Standing on the other side of the blaze, Dane rubbed the back of his neck. Nothing had gone to plan tonight. Initially, he’d wanted to approach Wren after the performance, when she was done celebrating with the kids and being congratulated by their parents. But when he’d caught up with her in the food-and-drink section of the meadow, his approach had been foiled, this time by an older man who looked familiar. Moving so that he could hear their conversation, he quickly realized she was talking to her dad and that his presence at the festival had rocked Wren.
Had Poppy not taken Wren’s hand, he would’ve. He wanted to run to her, to scoop her up and promise to protect her, but quickly realized he needed a minute to process what he had heard.
Someone touched his arm. He turned, scowling. Hadley flinched, cheeks flushing. He forced a smile. “Hadley, hey. What’s up?”
He expected a message from Hayes—an invite for a beer, dinner maybe—but she handed him a pre-printed pad and a pen. He frowned at it. “What’s this?”
Hadley looked at him with Hayes’s unfathomable dark eyes. “One side is for a regret, the other for a wish. When Luna gives the signal, you toss it into the bonfire and ask the ghosts to make it come true.”
“I don’t?—”
Hadley glared. “I don’t want to hear any nonsense about how ghosts don’t exist. Wren gives me enough of that. Just write the thing.”
The teenager had teeth. Not wanting to waste time—he had a situation to fix—he wrote his regret in his unreadable scrawl.Not putting Wren first.
Hadley told him to tear it off, flip it over, and write his wish. He didn’t need to think. One word, underlined three times.Wren.
She was all he wanted. Waking up beside her, kissing her goodnight, falling asleep with her in his arms. Her toothbrush next to his. Shared laundry. A life built out of small moments and big ones, together. If they could just find their way forward. They were smart. They could figure it out—if she wanted to. But after her father’s reappearance, she’d been reminded all over again that love came with risk, disappointment, and walking away.
“That’ll be ten dollars.”
He blinked. “Sorry?”
“Five for a wish, five for a regret.”
Holy hell, they were monetizing spiritual angst. “You’re scamming me, right?” he asked, pulling out his wallet.
Hadley grinned. “Wishes granted are worth the money. And letting go of regrets for five dollars is a bargain.”
Hadley pocketed his ten and skipped off. He shook his head. Somehow, he’d come to love this town—maybe because it had grown on him, maybe because Wren loved it. Maybe because it held the only good memory of his dad. It wasn’t home—though he wasn’t sure where that was—but he could see himself coming back here. Maybe buying, or building, a cottage on the lake.
But first things first. He needed to talk to Wren.
ChapterSeventeen
The ghosts stood in a row not far from Wren, their eyes flicking between her on one side of the bonfire and Dane on the other.
“It’s like watching a rally between Martina Navratilova and Chris Evert-Lloyd,” Ruby wailed.
“Who?” Lila asked.
They all looked at her, equally confused. Ruby huffed and rolled her eyes. “The Rev, the Captain, and you are too old, Lila, and Naomi is too young. Tennis, two great players, known for taking ages to score a point off each other.”
“Still in the dark,” Lila retorted.
Silas had graver matters on his mind. He looked at the paper clutched in Wren’s hand—earlier, they’d witnessed her penning her wish, her fingers trembling. She’d spoken under her breath, calling wishes foolish things, unlikely to be granted, yet still she hoped.
Hope was such a powerful thing.
And perhaps—just perhaps—he might see that hope answered. Perhaps, in this final hour of his watch, he might perform one worthy deed.
Everything had changed since last night when he’d accompanied the doctor to Boston. It had been his first venture beyond Solstice Springs—and his last anywhere—and the blaze of lights and the towering buildings unnerved him. The city throbbed with restless energy, and he longed for the quiet of Solstice Springs.
He’d stayed close to Dr. Trafford. And when they reached the banks of the Charles River, Silas withdrew into the shadows behind him, standing guard while he fought his private battle, silent and, to his way of thinking, alone. But Silas heard it all.
“I’m not the only one who can make a difference. I am allowed to step back, not forever, but for now. I am allowed to put myself, and my happiness, first.”
Dr. Trafford’s words hit him like a barrage of bullets to his chest.
