I’m already disappearing around the house. I follow the driveway around to the front, then all the way out to the road, just in case. But Sierra’s van is nowhere to be seen.
How long ago did she leave?
It doesn’t matter.
She made her choice.
I walk all the way back up Honeymoon Lane to my driveway, swearing to myself. Telling myself that this is how it has to be. That I knew this was coming. All that shit.
It doesn’t help.
I take the fork in the driveway where it splits, the private driveway that leads up to my house. The front door is locked, and I didn’t even bring keys.
I’m a fucking disaster.
I think I cut my foot.
I go around to the back, limping a bit, and find Layne in my kitchen. Coffee brewing, making breakfast.
“Where’s Kaylie?” I ask him. “And Grandpa?”
“Good morning to you, too. They’re outside somewhere, with Scar.” He gives me a curious look. “Out for a jog? With no shoes?”
I’m breathing heavily and prop myself up against the island. “Fuck” is all I manage to say.
“You want eggs?” he asks, cracking some into a pan on the stove. “And maybe some coffee? Your shirt is inside out.”
The idea of eating right now just hurts my stomach. “Shit.I fucked up, Layne.”
My brother takes a long look at me, and says, “Sierra?”
