Chapter 44 Ella

Chapter 44

Ella

"Ahh, you look amazing!"

Brynn's chipper voice is music to my ears as I lie back in the grass, my face tipped to the sky and my phone held out in front of me. "Thank you. It was a fun day."

"I hope you had the best birthday ever, bestie! I wish I could have been there with you." Her bright smile droops, momentarily morphing into a pout before beaming again. "Kai had that art show tonight."

"I know, that's so exciting," I say with a grin, watching as Kai comes into view on the phone screen.

He raises his hand with a wave, then sweeps back his bangs. "Happy birthday, Ella."

"Thanks, Kai. Congrats!"

"Thank you. It was pretty cool."

"Don't listen to him." Brynn shoves at his shoulder with hers. "It was epic , Ella. A black-tie affair, champagne, important people." A whimsical sigh falls out of her. "His painting was revered . Daddio and Pops were bawling. Seriously, their champagne ratio was eighty-five percent tears."

Kai sighs. "She's exaggerating. It only caught people's attention when they mistook it for an accidental paint spill."

The phone shakes through my giggles. "I'm siding with Brynn on this one. I know it was epic."

"I guess it went pretty well," he relents, unable to stifle the proud smile that lights up his face.

"Tell me about your special day," Brynn encourages. Kai waves me off and my best friend takes me with her as she floats around the small apartment they share in southern Florida, after making their relationship official two years ago. Blush-pink walls and girlie knickknacks whiz by while she moves into the kitchen to pour a glass of juice.

"Natine and I started the day watching the sunrise and then we rode horses for a while," I tell her, reminiscing over the feel of the crisp wind nibbling at my cheeks. "We ate lunch in the square, browsed craft vendors, and listened to live music before getting some work in at the stables. Then Natine ordered me to get dressed up, curl my hair, put on makeup, and do absolutely nothing for the rest of the day." I shrug, pleased with my ordinary birthday itinerary. "So I did. It was fabulous."

"Wait, you didn't drink all the cocktails? Puke in someone's lap in true birthday-girl fashion?"

My nose scrunches up. "Hard pass."

"For the best," she murmurs, pausing midsip. "You've got that interview in the morning."

"I told you about that?"

She chugs down the rest of her juice. "Sure. You mentioned it last week."

"Right." I nod, my chest fluttering at the thought of becoming a stable manager. It'll open up so many future possibilities in this field. "It's been great working with Natine and relearning everything about the horses," I continue. "But I think it's finally time to spread my wings."

Brynn leans back against the counter. "I have a good feeling about it," she says. "A really good feeling."

"You do?"

"Yup. I definitely think you'll get the job."

"That would be amazing. And I think…" My words drift and my throat starts to burn. "I think Max would be really proud of me."

Her eyes glaze over with tears as a few tense beats roll by. "He's doing good, Ella. Kai talked to him last week. He asked about you."

"Oh yeah?" The fireball in my throat catches with gasoline. "That's nice to hear."

"He always asks about you."

Hot pressure burns behind my eyes.

I took Max's pleas at face value that day in the middle of a gravelly road, rocks pressing into our kneecaps and goodbyes stabbing at our hearts. I made my friends promise that they would never tell him where I was, never give him my new number. They all agreed. Even Mom.

They understood.

And now, even though I'm doing better and have come such a long way, I don't know if anything has changed for us. I don't know if he wants to hear from me. Maybe he made me promise him those things for both of our sakes. For his own inner peace.

I've considered reaching out to him more times than I can count.

I've almost buckled under the draw of temptation.

But nearly three years have passed, and so much time has gone by. Max seems happy, settled, successful, free of my trail of tragedy that always seemed to follow us around and attach itself to us like a malignant tumor.

They say that out of sight and out of mind is the only way to truly heal and let go.

Maybe Max finally let go.

Maybe he let me go.

Clearing my throat, I bob my head quickly and force back an embarrassing waterfall of tears. "Well, I'm glad you had a good night at the art show. How's school going?"

Brynn fills me in on her college courses and criminal justice journey, the enthusiasm making its way back into her voice. We spend the next fifteen minutes talking, catching up, and reminiscing about the good times as the dark-blue stretch overhead turns almost black and we say our goodbyes.

It's just me now.

Me and the sky.

Me and my childhood wish.

I lie back and wait, hoping the sky will burst to life above me in streaks of glittering green. It's a clear, cloudless night, the perfect canvas for auroras.

When I was ten years old, Jonah told me about the northern lights. I'd been back in Nashville for a few years and our bond had grown ten times stronger. My wishes became his wishes. His dreams became my dreams. Jonah said that when I was older, we'd take a road trip together up to Porcupine Mountains Wilderness State Park and try to watch the light show when the moon was shrouded and the sky was clear.

I held on to that dream, even after he went to prison.

It became my dream.

So as my mother and I made the drive to Juniper Falls in silence after Jonah's sentencing with our fresh start dangling on a bleak horizon, I made a promise to myself that I would find my way to this park on my twenty-first birthday. I'd spend the night lying underneath the stars, waiting for that first emerald spark.

I'm doing it.

Cold air bites at my nose as my hair halos around me in the grass, spilling out from underneath my wool hat. It's in the low thirties and snow is predicted in the incoming week, a change of season I'm eager to dive into. But tonight, the sky is clear. Tonight, the sky is just for me.

My teeth chatter and my toes curl into my fuzzy socks and fleece-lined boots as I tug my orange scarf a little tighter and fold my arms across my puffy coat.

I wait.

I wait for one hour. Two hours. The cup of hot cocoa I brought is mostly gone, the remaining liquid ice-cold. Frost-tipped grass blades poke the back of my neck, making me itchy. It's nearly 11:00 p.m. when I'm ready to call it quits and give up.

I almost do.

Almost.

But then I hear something.

Frowning, I sit up straight, a strange noise penetrating the silence of nature. At first, I think it's an animal, a white-tailed deer or a curious fox. Hopefully not a coyote.

Only…I think it's something worse.

A person.

Footsteps crunch along leaves and sticks, approaching on my left, and goose bumps prickle the back of my neck. Nerves slither down my spine. All I can imagine is a mountain man leaping from the trees with a rusted ax and hacking away at me until my dreams fade to black beneath an aurora-less sky. It's instinct to immediately conjure up danger, ever since McKay's attack. I've come a long way in my healing journey, but I'm a lot more careful these days.

Truthfully, I shouldn't have come out here alone.

The footsteps approach.

I choke.

I jump to my feet, my gaze scanning the darkened surroundings, senses on high alert.

My heart pounds when a shadowy figure comes into view in my peripheral vision, the face shrouded by the night.

Oh God.

I'm shivering, more from fear than the cold. Icicles bloom in my lungs and sleet rains down inside my chest.

Holding my breath, I clench my gloved hands into fists, gather my courage, and whip around.

And I freeze in place.

A gasp falls out.

But before I can say a word…

A can of Dr Pepper comes flying at me through the wall of darkness.

I catch it.