“We are wise men.”
Asplashnearby drew our attention. Ozrik squinted into the distant water. His necklace caught the moonlight, drawing my eye. I couldn’t quite make out what the charm represented and was too afraid to lean closer to see it better.
“Probably a frog,” Ozrik said, referring to the sound and shifting to face me again.
I motioned to the charm. “What’s your necklace?”
He clasped it between his fingers and held it out, tucking his chin to admire it before leaning closer to show me. “Medic alert.”
“Oh. What for?”
He flipped it around, a devilish grin on his face. “Read it. I had it specially made.”
I moved closer until our heads were nearly touching. He smelled like soap, hair product, and the outdoors. I read the engraving, expecting it to say he was asthmatic, or had diabetes, or epilepsy, or was allergic to bee stings. Instead, it readI’ve probably been poisoned. Don’t believe her lies.
My eyes bugged, and Ozrik hooted with laughter at my reaction. “Fucking wild, huh? You can laugh. It’s meant to be funny. Sort of. Tongue in cheek funny.” He tucked it under his tank top. “It’s also the best warning I can offer a paramedic if I end up unconscious on a gurney. Or in the morgue, and they’re wondering how I got there.”
“I don’t understand.”
“Yes, you do, Gale. Don’t play stupid. I can’t stand when people pretend around me. Everyone in this fucked-up town knows my mother’s a nutjob. Me most of all. If you can’t joke about your misfortunes, then life’s not worth living. Please don’t start side-eyeing or pitying me like everyone else. It’s complicated. I want to believe she’s sick and can’t help herself, but it tastes too much like irony.”
“I’m sorry.” It wasn’t the right thing to say, but I was at a loss for words. I didn’t know the specifics. What I knew came from rumors, and they weren’t always reliable.
“I remember your mom.” A thoughtful expression clouded Ozrik’s eyes.
“What?” A chill raced up my spine. “You do?”
“Yes. I was little, but I remember. I didn’t make the connection until…” His words fell away, and he softly laughed, staring at the night sky and stars. “I googled you. I wasn’t being creepy, but I wanted to find that magazine article with your photography.”
“Oh.”
“Your mom was a nurse at the hospital when I was a kid. She snuck me Lifesavers and made sure I always got the orange-flavored electrolyte popsicles because they were my favorite.”
My heart clenched, and profound jealousy hit me out of nowhere. Not because my mother shared candy with a sick boy under her care, but because Ozrik remembered something about her when so many of my memories were gone.
His gaze turned sympathetic. “I didn’t know she passed away.”
“I was ten. Cancer.”
“I saw that. For what it’s worth, I’m sorry for your loss. She was one of the good ones.”
I couldn’t say anything for the lump in my throat. She was a good one. The best. My father was the most amazing man on the planet, but sometimes a confused boy needed the comfort of his mother, no matter that he was twenty-six.
“I didn’t find the article, by the way.”
“It’s not under my name. Or rather, it’s under a pseudonym. Windy Row. A play on my last name.”
Ozrik smirked. “That’s cute. Why a pseudonym?”
I shrugged. “I like my privacy.”
“Fair enough.”
For a long time, neither of us spoke. The moon continued its journey across the sky, the stars multiplied, and my discomfort waned a fraction. I didn’t know what to say to fill the gap. We were so different. As I racked my brain, following the reflective play of light on the water’s surface, a blinding flash made me startle and raise a hand as though to ward off an enemy.
I darted my attention to Ozrik, who had his phone angled in my direction—the source of the assault. He laughed. “Oh God. I didn’t mean to scare you.”
“What are you doing?”
