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“I can’t believe she’s dead.” I wrung my hands together, cracking my knuckles one by one. We’d failed her, and the guilt choked me. First Old Tim, and now Bethan. I couldn’t help but feel as though this was some sort of twisted punishment for my indiscretions with Cyrus. We’d not kissed, not quite, but the intention was there, and it was clear. By the time I’d got home I’d received a text message from Harper, too, and I’d shut my phone off without so much as looking at it.  I’d parked hurriedly, desperate to get inside, to speak to my Dads and find out what, exactly, had happened to Bethan. But once I’d turned off the engine I’d found myself unable to move, my legs turned to lead and my muscles stuck.  I’d dropped my head against the cold steering wheel, bumping my forehead and narrowly avoiding the angry pink line down the side

Seeing Bethan’s body, grey and bloated, in Torre’s house had been horrifying. Her fangs had protruded from her blue lips, and her glassy eyes had stared up at the ceiling, unseeing. Somehow, knocking on my own front door was worse. “Harper?” I called out, edging through the doorway as though some unknown force was desperately trying to yank me back out of it. My boots sounded too loud against the welcome mat, the thick soles clunking through the worn material and hitting the floor with little to cushion them. We’d messaged back and forth when we’d been making the arrangement to meet, but other than that we hadn’t spoken at all. The last message he’d sent me with any meaning behind it had been his cryptic I need to talk to you, and since then we’d both carefully avoided the subject. I’d found peace in the not-knowing, though I was certain that the words

My heart, too full, slowly emptied, turning barren and freezing over. No matter how sensible and right choosing Harper would be, it was undeniable that hearing about Cyrus being with another woman hurt. As I’d said to him, under the small grove of trees by the diner, this had become a choice. Now, Cyrus was slipping onto the losing side. I didn’t want to appear too disappointed. Not in front of Harp; not in front of anyone. It was, after all, my fault that things had even come this far.  “I know you’re not that sort of girl,” Harper was saying. My brain faded in and out, catching glimpses of his words. I could see them in my mind’s eye, hazy as a late summer’s evening, but they did little to warm my icy heart. “You wouldn’t do something like this unless he tricked you,” he continued. “I know his type – ruth

The sun was dipping low in the sky as I drove back to my Dads’ house. The diner had stayed quiet after the arrival of the Town Trio, and though I could have left early, I’d waited until the end of my shift to leave. I didn’t want to face the world awaiting me outside. Harper was expecting me to return to our house soon, but despite our kiss and his sweet forgiveness, I still felt as though something was lacking between us. Our relationship had been irrevocably changed by Cyrus’s arrival, if not by Cyrus himself. He had brought light to flaws and shortcomings that I had brushed under the carpet for too long, and, confused as I was, going back to Harper now felt wrong. But I didn’t want to go back to my Dads’ house either. There was nowhere I wholly belonged, now; there was nowhere all of my secrets were laid bare. Not one person knew the full truth of my lived experience, and it was exhausting.