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He made a sound—something almost inhuman—and took another step toward me. His eyes glistened with a hardness that made me flinch.

“Who the hell are you to preach to me about what’s wrong or what’s not fair? I’ll tell you what’s not fair. It’s not fair that my son is lying in a hospital bed where he’s been for over three months. It’s not fair that now he’s battling an infection that could kill him.” He scrubbed at his eyes. “They think he’s leaving us tonight, did you know that? The doctor told us this morning that they don’t expect him to make it. Christ, Trevor isn’t even seventeen. What in hell is fair about that?”

“Nothing,” I whispered. “Nothing about this is fair, don’t you see? What if Trevor had been driving that night and it was Nathan in a coma? Would you think that your son deserved all this hatred? All this blame?”

“Trevor wasn’t driving the damn car!” he roared.

“But he could have been.” How could I make him see? “He could have been! We’re kids. We make mistakes. We screw up and sometimes we screw up so badly that people get hurt. Haven’t you ever done something so wrong or so bad that you wished you could take it back?”

I have.

My voice broke, and he looked away as I struggled to keep it together. “Look, we don’t know each other and I’ve never met Trevor. But from what Nate told me, I think that, no,” I shook my head, “no, I know that Trevor would hate what you’re doing to his best friend. I know that Trevor would be big enough to forgive Nathan.”

Tears shimmered in his eyes, and my heart turned over at the raw pain I saw there. “Forgive. That’s a joke,” he said hoarsely. “It’s so damn hard.”

I nodded. “I know. It’s hard not to blame someone. It’s hard to just accept when something awful happens because it hurts so much, but I…” I paused and choked back my own tears. “I don’t think Trevor would want his best friend to be broken for the rest of his life. I think that Trevor would want his family to be compassionate. I think he would want them to forgive.”

Trevor’s father didn’t say anything else. He looked away, stared at the ground for a few seconds, and then turned around.

He disappeared into the shadows, leaving only the sound of his footfalls to echo into the silence. To echo into my head.

And it seemed as if I stood there for forever, until the sound went away and I was able to move.

I turned in the opposite direction and let the shadows fall over me, but their darkness offered no relief. They only offered a window to disappear into—a moment in time—and I wondered if Nathan had found his own window. His own shadow.

And I wondered if it felt as empty as mine.

Chapter Twenty-Six

Monroe

It was close to midnight when I finally parked the Matlock in Gram’s driveway. A light rain had started a few hours ago, and the temperature had gotten warmer instead of cooler. Thunder and lightning cut across the sky, but the rain remained steady, falling in soft waves against the windshield.

“Where are you, Nathan?” I asked the darkness, but of course there was no answer.

It felt like I had driven up and down every freaking street in Twin Oaks and then I’d headed to the drive-in, but there was no bush party tonight. I’d even swung by Baker’s Landing, hoping that maybe he was there, but again it was quiet, with only the swans in the pond to greet me.

I was trying to be strong. Trying not to be mad at Nathan, but it was hard when I was basically going insane. I don’t even know why I bothered coming back to Gram’s—it’s not like I was going to be able to sleep or anything—but I’d called her and told her I’d be home by midnight, and really, where else could I go? I didn’t know where else to look.

I slipped out of the car and trudged toward the porch but paused, one foot on the bottom step, head to the sky as the rain slid over my cheeks. Somewhere in the darkness, I heard an owl. The sound was so lonely and sad. So freaking appropriate.

What was I doing? There was no way I could sleep.

I took a step back and then walked around the house. In the distance, the shadows were thicker, and my eyes moved over the large crypt where the family bones were buried.

Fireflies danced around the edge of the cemetery, appearing between the raindrops, only to disappear in a flash. And there just beyond the maze…the maze.

Oh my God, the maze!

I ran like a crazy person, nearly falling when my feet slipped in the wet grass, but didn’t stop until I zigzagged through the familiar path and stopped in the center. Our center.

It was darker in here, the shadows falling from the six-foot-high hedge even thicker than outside, and with the rain sliding across my skin and into my eyes, at first I thought it was empty.

But then a shadow moved, there in the corner, and I held my breath, afraid that if I exhaled, my world would shatter and the vision would disappear. And I needed it not to disappear. I needed it to be real.

Nathan.

Gram told me once that there are moments that stay with us for the rest of our lives. Some of them are beautiful. Some are painful. And some don’t seem to matter at all until much later.

But some, like this one, this moment about to happen, had the potential to be life-altering.

Nate scrubbed at his eyes, and that long hair of his was a mess of crazy waves that curled around his face and was plastered to his neck. His T-shirt clung to him, wet and transparent, his jeans equally soaked. Rain slid off him the same way it rolled off my skin, and as he stepped closer, I could see the pain in his eyes.

He hunched his shoulders forward and looked down at the ground. “I’m sorry,” he said, his voice rough. “I drove until I couldn’t drive anymore. I ditched my car down the road. I’ve been here for hours, but I didn’t know what to do. What to say. So I just ignored everyone.” He shuddered. “Even you.”

Right now, here in this place that was ours, I didn’t care about any of it. I only cared about him. About stopping his pain and helping him the way he’d helped me. Something fierce burned in my chest, something hot and wonderful and scary.

Something that maybe should wait, but I knew I wasn’t strong enough to push it back. But was I strong enough to deal with the fallout?

“I love you,” I whispered.

His head whipped up and he dragged his hand across his forehead, slicking his hair back out of his eyes.

“What?”

I took the steps that brought us so close I felt the heat radiating off him, and I placed my hands on his chest. I felt his heart beating. Heard the ragged breaths falling from his chest.

And I looked up into eyes that I could lose myself in.

“I know it probably sounds crazy to you. I mean, we just met not that long ago, but I love you, Nathan.”

My hands slipped around his waist and I rested my head in the crook of his neck. I love you.

He shook against me, his body tense, and then his hands slid around my shoulders and he crushed me to him, his nose against my neck.

“I need you,” he whispered. “So much. So damn much.”

He jerked his head up, and then his hands were in my hair, tugging me until I was forced to look into his eyes.

“I love you, Monroe. God, I’ve never felt this way about a girl but…I just…there’s so much shit and I don’t know how to deal with it, and Trevor…he…”

Nathan rested his forehead against mine, and for a few moments, we breathed into each other.

For the first time in forever, I felt settled—which was crazy. And yet, it felt as if all the pieces of my life that had been moving, shifting, trying to find their way back, had finally clicked into place.