“What about a movie and colouring?” he negotiates.
“As long as you sit at the desk and keep your markers on the paper.”
“Can I have a snack?”
Claire looks to me for the answer. Oh, my house, my rules. I like it.
“What kind of snacks did you bring? Is there anything good in that bag?”
Taking the backpack from his mom’s hands, he drops it on the floor, unzips the front pocket, and peeks inside. “Goldfishy crackers, apple slices, and string cheese.” He looks up at me.
“That sounds yummy. Yes, go ahead. You can eat a snack in there.”
“I promise I won’t make a mess,” he says seriously.
“And if you do, we can clean it up together. Deal.”
“Come on,” Hannah says. “I’ll get you set up. Do you know what movie you want to watch?”
Ben takes her by the hand, explaining to her why Spider-Man is the best Marvel superhero, as they leave the room.
Over her shoulder she calls, “Don’t start talking about the R-rated stuff until I come back.”
“Okay. Please tell us all the R-rated stuff while my son is occupied in the other room.” Claire rubs her hands together and waggles her eyebrows.
Rolling my eyes, I walk to the stove and turn on the burner to boil water. “Be patient. I’m going to make hot chocolate. Are you okay with that, or do you want something else?”
“That sounds good,” Meg says as Claire nods her head in agreement.
Drinks in hand, Meg and I make our way to the living room. Claire comes behind, balancing a bakery box of donuts and the fruit tray Hannah insisted on bringing. We set everything out on the coffee table, then pick our spots to sit.
“Did you know that according to Ben,Spider-Man 2is the very best Spider-Man movie ever?” Hannah says, plopping down in a chair.
Claire chuckles. “Don’t let Riot hear you say that. They have been arguing about it all week. Riot says it’sThe Amazing Spider-Man.”
“The house looks amazing, Beck.” Hannah checks out all the changes I have made since the last time she was here. “Between all the small upgrades Logan made when he first bought it and everything you have done to decorate it, the house has had a real glow-up.”
“Thank you. No more ’90s décor for the yellow house. It has officially been yanked into this century.”
“Before I forget.” Meg leans forward, making sure she has our full attention. “Do you remember I told you that there was a rumour going around? That there’s an author living in Emerley? Last week, we received a delivery of books, and one caught my attention.” Reaching into her bag, she pulls out a paperback and hands it to Claire. “Pass it around and tell me what you see.”
Claire turns the book over in her hands, brow furrowing as she studies the cover before passing it to me. A dark lake fills most of the image. The water is nearly black in the fading light, deep blue and muted grey blending along the tree line. I run my thumb over the matte cover and read aloud, “Buried Secretsby Marla Brinshal. Never heard of her.” Shaking my head, I pass it to Hannah.
Her expression changes instantly. “That’s Crystal Lake. That’s my lake,” she says, tapping the corner of the image.
“How can you tell?” Claire asks. “It could be any lake.”
“Trust me, I recognize the lake I grew up on,” she says, flipping it over. “What’s it about?”
“That’s the strange thing,” Meg says. “The blurb is vague, but it’s about a woman who comes home to care for her aging mother after her father dies in a tragic accident. She doesn’t think it’s an accident and investigates. Is it me, or does it seem like the author is gathering inspiration from town gossip and then giving it a dark twist?”
“I don’t know,” Claire says. “That seems like a bit of a stretch.”
“That’s…really weird.” Hannah flips the book over in her hands and frowns. “I wonder what else the author has written.”
Meg leans back and shrugs. “Maybe it’s just a coincidence, but I think I’m going to investigate this author later. I have time.” She takes the novel back and shoves it into her bag.
“So, Logan went to see Jackson? What made him change his mind?” I ask Hannah.
