“Maybe Maddison’s an old flame. Or maybe the keys go to some secret safety deposit box. The investigator could be?—”
“Ashton, enough.” The sharpness in my voice surprises even me. I let out an exhale, softening but staying firm. “It’s not my place to be digging through his personal business. When Nathan’s ready to tell me, he will… if we even make it that far. Enough about me. What about you? Are you ever going to pull the trigger on Bishop?”
A smirk tugs at her lips. “We’ll see. Until I graduate, I don’t think I have time for someone.”
I give her a look, half stern, half amused. “You always have time for someone. You just have to start letting more people in than just me.”
She turns, eyes catching mine for a beat before darting back to the road, a small smile spreading across her face.
“Do I, though?” she teases, as if the question didn’t require an answer.
She glances back at me.
“I never say this stuff out loud, but…” She sighs. “Thank you.”
I blink. “For what?”
“For everything,” she says, shrugging. “For giving me the job when I was drowning in student loans. For being the one person who didn’t make me feel like a screwup when I changed my major three times before finally landing on law.”
Her voice softens in a way I don’t hear often. “You’re my best friend, Ella. And even if you’re currently sleeping with a human cryptic crossword puzzle, I’m thankful for you.”
I smile, warmth blooming in my chest. “You’re welcome. Even for the unsolicited Nathan shade.”
“Oh, that was absolutely solicited.”
We laugh the rest of the way there.
My mom’s house looks like a Pinterest board came to life. String lights already hang across the backyard. Mason jars with wildflowers. A chalkboard sign on the porch that says “Welcome, Fam Jam 2026” in swoopy cursive Iknowshe practiced.
As soon as we pull up, the front door bursts open.
“GIRLS!” my mom squeals, arms wide as she propels herself onto the porch. “You brought cupcakes!”
“I also brought myself,” I say, getting hugged within an inch of my life.
“You brought the mystery man, too?”
I pause. “He’s… on his way.”
Technically not a lie. Not yet.
We unload the car—baked goods galore—cupcakes, cookies, mini pies. Ashton already has one in her mouth before we’ve even reached the back yard.
About ten people are mingling, cousins, uncles, random plus-ones. The smell of barbecue is in the air. It’s all perfect except for the anxious buzzing in my chest that won’t go away.
At exactly 4:59 PM, my phone buzzes.
Nathan:I can’t make it today. I’m sorry, Ella.
I stare at the screen.
Of course, my first instinct is disappointment. I’d been looking forward to tonight more than I realized.
But the words don’t feel careless. They don’t feel dismissive.
They feel… heavy.
Something tight settles in my chest, not because I think he’s blowing me off—but because I get the sense that whatever pulled him away is bigger than this.
