Page 111 of The Song We Lost

Alive.

She is still alive. Still here.

I take her in replaying everything that she's said since I've come home, knowing that Cole is right. We have to do this her way even if it breaks me.

The family is moving around the tables setting dishes down when the chatter suddenly stops.

Like someone cut the sound.

“What?” I ask automatically.

No one answers, everyone is staring behind me. So I turn around, and my brain short-circuits.

Jackson Reed is standing at the edge of the barn. Guitar case in one hand, and a massive military-style pack slung over one shoulder.

He looks nothing like the polished man the world knows and loves. Just worn jeans, boots dusted with travel, a flannel shirt rolled at the sleeves and a baseball cap pulled low over dark hair. Completely normal. Except he’s Jackson Reed.

He could never blend in.

I blink.

“You…” My brain struggles to catch up with my eyes. “You are here.”

Behind me Sadie makes a strangled noise. “Oh my God.”

I glance over my shoulder just in time to see her clutch Cole’s arm.

“That’s Jackson Reed.”

Jackson lifts a hand awkwardly. “Hi.”

I stare at him.

“How… how did you even know where here was?”

Noah steps forward, grinning slightly. “I told him.”

Sadie looks at him sharply. “You what?”

Noah shrugs, saying, “Jackson called me.”

Jackson shifts his weight slightly, glancing around the barn and tables.

“Shit,” he says sheepishly. “Am I interrupting something?”

Rose steps forward before anyone else can answer.

“Not at all,” she says warmly. “Thanksgiving is for family and friends.”

Jackson nods politely as Noah grabs the guitar case from his hand.

“Come on,” he says. “I’ll stash your stuff until I can get you settled in.”

They disappear into the barn for a moment and I’m still standing exactly where I was. Trying to process the fact that Jackson Reed just showed up at our family Thanksgiving.

He comes back a minute later and walks straight toward me.

“You are here,” I repeat, like the sentence still doesn’t make sense.