Page 13

Ellery

Marthe leads me through the cafe’s kitchen and storeroom, and outside into an alley that runs the length of the block. The shops along the main street are sandwiched together, each with a second story above. Nobody’s out here. Crates stacked high by the back door next to a dumpster. A set of narrow stairs clings to the side of the timber-clad building, leading up to a landing the size of a doormat.

“My boy Nick runs tours to see the aurora. You’ll be helping customers, serving snacks, that kind of thing, while he drives around chasing a good view of the lights.”

“Sounds like fun.” I puff as I heave my broken suitcase up one step at a time.

Marthe unlocks the holly-red front door. “He can be a little…prickly…just be patient with him. He’s worth it.”

I nod, a hand on the wobbly railing.

It sticks as she pushes it open, into a sunroom with a pair of peeling Adirondack chairs in the same holly red. Inside, she slides back a glass door, heavy plaid curtain and all, and steps into the apartment.

The furniture is scant, but the whitewashed walls make the space feel light. A black wrought-iron double bed sits against the far wall beneath a gabled window with a view of the mountain.

“It’s nothing fancy.” Marthe flicks on the lights and kneels beside the radiator, turning a knob. “Clangs a bit while it heats up, but it’ll stop eventually.”

I park my suitcase and follow her to the bathroom.

“Hot water takes a minute to get going in the mornings. Just let it run.” She’s already moving on to the kitchen. “Everything you need to cook should be here, but holler if something’s missing.”

Floating shelves lined with mugs, bowls, and plates, a two-burner cooktop next to a square of counter, and an oven roughly the size of a microwave.

“Why would you offer all this to someone you don’t know?”

“I’m a good judge of character. What do you think?”

“It’s perfect.” Going against every New York–bred bone in my body, I launch myself at Marthe, wrapping her in a hug that possibly says more than I mean it to. “Thank you.”

“No trouble, honey.” She’s taller than me and her smile presses into my hair. “I’ve got to get back downstairs, but you know where to find me if you need anything.”

I peel my arms off her about three seconds later than I should have.

She pauses by the door. “Nick will pick you up out front at nine. Dress warm. Get some rest. You’ll be up late.”

The bed is covered in a handmade patchwork quilt that looks well loved. I sink into the mattress and run my fingers across the kaleidoscope of fabrics. Somebody made this. Maybe somebody’s grandma, and now it’s here, in a room people pass through on their way to somewhere else.

I let out a long breath.

It’s quiet.

What have I done?

Every decision from here is mine, including the bad ones.

And if I get it wrong, I have to go home and tell them they were right.

I unbutton my coat and pull my phone from the pocket. Six messages from Willow and one from my mother. I leave hers unread and video call Willow. She answers immediately.

“Ellery, thank God, you’re alive.” She pushes her giant sunglasses up into her chestnut-brown hair, fresh from a blowout, and tries to peer around me to see more of the room. She’s in the garden courtyard of a cafe. “Where are you? Schitt’s Creek?”

“Alaska. Well, a town called Ravenslight Creek, an hour outside of Fairbanks.” I bring my phone to the window and show her the picturesque mountain.

“You’re in freaking Alaska?” Her eyes go wide. “Why?”

“I needed a break from them, Will. Distance. And I figured three thousand miles should be enough.”

“Holy shit, E.” She sets down her coffee cup so hard I hear it. “That’s either the bravest or dumbest thing you’ve ever done. I’m proud of you, girl.”