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His gaze held mine for a second longer than necessary.

“I’ll finish the last workshop pieces when I get back.”

“I’ll meet you there.”

Sienna was already heading toward the exit, but she stopped and looked back at me.

“Bye, Goldie.”

“Have fun tonight.”

A little of her usual expression returned. “I will.”

Duncan followed her outside.

Through the open doors, I watched them cross the grass toward the parking area with several feet between them.

For the first time all day, I wished there were something useful I could fix with a schedule. There wasn’t, so I went back to work.

The final hour at Factory of Screams passed quickly.

I checked every room again, confirmed the performers knew when to report, made sure loose construction materials were removed from the guest route, and drank enough water to make up for the coffee I’d been living on since morning.

By the time I carried my work bag back outside, the festival had begun welcoming its first Friday-evening crowd.

Families moved between booths beneath strings of lights that were becoming brighter as the sky dimmed. Someone carried a tray of apple cider donuts past me, and the sweet fried smell followed me almost all the way to my SUV.

Factory of Screams would open in a few hours.

For the first time since arriving in Maple Lane Falls, I believed we were going to make it.

I should have spent the drive to Duncan’s property thinking about the opening. Instead, I kept thinking about him: the way he had crouched beside Sienna and explained the moving head as if he’d been waiting years for her to ask, the fear that had crept back into his voice the moment her curiosity moved closer to the darker work, and how much I wanted him even when he was complicated. Perhaps I wanted him even more because he was.

The trees around his property had gone dark by the time I parked.

The house was quiet.

No television glowed through the front windows. No ten-year-old came running to ask whether I had brought anything interesting. Duncan’s truck sat near the house, so I followed the path around back toward the detached workshop.

Light shone through its windows.

I knocked once before opening the door.

Duncan stood at one of the worktables with both hands braced against the scarred wood. He had changed nothing about himself since leaving the Factory except taking off his jacket, yet the silence around him made his bad mood impossible to miss.

He straightened when he saw me.

Duncan looked tired, irritated, and far too good beneath the workshop lights.

I slipped my coat from my shoulders.

“Sienna get settled?”

“Yeah. Lori texted me. She’s fine.”

The answer was clipped enough that I knew better than to ask whether he was.

I hung my coat beside the door and set my bag on the bench. “What still needs to be finished?”