Chapter Forty-Eight

"Hello, Harper?" Laurie pushed the door open, the door that had already been slightly ajar when she'd arrived at Harper's apartment. She entered slowly, tentatively, worry skating down her spine. "Harper?" she called again. "It's Laurie Gallagher."

The little studio apartment was neat and tidy, the bed made, shoes lined up by the door. Despite the concern Laurie felt at finding the door open and no one home, she smiled at the obvious effort Harper had put into making her small apartment a home. It was sweet and lovely, understated, just like the girl Laurie had felt such an immediate connection to.

She entered the tiny kitchen, putting the bag of groceries on the counter along with the homemade banana bread. Who has time to shop or to cook, she'd thought, when they were dealing with something as life-altering as Jak was. And, as an extension, Harper too. She knew Harper loved him and that his struggles would be hers. Jak would be at the station for a couple of hours, so she'd picked up a few things at the grocery store for them and come over to drop them off. When she'd heard about the mine shaft, about the unthinkable things found there…she'd needed to do something. Mostly, she wanted them to know they weren't alone.

She unpacked the bag, her concern increasing when she didn't hear Harper coming in, having just popped over to a neighbor's maybe? Left somewhere close and hadn't bothered to make sure her door was properly locked? "You're being a busybody, Laurie," she admonished herself. Maybe it was just that motherly part of her who had loved and lost that would always jump to the worst conclusions when it came to people she cared about.

There was a pad of paper on the edge of the counter, and she stepped over to it, intending on leaving a note about the food. But there was already a typed note sitting on top. She read the first line, her concern growing as she picked it up, reading quickly.

She folded the note slowly, putting it in her pocket before rushing out of Harper's apartment.

Forty-five minutes later, she was pulling into her own driveway, and twenty seconds after that, she was rushing into the house. "Mark?" she called, tossing her purse and keys on the console table in the foyer.

"Mark?"

"Hey," he said, appearing from the kitchen. "What's wrong?"

"I've been calling you," she said, as he met her in the foyer.

"Sorry. I came from the hospital. Halston Fairbanks had a heart attack. Damn, I must not have turned my phone back on."

Laurie stopped, her eyes widening. "Halston Fairbanks had a heart attack? Oh my God." She shook her head in disbelief. That could wait for a minute. She brought the note from her pocket and thrust it out to Mark. "This was in Harper's apartment. She left it for Jak. It…doesn't make sense, does it?"

Mark read it quickly. "Killed Driscoll? Amity Falls? They're…running away together?"

"You talked to Jak earlier at length. Does it make any sense?" Her heart beat quickly. Was it only that she didn't want it to make sense? Was it only her own delicate emotions that were trying to insist two people who had suddenly attached themselves to her heart wouldn't possibly just pick up and leave?

Mark shook his head. "No. I took his full statement about Driscoll's death earlier." His brow wrinkled as though he was considering whether Jak had lied in some way. It smoothed out. "No. But Harper's not answering her phone, so I haven't been able to get hold of him. He could feel…I don't know, responsible somehow for his grandfather's heart attack? Apparently he found him and alerted the family. But this?" He held up the note. "No. And, what? Did he flag down a ride to the falls?" He looked to the side, pressing his lips together. "Hell, that man could have run there if he was inclined to do it."

Laurie stared at him for a moment. "I have a bad feeling, Mark."

They both stood there for a moment, so many things flowing between them. The memory of the moment Laurie had mentioned her concern over the bruises Abbi kept getting—bruises that were explainable by the sports she was involved in but that her motherly instincts told her were worth a doctor's appointment. The diagnosis. The fight. The ultimate loss. The unthinkable grief. Their drifting apart…

He'd always listened to her intuition though. He'd never made her feel silly or irrational. "You need to go there. To the falls. They need you," she said.

He looked at her closely for another moment, nodding. "I'll get my coat."

She grabbed his keys for him as he put on his coat and boots. "They're fighters," she said, more to soothe herself, to convince herself they were okay.

Mark opened the door, pausing. He turned back, taking the few steps to her, his hands wrapping around her upper arms, holding on. "Our girl was a fighter, just like you, Laurie. She fought until the very end. She'd want us to fight too. We've stopped fighting . For us. We need to start again. I will not lose you." His voice was full of so much emotion, a lump filled Laurie's chest, so full she couldn't breathe. Joy sparked within her. A rekindling of their life.

Laurie nodded her head, tears slipping down her cheeks. "Come back to me," she choked. "And bring those kids with you."