“Exactly,” Izzy said. “So now I get to be annoyed at him for starting it and at myself for not stopping it.”
Caitlin studied her.
“And you’re sure that’s the only reason you’re annoyed?” she asked.
Izzy didn’t answer.
Caitlin watched her for another second.
Then she let it go.
“For now,” she said.
Izzy exhaled quietly, grateful.
* * *
Ahead, the trail curved, the trees thinning enough for the ridge to open up.
Caitlin shifted in the saddle, scanning the rise.
“So,” she said, lighter now, “where exactly are you taking me?”
Izzy’s mouth curved slightly.
“You’ll see.”
A few more steps up the trail?—
Then—
“There,” Izzy said, nodding ahead.
The cabin sat tucked back off the rise, half-hidden behind trees and overgrown brush.
Caitlin slowed Jasper.
“…What is that?” she asked.
Izzy pulled Ghost up beside her.
“Something I’ve been dying to show you.”
14
The Cabin — Back Ridge
The door creaked open.
Caitlin stepped in first—and stopped so abruptly Izzy nearly ran into her.
“Oh my God…”
It wasn’t quite awe. It was shock. Real, unfiltered, curator-level shock.
Caitlin moved slowly into the room, turning in a slow circle, her eyes catching on everything at once. The canvases. The sketches. The walls.
“Iz,” she said, not even looking at her now. “What in the world have you found?”
