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Settling into her grip, we started down the winding gravel path.

Cyrus stayed ahead of us, following the trail markers nailed to tree trunks.

Looking back at us, Blade huffed and smirked. “Smell ya later, Trinket.” Like an off-leash dog, Blade zipped into the woods and disappeared into the browning brush.

As we walked, I tried to take in the beautiful trail. Birds chirped in the canopy as a gentle breeze pressed through the falling leaves.

It had been a long time since I let myself take in just how gorgeous Valemont was in the fall. Usually, I was too busy couch-surfing and taking shifts at Velvet Paradise to go for hikes. Besides, without a car, I wouldn’t have been able to even get up here.

My eyes caught on Nash’s calm face. The wrinkle in her brow told me she was lost in thought. She’d been that way all day, all my Freaks had been.

“So, what inspired this trip?” I nudged her with my shoulder.

Snapping out of her haze, Nash let out a deep breath. “We do it every year. It’s just the best day for it. It’s sunny, but there’s a chill in the wind. The leaves are perfect.” Her gray eyes drifted up to the array of colors overhead, the sun peeking through the shaking leaves.

“Every year? Why?”

Quiet, Nash’s jaw tensed.

I lifted my free hand to her bicep, giving it a reassuring squeeze. “What is it?”

Swallowing, Nash let the words escape her lips. “My parents. They used to take me for a hike every year to see the leaves.”

My heart sank.

Nash chuckled as she looked down at her feet, watching them as we strolled on. “They used to say it’s what made the Hudson Valley so special.”

“That and the fog.” I nodded, not meaning to interrupt.

“Exactly.” Nash’s eyes pierced mine, something in them softening as she looked at me.

Even as we hiked, I could see the pain in her eyes. I’d nearly forgotten that Nash had a completely normal life — parents that loved her, a white picket fence.

One late night drive home ruined all of it.

One car crash, two dead. One left alive.

With no extended family to care for her, she was surrendered to the state by some grand uncle who lived in assisted living. That’s how she ended up at Heirs like the rest of us.

Feeling my chest grow tight, I held Nash’s hand firm. “Do you remember much of them?”

A sweet smile teased the corners of her stern face. “A lot. But not enough.”

Descending into a cavern, towering slabs of rock boxing us in, I nudged her. “Tell me something about them.”

It was colder in the crevice, the stone keeping the chill of the Valemont evenings trapped.

Zipping past us, Blade jumped off of the stone steps inside the crevice.

Nash laughed. “My dad would cook almost every meal. But he let my mom take credit for it. She hates cooking so much but knew that it was expected that she would manage the home. And Dad would just insist that she was the chef in the family.”

Her eyes grew glassy. “He loved her. Adored her⁠—”

Voice trailing off, Nash lifted her chin to the sun that squeezed through the opening at the top of the rock walls.

Rubbing her arm, I leaned my head on her shoulder. “I’m sorry, Nash.”

All she could do was nod, too choked up to force words from her throat.