Total pages in book: 180
Estimated words: 176012 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 880(@200wpm)___ 704(@250wpm)___ 587(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 176012 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 880(@200wpm)___ 704(@250wpm)___ 587(@300wpm)
Holding the handlebar with one hand and the phone with the other, I keep my eyes peeled. “Lucas?”
Is he still there?
“I’m coming,” he says. “If there’s danger, hide.”
“Lucas…”
“Get to the bakery!” he shouts. “Stay on the line with me until you get there.”
I toss my phone into the basket, leaving the call connected, and pedal hard. No light appears on the road—no light at all—except for the sporadic overhead streetlamps. The thick fog cools my skin, droplets of water wetting my face.
In moments, my thighs burn, and my fingers ache from holding the handles so tightly.
I don’t risk a glance behind me.
I can’t go any faster, and if there is something or someone there, the fear will make me fall.
The road curves and drops, my bike coasting down the incline under its own momentum. The wind takes my hair, and my stomach swoops at the speed.
But I coast all the way into Shelburne Falls, pumping the pedals again once the street levels out. I don’t hear anyone. I don’t feel the heat of any headlights, or any change in the breeze, but just in case… I take turns I wouldn’t normally take, trying to lose whoever might be following me.
Swinging onto High Street, I round the corner into the alley and see Lucas barreling in behind me in one of my parents’ cars. No idea where the Boss is.
Dismounting, I grab my backpack and phone and let the bike fall to the ground. Lucas charges toward me, and I hurriedly unlock the back door, still seeing no one.
Once inside, I lock us in and actually back away from the door as if there was a ghost in the fog.
But there was no one. There probably wasn’t anyone near the bridge, on the bridge, or following me here. Just the dark emptiness messing with my imagination.
Lucas, though… He sounded afraid.
Twisting me around, he cups my cheeks, and I can’t catch my breath.
I need to know.
“What happened to you?” I pant. “What are you afraid of?”
Staring into my eyes, he opens his mouth, his body shaking. It’s on the tip of his tongue. I can tell.
I want to know everything. Every moment. Every detail that got him here.
He’s so loved. What brought him here?
“I wish I could shut off the world for an hour,” he whispers, “and stop it from spinning around us.”
I don’t know why he said it, but I do know what he means. Sometimes you need everyone else to stop moving so you can catch up.
I pull his hand away from my face and hold it as I lead him into the shop. Silently, he follows, his fingers laced with mine.
We pause at the mirror, I look back at him, and then I release the latch, pulling open the mirror.
His eyes widen. “What…?”
Stepping through the frame, I still hold his hand. “I’ll tell you something and then you tell me something.”
Gently, I guide him in, watching his gaze shoot everywhere to examine his new surroundings. Closing the mirror, I walk us down the hallway, silently letting go of him as he drifts around, checking out the bedrooms, the small gym, the office, as well as the great room with its kitchen and door to Rivertown Grill. He doesn’t ask a single question as he studies the words on the wall and all the evidence the others collected. He even walks back down the way we came in to see how the mirror is two-way.
I wait for him in the great room until he wanders back in, looking at me like he’s almost suspicious of what I’ve been doing in here.
But I explain, “Hawke and the others knew this was here for years.” I pause a moment. “I just found out a week or so ago. They’ve been researching the link between urban legends in Weston and Shelburne Falls and found this place.”
“Years?” He scowls. “Why didn’t they tell you this was here?”
I quirk a knowing eyebrow.
He frowns. “Those little shits.”
Yeah, I was mad, but Deacon has only spoken to me, so now I have that. “It’s fine.”
“It’s not fine,” he fires back. “They shared this with friends, no doubt. Everyone coming and going from your place of business, strangers right under your nose.”
I know. I don’t reply, though, because I’ll just get angry at them again.
“What are you going to do with this?” he asks.
“I don’t know yet.” I gaze around at the high ceilings and ample floor space. “I want to use it, but I also want them to come back.”
“Hawke?”
I shake my head. “Deacon and Manas.”
I recount to him what we’ve learned about the urban legends so far. About this hideout being Carnival Tower, and my new house being where Winslet vanished from during Rivalry Week so long ago.
And about the Night Rides and the car following us both.